#damn near fearless? check

[itsriotmotherfuckers]

Sit down when I tell you this because some of you are dying on this hill and it’s just wrong.

Harry Potter is, under no circumstances, the Regulus Black of the Lightning Bolt Era.

[nerdofthecentrey]

Hi hi! So the lack of Sang-wook (sweet home) ficts on here is insane! So I was thinking if you could write something x GN reader (if possible) maybe something where like, sang-wook finally breaks after putting up that cold facade he always has and reader just comforts him (maybe reader being the only person in between the survivors that doesn't find him weird or scary? (Maybe a confession) take your time and feel free to ignore if you don't like this! (Just answer to it so I know if you don't want to write it I understand!)

I’ll Be There | Sang-wook x GN reader

Genre: Fluff, A bit of Angst

Summary: Sang-wook’s walls finally collapse and your the only one who understands him.

Warnings: Mentions of Killing, Normal Sweet Home Stuff

Unedited ( Will be editing tomorrow)

————————————

Sang-wook was dangerous. There was no denying his hard cold demeanor and his fearlessness to stand up for/ to anyone in the group. Everyone though he was a criminal but you knew that underneath that had to be someone that cared. Everyday you watched as he groaned and grumbled at everyone. You tried your best to make sure he was always taken care of because he was important more to you than anyone. Maybe it was a petty crush or perhaps it came from a place of understanding.

Everyone treated him as an outsider. Yet you would offer him food. He at first reacted like he didn’t care just walking away every time you tried. Slowly things changed. He would answer by shaking his head no sometimes he would take one piece before walking off as he started to warm up to you.

On a rather gloomy day rain fell hard outside, everyone already seemed to be in a terrible mood. But than a monster broke into the first floor. It tore through walls and damn near killed you all, luckily Hyun-Soo was quick on his feet to light it on fire before it could reach where everyone slept.

“ This is ridiculous we aren’t safe! That thing got down here!” Woo-Hyun shouted out. Making practically everyone jump beside Sang-wook who stood next to you.

“ Ya, I mean what if we were sleeping a-and it snuck down here and killed us all!” Gook-hee added pulling her dog closer to her. They had a point, but the way that they bitched about it didn’t help any.

“ Let’s all just take a breath-“ You started trying to regain some form of peace you’d all just lost.

“ Don’t tell me to breathe!” Woo-Hyun said walking up to you. Sang-Wook stepped forward as if he were protecting you. But Do-Hyun spoke before a fight could break lose,

“ The problem has been fixed we’ll have everyone check over certain spots so we can-“ Woo-Hyun cut him off grabbing his collar practically almost ripping Do-hyun’s white t-shirt in the process.

“ Your trying to kill us first you hold food from us and now this you-“

Sang-wook lightly pushing Woo-hyun back. His face turned to pure shock.

“ You dare put your hands on me! You thug!” He yelled pointing at him. “ Why is he even still here he’s a danger to us all! He killed a person!”

Sang-Wook face fell for second before harding back up. He stepped back as Woo-Hyun continued.

“ He’s a murder a psychopath-“

“ Stop it!” You shouted making everyone go silent.

Sang-wook shoved his hands in his pockets while walking away from the scene.

“ Walk away killer!” Woo-Hyun yelled point at him.

“ Would you stop!” You shouted smacking his hand down Woo-Hyun face turned in shock.

“ Did you ever stop to think that maybe he did it for our own good? Maybe that man was out to kill us or take our only things we have left.”

Woo-Hyun looked at you with a slightly deflated expression. “ Whatever nobody cares what you have to say! You don’t even speak half the time..” He muttered before walking away his wife trailing behind.

Everyone else followed their lead going off on their own. You decide to go after Sang-wook you weren’t sure what you’d find. But you saw the look in his eyes almost like someone had poked his heart.

As you turned the corner you heard the sound of breaking concrete and grunts. You saw Sang-wook standing over concrete blocks slamming them with a sledge hammer. Little piece scattering across the floor.

“ Sang-wook?” You said softly.

“ Go.” He muttered as he dropped the hammer on the ground his back towards you.

You start taking slow steps towards him asking, “ Are you okay ?” He didn’t reply instead he stayed silent you noticed his shoulders starting to shake by the time you reached his side you saw tears streaming down his face. It made your heart hurt to see him like this. You felt bad like you were seeing something you weren’t meant too but you weren’t going anywhere you wanted him to know that.

“ It’s okay.” He practically jumped on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close gripping your shirt as he sobbed into your neck. His grip was tight like you would disappear if he let go. You wrapped your arms around his smoothing his hair as you whispering.

“ You can cry, it’s okay.” That he did. You practically watched as his walls came down you let him crying till the sun was setting by than you both found yourself sitting on the dirt near the window in a comfortable silence.

“ Thank you..” He muttered. You could help but giggle at his embarrassed tone, He gives you shocked look.

“ It’s okay.” You grinned. “I’m not judging you.”

Sang-wook’s eyes widen a bit at your statement like nobody had ever showed this type of care for him. Maybe you were the first in a while.

“ You don’t have to be strong in front of me.” You reassured him. You just wanted him to be okay to know that even if the whole world judged him you wouldn’t.

“ I don’t know what to say..” His eyes trailing down to the dirt.

“ Then don’t say anything, Just promise me you’ll let me be there for you.”

He nodded his head in acceptance of you and an acceptance of letting someone special in. You made him feel like there was more to this world than constantly having to watch your own back now he could watch what was right in-front of him.

———————————————————————

A/N: Hope you enjoy this. I wasn’t sure what kinda of ending I was gonna do. I was thinking about having Sang-wook tell the reader he didn’t kill them for a dumb reason. Or this ending where Sang-wook just tries to leave it in the past and move on with the reader which is this end. Anyways That’s all Much appreciation ❤️💚!!

[loveemii]

I have a headcanons request: The main 3 + Tengen, Rengoku, and Shinobu reacting to their s/o who has an unconventional fighting style against demons such as fighting with beer/wine bottles, kicking of the nuts, etc. (And yet somehow they are one of the top hashira) Remember you don't have to do it if you don't want to, drink some water and get some sleep ❤

yes ofc! thank you for the amazing request!

(you’re so sweet please take care 💓)

i hope you enjoy :) + bonus character!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡︎~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tanjiro:

“Y/n! What do you think you’re doing?! Fighting without a weapon?! And so recklessly!”

y/n’s boyfriend asked her while in battle, she grabbed anything she could that was in sight.

beer/wine bottles, etc. even her fists, fearless she fought. y/n kicked down a door that was near in the village and used it as a weapon against the demon. as she attacked the demon with the door her boyfriend tanjiro made sure she was safe by running behind her.

although she was a hashira he still wanted to be of service to her.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a weapon!”

y/n spoke back to tanjiro as they both took another strike at the demon. her boyfriend holding his sword and trying to find a cutting point while his girlfriend y/n grabbed some bottled from the ground and threw them at the demon as a distraction for when she took a metal bar and cut the demons head clean off.

tanjiro looked at her in amazement, but snapped out of it to make sure she was ok.

“Woah! Are you ok? Not hurt?!”

“Yeah I’m fine. And see, told you I don’t need a weapon.”

y/n said as she walked off, tanjiro following behind her.

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Inosuke:

“How the hell are you gonna fight without a sword?!”

y/n’s boyfriend inosuke asked as he looked at her ready to fight the demon.

“I don’t need a damn sword, and besides this demon is already as good as dead.”

y/n said as he stroke a combat attack on the demon, kicking him in the sack as hard as she could taking a stance next to inosuke again.

“Woah now that’s what I call pretty damn amazing!”

her boyfriend shouted praising y/n. the demon fell to its knees covering his weak spot. inosuke then lifted y/n into the air as she wa ready to attack, the demon reacted quickly and removed himself away, he then began to attack her as she quickly grabbed this guys shoes and threw them at the demons face hard enough to take out an eye.

“Ughh eww! Totally gross!”

inosuke made a comment, y/n grinned and blew a kiss to her boyfriend as she finished the job by kicking the demons head clean off in one strike.

she then came down from her strike and walked over to her boyfriend who was stunned but still grossed out by the fact that demons eye is gone.

“Don’t look so amazed Ino, come on let’s get something to eat.”

y/n said as put her arm around her boyfriend as they walked away from the scene.

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Zenitsu:

“Y/N BE CAREFUL! RUN AND SAVE YOURSELF!!”

zenitsu shouted at his girlfriend who was kicking and slapping and throwing anything she could in sight at the demon.

“ZENITSU STAY WHERE YOU ARE.”

y/n said as her boyfriend obeyed her as he sniffled and shook on fear hiding from the demon as he watched the battle.

she flip kicked the demon neck off just after she slapped his face and threw a few trash items at the demon. y/n watched the demon fade into black dust before checking on her sniffling boyfriend.

“You ok?”

“Y/n! How can you be so brave and not have a weapon?”

zenitsu asked y/n crying and clinging onto her, she just patted his head and gently kissed his cheek comforting him.

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Tengen:

“What the hell do you think your doing? Fighting without a weapon, you must be insane if you think I’m gonna let you do that. It’s not flashy.”

y/n’s soon to be husband scolded her.

“I don’t need a weapon.”

she replied ready to fight that demon ahead of her.

“Yeah how?”

tengen proceeded, y/n ran towards the demon as she held a boom box that was playing music in her hands at the demon.

it landed inside the demons mouth and i guess it turned on party mode because the demon begun to light up as lights shown through its eyes, nose, and wide open mouth.

“So Flashy.”

tengen commented as his soon to be wife climbed onto the back of the demon and begun to punch, kick do whatever she can until it’s weaker.

y/n then saw the point grabbed a fork and began to stab at the neck as the demons head soon began to slide off.

tengen watched this with the face of “Eww what the hell.”

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Rengoku:

“You can do it Y/n!”

y/n’s boyfriend encouraged her as she sprung into action kicking the demon where it hurts, slapping its face and throwing bottles at it.

“Thanks Goku!”

she said as she side kicked his face, i think that really pissed off the demon.

“Y/n look out!”

rengoku shouted as he sliced the demons arm off before it could squash y/n. rengoku nodded at y/n and it was her opening point to cut the demons head off.

she raced at the demon and with a wine bottle in her hand cutting the demons head off with the broken glass it had.

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Shinobu:

“Y/n are you sure you don’t want a sword?”

shinobu asked her girlfriend who was slaready taking a stance at the demon in front of them.

“Yeah and can I take this one. I can take ‘em.”

“Sure, you’ve got this Y/n!”

y/n then charades at the demon and began to knee it’s face, she then grabbed a chair and smashed it on the demons head.

“Oh my.”

shinobu commented as y/n side kicked the demons head off.

“Still think I need a sword?”

~~~~~♡︎~~~~~

Mitsuri:

“Y/n looks so cute when she’s fighting with no weapon.”

mitsuri said in awe watching her girlfriend y/n take down a demon.

she got it in a headlock and started to knee it in the face. y/n then body slammed it to the ground, she began to kick it and throw anything she could in reach.

chairs, tables, bottles, plates, utensils. y/n finally side kicked the demons head off in one swift motion.

she walked over to her girlfriend Mitsuri and clapped her hands together to get the dust off.

“You looked to cute out there!”

“You think?”

mitsuri began to blush and hide her face a little while looking at her s/o. y/n smirking as she kissed mitsuri’s cheek.

~~~~~<3~~~~~

hiii! i really hoped you enjoyed this sory it took so long i’ve been a little busy but i will ALWAYS have time to write :)

lol well anyways, take care, drink water, and get rest 💓

specially made for @thatone-gayweeb :)

(sorry for any typos)

[ardenwritesegos]

Starlight

Warning: Verbal abuse

Another day, another bout of chaos. Dark should know to expect nothing less from the Ipliers. All the more reason for a daily evaluation. If he didn’t, the mansion would likely burst into flames. Hell, it nearly did at one point. Damn Wilford and his ability to summon flame throwers at will. No matter. There were far more important things to dwell on. Or rather, far more important people. 

The being continued through the halls of the manor, entering room after room. The Googles were searching their online systems for useful information. Dr. Iplier was organizing yet another stack of files detailing the egos’ medical accidents. Everything seemed to be in order. At least, for the time being. 

The creature was soon finished with his inspection, moseying down the hall to his office. As they did, however, one of the doors opened. Someone exited from it in a rush. Eric Derekson. The shy Iplier held a stack of paper tightly in his arms, muttering something to himself. In his hurry, Eric practically rammed into Dark. The documents flew out of his hold, scattering in different directions. As Derekson looked up, the being could see the terror in his face.

“I’m-I’m sorry!” Eric stuttered quickly. 

“I was trying to memorize my script for today, and–” 

“Stop,” Dark interrupted, attempting to be as calm as possible.

Typically, the being would have no issue striking fear into the egos to keep them in line. This one, however, wasn’t like the others. 

Derekson did not contain the outward confidence or fearlessness of an Iplier. He was fragile as an egg, flinching at the slightest sound. The ego could barely speak without questioning every word. It was almost a saddening sight. Almost. “No harm has been done,” the being reassured Eric. The mist of their aura picked up Eric’s papers, handing the stack to Derekson. “You should find them in order,” Dark explained as the other checked his documents. The shy Iplier looked on in confusion, not seeming to expect the kindness. Dark couldn’t blame him. Not with the demon’s reputation in the manor. 

“Th-Thank you,” Eric said quietly, a bit calmer. 

“You’re welcome,” the creature responded. “Now, go. Derek is surely waiting for you.”

“Yeah...right,” Derekson ran along to his errand. Dark couldn’t help but notice an extra shakiness from Eric at the mention of his father. Something about that was all too familiar to the being.

My Starlight

They shook it off, returning to his room. It wasn’t their problem to solve.

[Meanwhile]

The creature sat at their desk, sorting another week’s worth of incidents from Dr. Iplier. As usual, it was a mountainous pile. However, Dark didn’t find it to be too much. He could get through papers like this rather quickly, after all. Before Dark could continue, he was interrupted by yelling that boomed from across the hall. The being knew all too well where it was coming from. They made their way across the hall, stopping midway at a door. On it was a poorly-constructed sign, reading Derekson Studio. Screaming continued from behind the door. Dark focused, until they could see the inside.

“I don’t get what’s so hard about this!” Derek boomed at the timid ego. 

“All ya gotta do is say some lines for stuff that practically sells itself,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it were that simple for everyone. 

“What dontcha understand?!”

“I-I-I,” Eric stuttered, shaking harder than a leaf. “M-Maybe I’m just not-just not cut out for this,” he began to fidget with the orange towel in his hand. Derekson always seemed to have that cloth near him. None of the others ever knew why, nor did they care enough to ask. “ If you asked my brothers, they-they’d say the same thing,” Eric added. “Merrick would–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Derek interrupted, instantly silencing his son. “You think I wouldn’t rather have Merrick do this?!” he boomed. “But he ain’t here, so you’re the only option I got!” Eric cowered more with each word. “So just get up there and get it together!” At those words, Dark was sent into one of the soul’s memories. 

A little boy was with his father, practicing for a speech, his first as class president. Like Eric, the child struggled to get the words out. For every mistake, his dad forced him to start over. The father quickly became more aggravated with each stutter or lengthy pause. 

“Get it together, boy!” the parent barked. “How are you going to be a politician if you can’t speak to a crowd?!” the boy had previously voiced his desire to be a leader of some kind. He wanted to help people in any way he could. In his mind, politics seemed like the best way to do that. At the time, however, he felt as if he wasn’t cut out for it. 

“B-but, everyone will be staring at me,” the child stammered, hands restless in their folded position. 

“That’s the point!” the man’s voice could be heard throughout the house. Maybe even the neighborhood. Regardless, the boy knew nobody would say a word. The man of the house had to keep order, after all. “What about that do you not understand?!”

“I understand, but–” the child mumbled, on the verge of tears. 

“Then act like it and say the damned words!” the father swore.

With a shake of their head, Dark was brought back to reality. Noise like that could not be tolerated. It was a distraction that could lead the entire manor off-track. He opened the door, immediately silencing Derek. The man may have been too stubborn for his own good, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew very well that this being was not to be messed with. 

“Hello, Derekson,” Dark greeted the father with his usual cold indifference. 

“Uh…hello there, boss,” one could practically see the sweat dripping off the salesman. 

“What brings you here?” 

“You have caused a bit of noise, Derek,” the creature folded their arms behind their back. 

“S-so sorry, sir,” the father apologized. “I was just,uh, trying to motivate my son, here,” he put an arm on Eric’s shoulder, causing the boy to flinch.

“I highly doubt that shouting is adequate motivation,” they said, matter-of-factly. 

“Well actually, it works quite well for–”

“Could you leave the room for a moment?” Dark asked, interrupting Derek.

“What?” Derek responded, face freezing in confusion. 

“I would like to speak with Eric, alone,” the being ordered calmly, yet somehow also firmly.

“But sir, he doesn’t do good on his own,” Derek protested, clearly trying hard not to burst out in anger. 

“He will not be by himself, Derek,” Dark reassured, voice still emotionless. “Now, run along,” the creature ordered. “A new shipment was warped in for you.” 

“Uh…Yes sir,” the father said after several moments of hesitation. As the door clicked shut, Dark made their way towards the boy. He remained in front of the green screen, shaking like a leaf, sure that he was in trouble. The being stopped in front of him. 

“You are not in trouble, Eric,” the creature reassured, able to hear Derekson’s thoughts. 

“I’m-I’m not?” he asked, as if he wasn’t used to such a statement. Dark feels a tugging in his chest at that.

“Derek was the cause of that...noise, not you,” they sighed, careful with their choice of words. The boy was already overwhelmed. He didn’t need to magnify the situation.

“But…he did that because of me,” Eric looked down in shame, hands repeatedly wringing around his orange cloth. Dark could see tears starting to form in the boy’s eyes. “If I hadn’t m-messed up my lines, he would-wouldn’t have had to–”

“You didn’t make him do anything,” the being blurted out, no control over their words. They wanted to move away, but found their aura keeping them in place. While they couldn’t see the color of it, they could tell which one it was. Dammit! Fully under the blue soul’s control, the being put their arms around Derekson. The blue soul then pushed a calming aura into Eric. All at once, the boy’s tension disappeared. His muscles eased. The mental swarming in his head went silent, allowing him to, for once in his life, think clearly. Eric returned the hug, wrapping the creature in a nearly choking embrace. He looked up at Dark.

“Why…” Derekson paused, sniffling away the remains of his tears. “Why does he hate me?” The blue soul remembered asking that exact question. 

A young boy clings to his mother, crying his little eyes out. Father is not around, so he can do so without getting disciplined. 

“Mother, why does he hate me?!” the child choked out. 

“Because he is a fool, starlight,” the woman, the boy’s mother, replied softly. “Anyone would be well-off knowing you,” she rubbed soothing circles into the boy's back. 

“But…he says I cry too much,” the boy weakly argued.

“Because he has the emotions of a doll,” the mother scoffed. Her warm gaze remained directly on her son. “You, my dear, are a wonder.” 

“Because he has the empathy of a mannequin,” the being responded, answer still out of his control.  

“It’s-it’s not his fault, though,” Eric stumbled out. “I mean, everyone else died-”

“That is no excuse for a man to treat his child like that,” the blue soul interrupted. The blue in his aura grew brighter with every second of rage. “His only remaining child, no less…” the soul took a calming breath, trying again to keep his composure in front of the already overwhelmed boy. Eventually, his light was no longer blinding. Regardless, it remained lit like a halo; a comforting, guiding light. Eric couldn’t help but stare. In that gaze, the soul saw the innocence of his past. The kindness. The plea for someone to listen. 

The weakness. 

The soul’s control was ripped from him in an instant. Dark blinked hard, blue outline once again blending with red and gray. The creature quickly but gently removed their arms from Eric, moving them behind their back.

“I will speak to Derek about his…” Dark paused, searching for a careful word. 

“Behavior. Mistreatment of employees, related or otherwise, will not be tolerated in this manor,” The being walked towards the door, but stopped before turning the knob. 

“And Eric,” Dark turns slightly to look at Derekson. 

“Yeah?” Eric forced the word out of his mouth. This Dark was drastically different from the Dark of moments ago. 

“If you should need advice on public speech, I have prior experience that could be to your benefit,” Dark suggested. 

“But be sure to advise me beforehand.” 

“Really? Uh, thanks,” Eric wrung the fabric in his hand like he was getting water out. This time, however, it wasn’t completely out of nerves. With that, the creature exited, on his way to have a few choice words with Derek. 

[naturepointstheway]

Flufftober Day 6: Alt Prompt 2 - Rainy Day

A drabble series that examines ten tomcats' reactions to a particularly stormy and rainy day.

Skimbleshanks loves the sound of rain drumming on the train’s roof, the rivulets of water drops splaying and fanning over the window panes, and the squeak of wet soles on the wooden floors of the cabins. Whiskey spreads warmth down his throat, melting into his bone marrow, a vest hook is buttoned, and he fluffs his cheek fur, so he might be cosy. He wends his way around passengers’ legs, steals a moment’s nap in someone’s blanket, and watches as lightning flashes outside, followed by a gallop of thunder hot on its heels. 

He is calm, nothing will go wrong.

*

Gus huddles deep in his favourite blankets, Jellylorum’s paws stroking his hair, singing a lullaby really meant for kittens, but he doesn’t mind. His paws shake with terror as lightning flashes outside the window, the wind howling and smacking rain mercilessly against the house. His fur stands on end, and he cannot be sure if it is from the charge of electricity from the storm or simply his fear. Perhaps it is both. He scratches at his coat, hard and fast, praying for the storm to end soon so he can sleep. 

He was no fearless and infamous pirate tonight. 

*

Munkustrap paces, back and forth, back and forth, he mutters under his breath, he doesn’t like storms that trap him inside. He has to get out, he has to check everyone is okay, that the kittens aren’t too scared, but even Tugger tells him it’s stupid to go out in that storm. It howls and laughs at seeing how trapped he is, stuck inside with all these fears and worries and anxieties and--

He needs, needs to know all the kittens are okay. He wants to hug them, assure that the storm will pass. 

And he cannot, and he cannot.

*

Tugger loves his brother dearly, and he knows that if he looked away for a second, Munkustrap would sneak away into that horrific weather. He loves a good storm, one that has been riled up by summer’s heat, but he doesn’t love the thought of Munkustrap risking his life out in all that lightning. He throws puns at Munkustrap, he sings rowdy songs to rile him up, and he manages somehow to rope Mistoffelees into all this nonsense. He is delighted when Mistoffelees plays along, also restless from being cooped up. 

He loves his life right now, storm be damned.

*

Mistoffelees is having the time of his life, purring and gesturing out at the windows whenever lightning flashes, reflecting for a split second in his big eyes. His ears perk tall, counting down the seconds to the inevitable thunderclaps that follow. His purrs rumble, his laughter delights Tugger, he wants to never blink so he doesn’t miss any lightning strikes outside. He too is sorely tempted to rush outside, but he knows Tugger and Munkustrap would stop him, tell him not to be so foolish. 

But oh! To just run outside and greet the storm like an old, beloved friend!

*

Alonzo slinks over a stair in the back of the house, tail swishing back and forth, eyes closed, looking for all the world like he is wholly unperturbed by the storm. He mumbles and twitches, though, if a rumble is a little too close, or lightning a little too bright outside. But he refuses to let the storm see his fear, a front of great bravado greets it instead. He doesn’t sit near the nasty draft under the door either, for his fur must be kept pristine and not windblown. 

Unfazed, unbothered, unperturbed, only if someone didn’t look too close. 

*

Plato is calm as ever, eyes closed in a very light doze, sinking into Victoria’s warm embrace, the way she has wrapped her arms around him from behind. He doesn’t mind the storm, he finds it rather romantic, actually, or was that because he was with Victoria? Nevertheless, there is a symphony to be heard in the rainfall on the roof, the lone call of some brave bird outside, the rain swishing against the windows at the wind’s beck and call, and the purrs of Victoria against his back. 

He doesn’t mind storms, he dreams of them all the time.

*

Coricopat stares the lightning down, an uncanny precision in knowing beforehand where and when they would strike. A paw hangs in mid-air, swiping at every lightning strike flashing outside, and his face doesn’t change expression at all, though inside he is practically dancing with delight. His heart soars at the sound of thunder, goosebumps thrill along his arms when it rolls over the house. He wishes he could harness that lightning somehow, batten it down so he can store it deep in his heart, but he has to content himself with listening and not touching. 

He wants to touch lightning. 

*

Mungojerrie slumps on Rumpleteazer, refusing to unwind his limbs from around her, happy to cling on to the other cat so long as the storm is howling and wailing and carrying on outside. He finds comfort in Rumpleteazer’s purring, the way she licks his paws to comfort him, and babbles on endlessly about their future mischievous pursuits. Perhaps they could even coax Mistoffelees into some of these imagined adventures when they embark on them once the weather calms down and the sun shines and dries up the earth once more. 

He finds comfort here, in Rumpleteazer’s chatter and constant presence. 

*

And somewhere, Old Deuteronomy takes his repose, unbothered by raging wind and rain, content to listen to the weather’s vents. After all, even the earth must sometimes rage and cry and someone has to be there to listen to her. He is a friend, he believes, to the earth as much as to all the felines under his care. He listens, silent, and purrs consolations and comfort. He stretches out a paw toward the window, as though to offer it to the miserable weather outside, so it might hold his paw as it weeps. 

He looks forward to the sun. 

[mnoxsk]

Hello! I would like to make a request please

Zenitsu, Shinobu, and Kyojuro (all platonic) x transmasc reader - who is a strong, fearless, fearsome, feral slayer (think Inosuke but on steroids and a bit more civilized/calm)

“Sure anon! I really like this idea actually (and will put my full effort into this because of how much I like it)!

Genre: Fluff/Platonic (x transmac reader)

Summary: How they first reacted to first seeing you, what they thought of you when they first saw your fighting capabilities, and how they are with you casually

Note: He (the reader) wield two katanas and a claymore on their back (with a sheath ofc)

- You both first met when you were assigned to the same mission.Will give the same treatment with everybody else (with respect and kindness unless you don’t do the same). Otherwise he does his best to get on your good side because he surely finds you interesting and someone strong in disguise! -  He usually will most definitely prioritize your safety over his if he does see you struggle in fighting; or at least that’s what he first thought!

“Damn it where are these demons already?! LET ME FIGHT YOU!” You roared and speed through the forest, chopping down large trees, trying to find them. As Kyojuro calmly yet attentively walks towards you he laughs. “Hahahaha! You’re quite the interesting one! I doubt they’d try to come near us if they knew we were here though-” A sharp gust of wind hits, making both of you facing eachother’s back; having him to slowly withdraw his sword. As the breeze kicks up from around you and Kyojuro, it suddenly stops. You both stand in silence for a moment. “OH COME ON!!! AND I THOUGHT I WAS FINALLY GOING TO FIGHT SOMETHING!” You kick a nearby tree, leaving a large dent on it. “Was that really nothing?” Kyojuro thought to himself. As he was about to relax a bit a large preying mantis-like demon swoops downs to attack him. A large cloud of dust overwhelms his eyes for a moment with his ears hear the sound of hissing; then seeing that you blocked the attack with your katanas. “FINALLY SOMETHING TO KILL!” Chuckling in excitement you forcibly push the demon away using the same katanas to block it, hitting it towards a tree. “GO TO HELL!” You quickly unsheath your claymore and throw it to the demon, causing it to screech in pain, being stuck on the tree for a moment before cutting its head off. More demons rapidly start popping out, tailing you however being slain by Kyojuro. “I’ve got your back Y/N!” As the demons multiply you yell at him in rage. “I DON’T NEED IT ASSHOLE!” Causing you slash and make a number of demons die from throwing your claymore again and slashing the ones you didn’t get with your katanas. 

- Consider you getting Kyojuro’s respect CLAIMED after that mission (and not like you never had his respect, you just gained more from him)! - Will check on you any time both of your are not on a mission and not busy. If you like food he will definitely feed you well (either from street food or his cooking)! Anything you like you definitely will be given from him some point in your life! >:) - He will definitely annoy you when you’re doing something dangerous or risky socially or in public. 

“Are you and Kyojuro dating?”  A demonslayer asks you, causing you to be pissed off, yet trying to keep your composure. “No??? What makes you think that?” “Well you guys spend way too much time together in public. Do you like him?” That immediately causes you to snap, cornering them and punching the wall; making a large hole in it. “NO WAY IN HELL!!!” The demon slayer shivers in fear making them slightly sweat but they whisper, “Yeah no wonder...nobody would like a loud woman like you...” That demonslayer was going to die today. “Loud...WOMAN?!?!” As you were about to choke that guy out Kyojuro was luckily there on time to barely pull you away and save them. “I HOPE YOU DIE YOU MOTHERF*CKER!!” You shout to them, pulling up the middle finger. 

- Kyojuro definitely took you to management anger classes after that (and kept trying to make you feel more like a man after that incident).

- Honestly thought of you being a guy with brawns and no brains (and she’s prob right).  -You both met from being demonslayer patrollers for the city to be safe (though to be honest she should be protecting the city from you). Often times you accidentally wreck street vendors carts from you tripping and trying to hold onto something (which was that) or running into someone and they get knocked out (which victims claim its like being hit by a bull). - Will definitely try to see how resistant you are to poison if you piss her off or cause too much trouble for her (through feeding you it or ‘sparing’ with you). She wishes to just choke you out at times but obviously cant because you’re too strong for her to die by her hands. - Usually she doesn’t get picked on by weird dudes (due to her obviously wielding a katana) but there are definitely times where it’s drunk guys.

As you yawn and stretch walking in the city at night with Shinobu, you ask her, “What are we doing here again?” You sigh, being slightly tired and bored. “They’ll always be demons that pretend to be human in disguise, thus it’s natural that demonslayers need to patrol in big cities like these.” She walks with her hands behind her back. “Ahh...But don’t you think it’s way to crowded to do that- though...?” You turn to her yet don’t see her trying your best not to make the crowd worried that you’re frantically trying to search for Shinobu. As an old  drunk man yanks her into an alleyway; he excitedly smells her before she can push him off, causing him to lose balance and slump to the floor. “You smell so, so, so nice, little lady.” He slowly gets up, slowly approaching her again as he drools. Shinobu does the opposite of what he does and backs away, observing him and noticing he has a nasty blob growing and pulsing in a bright red color in the side of his head; finally reaching the end of wall he tries to lure her back to his touch. “Can you take me home...? I’m a bit drunk so I need help-” “DAMN...PERVERT!” You run towards him and punch him a bit too hard, almost entirely wrecking the wall he was hit upon. Shinobu sweats a bit in worry for the man, thinking he was human before he melts into a sludge as if it was a clone with the blob on his head exploding, melting the ground and radiating the same red color from the head he had.  “Eww... that totally will be engraved in my brain for a good while...” You look in disgust before seeing a demon that has half of his face being handsome while the other side is sloppy and pulled down from the same blob but on his sagging cheek, wearing what seems to be an expensive suit frowning at you both.  “Another ugly ass b*tch ready to get their ass whooped again?” You chuckle at the demon but once you blink Shinobu had poisoned the demon, succumbing to it. “Already??? BUT I WANTED TO FIGHT MOREE!” You groan and sulk in disappointment as Shinobu slightly laughs to your whining.

-Will definitely point out tips to help your skills to get better and if you want her to train you she will! - She will train you by doing surprise attacks where she just run towards or sneak attacks you (but only with her katana, she only uses poison on special occasions :) 

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Your friends from the demon corp. surprise you with your favorite flavored cake. “Aww thank you guys! I’m so happy you did this for me!” Chopping up a large piece of cake onto your plate, you use your fork to pick it up and shove the entire piece into your mouth. “Now that I think of a surprise party...” You think to yourself, “Doesn’t someone else do something like that...?” You slowly chew the cake before being reminded of who. You then accidentally swallow your cake from the realization, triggering you to choke on it while frantically searching around for Shinobu; but before you could even look behind you, she cuts a part of your neck (where its not fatal ofc) with her poison on the sword. “DAMN IT!!! WHY’D IT HAVE TO BE THE SAME SPOT IM CHOKING OHn- cOuUGH- CoOugH- ” You cough on the ground in pain and agony of the poison and cake being lumped together in your throat as Shinobu smiles. (Surprisingly you don’t die and cough out the cake but pissed it was wasted)

-Other than the near to death experiences she puts you in, she vouches for you alot if you cause problems!  -Will give you rewards if you dodge or block her surprise attacks (and you’re usually rewarded handsomely) Wanted that box of instant ramen from the store? She’ll buy a years worth of it. Someone doesn’t treat you well? Expect them to be apologizing the next day! -She may be an extra tough and killer mom on you but believe me when you’re important to her! 

-Definitely thinks of you of as a muscle head from the amount of strength you have (and that you’re sent to kill him with your strength too). -Bro cannot keep eye contact with you and will constantly look away and towards you when doing so because he’s that terrified. -You both first met when he was on a mission by himself and was scared shitless when you suddenly appeared (would surely piss himself too if you didn’t calm him down and say you were a part of the demon corp.) - Zenitsu is quite literally picked on by everyone so once you vouched and protected him he will use and depend on you like you’re his only weapon.  “Do we seriously have to be with this scaredy cat?” The demonslayer laughs and pushes Zenitsu with his shoulder as they walk. “Stop that...” He complains as he rubs that same shoulder he was nudged with. “Then stop acting like a baby! The entire time getting here you kept complaining and whining! Maybe you should let the adults do this. Right Y/-” As you hit a tree nearby, you cause an apple to fall and hit the demonslayers head. “Quiet already. If anything you keep babbling. Damn loser.” “Haha right...sorry-” As Zenitsu notices your act for him as he stares at you with thankful eyes before seeing the same demon slayer being thrown into a tree branch and you blocking it’s attack. “GET OUT OF THE WAY, DUMBASS!” You hollar at him before glancing behind you and seeing he fainted on a tree. In attempt you tried  to push back the bear-like demon with your swords but as you were busy looking back, causing your katanas were thrown back. “DAMN IT! DAMN YOU FOR MAKING THINGS HARDER FOR ME!!” You screamed at him while dodging its attacks before deciding to punch the demon, moving back a bit farther from where Zenitsu was, now able for you to use your claymore. “DIE!!!” You exclaimed as you cut off its head with the claymore. As you sweat from the slightly extra effort you had to put you notice the same demonslayer shriek, being wrapped up in a cocoon from a group of demons. “COME ON!” Screaming in annoyance and bait, you jumped on the tree right earlier that Zenitsu slain them in surprising speed. “And I thought I was gonna kill more demons... ughhhh...” You sigh and slouch in disappointment.

- Despite you yelling almost all the time you’ve spent with him, he’s used to it now at this point (and is now annoyed and deaf from it) though there’s a few times he does get scares but just exaggerates it purposely to make you feel SLIGHTY bad. - WILL SERIOUSLY TRY TO BRING YOU TO EVERY MISSION HE HAS (He tries to bargain and make deals with you so he won’t need to do anything and spend time with Nezuko) saying its for a ‘good cause’.  - Says he’ll invite you to his future wedding and make you his wingman (he’s half assing that promise to you definitely)

“PLEASEEE COME WITH ME TO MY NEXT MISSION Y/NNN!!” Zenistu tries and whines to convince you as he’s sitting on one of your legs with your attempt to shake him off. “GET OFF ME YOU DAMN PEST! AND I THOUGHT THERE WAS NOTHING MORE ANNOYING THAN A ROACH!” Finally free’ing yourself from his grip he hits the wall, knocking him out cold (with a bit of blood on the wall) for a couple minutes before attempting to spar with you asleep to convince you. “I SHOULD’VE NEVER SAVED YOUR ASS FROM THAT FORESTT!!!” You complain as you keep blocking him from his speedy attacks.

-Other than his annoying sessions of him begging and whining over his requests being listened on deaf ears, you both usually get along surprisingly. -He knows what pisses you off so he knows what to try and avoid most of the time. -You usually either piggyback him when both of you feel like it and by the shoulder if he’s in serious trouble and needs to get away using you as his uber.

[allzelemonz]

Alley Rat: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’. Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Near sexual encounter Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, Dutch is a dad that is annoyed with his kids, making out, flirting, kissing in a back alley, mild grinding Summary: Dutch kicks Micah out of a meeting in Saint Denis, now you’re in an alley with time to kill.

Dutch kicked Micah out of the meeting after one too many side comments and disagreements. He and Arthur stay behind to follow the lead on a job while you follow Micah out into the filthy alley of Saint Denis. Chatter and clatter fill your ears, only interrupted by the sound of a wooden crate hitting the wall after Micah kicks it out of frustration.

“Morgan don’t know a damn thing.” He sighs, hands resting on his hips.

“Does he ever?” You ask as you lean against the wall.

Micah watches you, then checks as a carriage passes by on the road. He makes up his mind quickly. No one will pay much attention, you’re too far down the alley. He uses his body to pin you against the wall, pressing his lips to yours with no hesitation. His hands grasp at the fabric of your shirt and he fixes his leg in between yours.

“Micah?” You ask when he pulls away.

His hat has tilted back on his head, so he takes it off and sets it on a mostly dry crate. “Just havin’ a little fun while our fearless leaders find us a way ta make money.”

“You’re gonna start something we can’t finish, Mister Bell.”

He hums. “That’s the idea, sweetheart.”

He presses his lips back to yours and you let your hands find their place on his waist, just above his belt. The buts of his guns dig into your stomach a bit as he presses up against you. His lips are chapped and rough as always and the hair on his face scratches in a way that makes your spine tingle. Micah presses your buttons perfectly. He knows how to get under peoples’ skin, be it for their pleasure, his own, or the annoyance of all. Most commonly it’s the third option.

You make a sharp noise against his mouth as he shifts his leg to rub against your already hardening dick. At the feeling, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you, he tugs at your shirt until he can get at your bare stomach. He presses his hands flat against your warm skin and you shutter from their cold contrast. He runs them up to your chest, then back down until his fingers threaten to dip under your gun belt. You lean into his touch and he responds with a small bite to your bottom lip.

“I can’t seem to take you boys anywhere.” Dutch says.

Micah sighs as he pulls away, letting you fix your shirt as he grabs his hat.

“Everywhere we go I end up findin’ you two glued together.” Dutch sighs. “Even in public, have some respect, boys.”

“Just a little fun, boss.” Micah says, rocking on his feet. “Ain’t like anybody's watchin’.”

You catch Arthur’s eyes, but he looks straight back at the ground.

Dutch sighs. “I would like, for just one outing, to not walk in on you boys.”

Arthur nods along.

“I love you boys, and I am happy that you are happy. But, for the love a’ God, just one outing.”

Micah chuckles. “I will try my best, boss.”

Dutch sighs again and begins to walk down the alley.

“No ya won’t.” Arthur mutters.

“You are damn right, Morgan.” Micah laughs, following Dutch.

“You know, if it didn’t bother you guys so much, he wouldn’t do it.” You smile as Arthur’s face turns a light shade of pink.

“I know.” He says. “But it’s Micah. How do ya stand ‘em?”

“That, Mister Morgan, is a mystery you get an answer to every time you find us like that.”

Arthur groans. “I-I don’t need ta hear about it.”

You laugh, starting to walk after Dutch and Micah. “Sorry, Arthur.”

“No ya ain’t.”

[mumms-the-word]

A Macabre Masquerade - Ch. 9

Ch. 9 - Leaderless

Characters: Tavs (multiple), Gale, Astarion, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Halsin, Minthara + other OCs Plot: One year after defeating the Netherbrain and saving the city, Dani and Gale receive a mysterious invitation to a masquerade ball. The invitation specifically invites them to participate as the Heroes of Baldur's Gate. However, when they get there, they soon realize they aren't the only Heroes of Baldur's Gate that got invited. A/N: Surprise! Gale POV this time!! Dani has ended up...well possibly in another world (we think) so that leaves the gang without their fearless leader. Let's see how they fare.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | BG3 Masterlist | AO3

Dani was gone.

She wasn’t just busy somewhere in another room. She wasn’t just missing. She was gone. Absent from this place, from this mortal plane even. Not dead—gods, he hoped not dead—but still gone.

Gale could feel it in his very being. The threads of the Weave were woven strangely here, as if altered and warped by a strange magic he didn’t recognize. He’d tried to attune himself to it from the moment he entered the manor, to have ready command of it, but he always felt one wrong move away from the magic slipping out of his grasp.

He felt it the instant something happened in the ballroom, shortly after Dani had ventured inside. A twisting of the Weave, a pulse of energy along the threads. The casting of a spell.

Then…nothing. Worse than nothing. A chill as though some part of him had been ripped from his grasp. An emptiness that he couldn’t explain.

Dani was gone. He knew it before he could even make sense of it.

It was more than a gut feeling, too terrifying to ignore. He’d alerted the others as soon as he felt it and was nearly to the top of the stairs when Astarion pulled him back, demanding answers.

“Something’s happened,” was all Gale could say. “Something’s happened to Dani.”

After that, contained chaos. Astarion had gone invisible and ventured inside the ballroom to look around, but reported back that he couldn’t see her. Not even a body. The rest of them had split up shortly thereafter, checking all the rooms on the ground floor, as well as the street outside, in hidden closets and alcoves, a few rooms on the second floor, and the back garden. But Dani was nowhere to be seen.

His wife was gone. And without her body, without knowing what exactly had happened to her, even the Scroll of True Resurrection he kept once more near his heart was of no use.

The thought threatened to unravel him, but he had to keep a calm head. If he just retreated to a place of calm and thought carefully, rationally, he would be able to find her. Somehow. Somehow.

He paced the foyer, racking his brains for another step to take, another plan to try. Karlach and Wyll watched him with tense and worried expressions but said nothing. Karlach had her weight on one leg, the other bouncing restlessly. It was clear that she was eager for some action, but didn’t know what kind would help.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel reappeared a moment later, joining them in the foyer. Gale whirled to face them, hoping for good news.

“Any signs of her?” he asked, right as Shadowheart asked, “Did you find anything?” They both stopped short.

“Damn,” she said softly, frowning. “How does someone like Dani just up and vanish like that?”

“Where’s Astarion?” Karlach asked. “Maybe he’s found something.”

Gale flicked his gaze up the stairs, toward the ballroom. “Still upstairs, I think. He promised to watch the ballroom for any signs.”

"And you just left him up there?" Shadowheart asked, setting a hand on her hip. "Alone?"

"Astarion can take care of himself."

Shadowheart's little snort suggested she thought otherwise. "It's not him I'm worried about, but fine. What now?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to think."

"Not to push, but can you think a little faster?" Wyll asked. "Dani could be anywhere by now."

“I know that, I—” Gale blew out a frustrated breath, trying to keep his temper in check. Now wasn't the time to let his anger get the better of him. "Dormire likely knows exactly where she is. He may very well be the last person to have laid eyes on her. We need to investigate him.”

Karlach frowned. “How do you figure that, Gale?”

“I felt—something. A twisting of the Weave. Some kind of spell was cast not long ago, and it’s simply too much of a coincidence for it not to be connected to Dani’s disappearance.”

Lae’zel gave a doubting chk, crossing her arms. “And you think Dormire is the cause? There are dozens of people in that room upstairs, and none of us has seen Dormire even the once.”

“I don’t care who it was, frankly,” Gale said, his voice getting sharp. “My wife is missing without a trace and someone has cast a powerful spell. I’m simply putting two and two together.”

“Watch your tone, Gale,” Lae’zel said, her eyes narrowing. "I am trying to help."

“Whoa, hey, let’s all calm down a moment,” Karlach said, raising her hands. “Fighting each other isn’t going to help Dani.”

“What we need to do is go upstairs,” Wyll suggested. “If we go as a group, we’ll be that much harder to stop. We can catch Dormire and see if he’ll talk.”

Shadowheart frowned. “That would put more guests in danger, wouldn't it?”

“Who’s to say they’re not all involved in this treachery?” Lae’zel said. “We should capture as many as possible and question all of them.”

Gale scoffed. “Six of us against dozens of them? A waste of time and effort. We must focus on Dormire.”

“And if he slips out of our grasp? Or he’s not the culprit? What then?”

“Then we think on our feet.”

Shadowheart laughed. “And when has this group ever proven effective at ‘thinking on our feet?’”

“Whenever Dani is in charge,” Karlach said, frowning now.

“Well Dani isn’t here, so we ought to agree on a plan.”

Astarion’s voice called down to them from the upper story landing. “And who made you leader, Shadowheart?” 

Gale whirled, searching for Astarion on the landing. “Did you find anything?”

“Nothing but a few dozen people all dancing in a whirl.” Astarion made his way down the staircase and joined them, adjusting his coat cuffs. “The ballroom is quite the lively place.”

Lae’zel scowled. “All that time up there and you couldn’t come up with one useful thing to offer?” 

“I beg your pardon, but I was merely doing reconnaissance,” Astarion said, putting his fingertips to his chest. “What were you doing, besides discovering nothing?”

“Astarion, enough,” Gale groaned, rubbing his temple behind his mask. 

“No, let the spawn speak,” Lae’zel challenged. She turned to Astarion, arms folded. “After all, if you had gone with Dani she wouldn’t have disappeared so easily.”

“As if she would have let me,” Astarion countered, genuine anger flashing on his masked face. “You try getting in the way of Dani and her plans.”

“Lae’zel is right, you could have at least made yourself invisible and followed after her,” Shadowheart said.

“Yes, because this stupid thing—” Astarion pointed at his right eye, which held Volo's replacement eye, now charmed to match his other eye's crimson hue, “—wouldn't have revealed her in an instant."

"Perhaps it would have seen something useful," Lae'zel muttered.

“Hang on, this isn’t Astarion’s fault,” Karlach said. “It’s not like we knew—”

Wyll held up his hands. “None of that is important right now. What we need to do is—”

“I’m not Dani's keeper,” Astarion snapped, speaking over both of them. “Gale is her husband, why is no one accusing Gale of negligence?”

Shadowheart threw up her hands. “You’re her best friend!”

“I was concentrating on Dani’s invisibility spell,” Gale snapped at the same time.

“If some of us had been more vigilant then this would not have happened,” Lae’zel said, arms still crosed.

Karlach looked offended for the first time since they’d started arguing. “You say that like you weren’t just as 'not-viligant' as the rest of us. How were we gonna—”

“Are we blaming the vampire, is that it?” Astarion asked, continuing to talk over everyone. Soon all of their voices began to mix together in a cacophony of sharp tones and angry words.

“It’s no one’s fault, it’s just—”

“—and if you think for one moment that I have any control over—”

“—well someone should have been keeping an eye on—”

“—what’s done is done, now can we please just focus on—”

“No one made you the leader, Wyll!”

“Don’t yell at Wyll like that!”

"Dani was the one who—”

“—frankly all insane if you think—”

“Enough!” Gale shouted, rubbing at both temples now. But his voice was just another in the chaos, jumbling together and making his head pound with pain. He wanted air. He wanted out of this room. He wanted to be back home in his library. He wanted his wife back. He wanted—

“Dani!” he gasped, his eyes landing on the large mirror across the room, hanging over a console table.

He thought the sight of her in the mirror was an illusion at first, but when he blinked she remained there in the glass. She wore the same dark blue dress with golden feathers, her bird mask the very same one she’d chosen just hours ago. She followed after a couple, a blonde-haired woman and a brown-haired man, emerging from the opposite doorway behind them.

“Dani!” he called again, louder, dashing over to the mirror. He pressed his hands to the table and leaned over it, shouting again. “Dani, my love!”

She jolted with a start, looking around wildly before her gaze at last fell on him through the mirror. He saw her shape his name with her lips, her expression one of desperation and elation all at once. She ran to the mirror, leaning over the console table to press her hands to the glass.

“Can you hear me, my love?” he asked, touching his own hand to the mirror. He placed it, palm to palm with hers, but all he felt was cold glass. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Tell me what happened.”

She nodded, forming words with her lips, but her voice was silent. Behind him, the others had ceased arguing, but even in their shocked silence, he couldn’t hear her.

It was jarring. After a year at her side, after several months of marriage to his loud, chaotic, beautifully vibrant bard, not hearing her voice was like facing a void. It was wrong and unnatural. He strained his ears, hoping to hear even a glimpse, but there was nothing. Not even the faintest echo.

“I can’t…I can’t hear you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “The mirror…”

She stopped abruptly, her face falling, and for a moment neither of them spoke. She swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on his face. He could see her thinking, trying to come up with a solution, and finding nothing. They were at the mercy of the mirrors, and the mirrors had decided to let him only see her, not hear her.

He hated it. He’d grown so used to her voice, that being cut off from it threatened to break his heart. He’d never longed to hear her more than he did now. Her lilting voice with the softest rasp, always capable of quick humor and a multitude of tones. The way she could shift her voice in song, her notes coming out clear as crystal one second, and delightfully raspy the next.

Silence didn’t suit her. It never had. It never would.

For a moment, they merely stared at one another, separated by a pane of glass. Then she drew back, looking around at the console table as if searching for something. She blew out a frustrated breath, fluttering her ice-blue bangs from her face, when the man she had been following a moment ago stepped over, placing a hand briefly on her shoulder.

A flash of irritation ignited within Gale at the sight of the man’s hand on his wife, until a second look at the man had him freezing with shock.

That was…him. Himself.

Gale but not Gale. Himself in another outfit, another mask, but undeniably himself. For one uncanny moment, the world seemed to spin as he realized he was looking at himself in a mirror, but not at his reflection. He barely noticed as the other Gale spoke briefly with Dani, gesturing with his hands. She nodded to something he said and stepped back, gesturing to the mirror as she responded.

The other Gale, dressed in green velvet, took up her place in front of the mirror, and again the word seemed to tilt as Gale stepped back from the mirror and console table. Now it felt as though he were looking at a true reflection, but in a circus mirror, warped and distorted. The lion mask obscured most of the other Gale’s face, but the height, the build, the way his clothing was tailored to his body—no matter how much Gale tried to convince his brain that this wasn’t a reflection, his mind kept ringing off alarm bells every time the other Gale moved or shifted in a way that he was not moving or shifting.

He forced himself to focus, as best as he could, as the other Gale made the gestures and formed the words for a silent illusion spell—Gale recognized the motions instantly. Within seconds an illusion materialized in the air in front of the other Gale, forming into words that hovered and glowed between them.

Find Dormire. Get him to bring me back.

When he focused beyond the words again, the other Gale had stepped back, letting Dani return to the mirror. She watched him read the words again before she waved them away, causing the words to dissolve and fade, before she pressed her hand to the glass again.

“Dormire did this to you?” Gale asked. She nodded. “Did you see what spell he cast? Do you know what he said? Do you know any clues as to what he might have done exactly?”

She hesitated and then shook her head, making a helpless gesture. Gale grit his teeth at his rising frustration. It wasn’t directed at her, but at this arbitrary mirror and its ever-changing rules. If they could only speak...

“That’s all right. I’ll figure something out, my love,” he said, putting his palm over hers again. “I’ll bring you back, I swear it. I won’t rest until I do. Just...just wait for me. Please.”

She smiled, then, a little relieved smile, and put both hands on the glass. He matched her, hands level with hands, palms facing palms, and cursed that only a thin pane of glass kept them apart. So close, and yet they were worlds away.

“I love you,” he said. 

I love you, too, she said. He couldn’t hear the words, but he recognized the shape of them on her lips easily enough.

Gods, what he wouldn’t give to reach through the glass and draw her close, to kiss her and hold her and reassure her that all would be well. She wasn’t the type to crumple beneath the weight of fear, but he could see the anxiety in her gaze, in the way she seemed reluctant to part from him. Nervousness was not her forte, nor did it come easily to her, and yet he could see it in her now.

He had to fix this. He would fix this. 

Find Dormire, she’d said. Or gotten the other Gale to say. Get him to bring me back.

The plan was decided, then. Yet he cast about for anything else to say, anything to keep her in his sights a moment longer, for fear that if she disappeared he might not see her again.

“Dani,” he began, “I—”

A bright light flashed over the surface of the glass, briefly blinding him and forcing him to shut his eyes. When he could see again, she was gone.

He was back looking at his natural reflection.

“No!” He searched the glass, looking for some kind of arcane trigger, when a chuckle from above stopped him.

“You are late, my dear guests,” a voice said above them. Gale turned away from the mirror to face the steps in the foyer, following them upward with his eyes until he reached the landing. 

There, centered on the top of the staircase, was a masked figure dressed elegantly in black and red, with a large hat trailing long feathers. Every inch of him was covered by his elaborate attire, even his face and his hair. Not the servant from before, Gale realized. No, there was no mistake about who this could be.

“You’re missing all the dancing,” Lord Dormire said, gesturing behind him toward the ballroom. “Come. Join us.”

“Like hell,” Karlach said, baring her teeth. “What did you do to Dani?”

“You would refuse the host of the event?” Lord Dormire asked, tilting his head. “Your friend must have imparted her rudeness onto you during your adventures together. No matter. We still have a little time left.”

He stepped to the side and another, more familiar figure stepped forward. The masked servant from before, his presence once more bringing a whiff of brimstone and ash. Gale got the distinct sense that the servant was smirking or leering at them as he lifted his hand and snapped.

All at once, Gale felt as though his mind was being zapped by a hundred lightning spells. He and the others cried out in pain, all of them dropping to their knees, clutching their heads. And then in an instant, the pain was gone, replaced by an overwhelming urge to get up and move. Every thought was on the ballroom, on dancing, on joining the party upstairs. The music was enchanting, intoxicating, and he swore he could smell the sharp notes of expensive wines wafting down from the ballroom, calling to him like a siren song. Every muscle fought to move and drag him up to the ballroom, to dance, alone or with a partner or even a group, to laugh and down half a dozen glasses of wine and drown himself in merrymaking.

But even as the compulsion overwhelmed him and he fought against it, he felt warped, twisted, and wrong. Like a puppet on strings, his body moved without his will to stand and approach the stairs, the others falling in jolting steps behind him.

“Very good,” Lord Dormire said. “Now…”

The masked servant disappeared in a whorl of embers as Dormire extended his hand to Gale and the others in an open, welcoming gesture.

“Come,” he said again. “Dance.”

[theblackphoenixwritings]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟽 - ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs: ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ?

-ᴍᴀʀɪᴜs/ᴀᴍᴀᴅᴇᴏ -ᴀᴜ/ᴡᴇsᴛᴇʀɴ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ 𝟸

The trail led further and further into the canyon. As the sun began to set on the horizon Marius noticed, that up ahead someone had stopped in a recess of the rock. He dismounted from his horse and led Wise by the reins, to the small encampment, the traces of a fire and the scraps of a frugal meal were still visible. It was clear that someone had stopped there. Even clearer that the person in question was his Daniel, considering the unmistakable canine footprints, and the shape of the hooves, strong on the ground, a hard hoof, like that of Daniel's mustang. Marius removed his hat, running his hand through his long blond hair, stared, then, at Wise, who snorted in response.

"Damn...I missed it by half an hour at most," Marius mumbled, staring at the sky above him that was changing from light blue to dark blue. Considering that that canyon was the perfect place for an ambush, and that there was not much chance of survival if attacked from above, Marius considered moving on.

It was foolish of him to cling to the idea that he would make it out of the canyon before morning, but he could look for a more protected, and hidden, place. He climbed swiftly and with a single, fluid movement onto Wise, who resumed his march, spurred on by Marius, at a trot. A small cloud of dust followed their path, as the moon grew more fearless in the sky.

"Do you hear me?" shouted, at one point impatiently Marius feeling like an idiot. And he was, for a thousand reasons that was a really bad idea in such a place.

"Damn it," Marius repeated through clenched teeth. No response and the path deserted. He could only go on.

Marius had to thank his long experience as a sheriff, and his instincts, which led him to stop his horse a couple of hours later.

Before what looked like the outlet to a larger opening in the canyon. Something was wrong, and this was clear to him from the straight hairs on his arms, and the cold sweat on his forehead. Wise recoiled, another bad sign; his horse was strong and had followed him through many adventures and battles. This sudden nervousness of his,Marius remembered seeing him only in the face of impending and deadly danger. The thought was quick and the body even more so in executing the dismount from the horse, Marius aqquatted himself, leading Wise, behind a large boulder, with a caress on his muscular neck, he made it clear to his fellow adventurer to wait for him there. He took the winchester, from the leather pouch on the horse's back, checked that it was loaded, and did the same with the Colt Navy in the holster at his side, and following the path of the fallen rocks close to the one behind which he had hidden the horse, proceeded to the opening. It was at once a pleasure and a disappointment to find that his instincts were always in top form. There was a group of men, near some burning fires, strangely there was no smell of food or horses. Just silent, somber men. Marius, he could not shake that feeling of danger. There was something extremely wrong with that scene before him. Another confirmation was not long in coming the moment when by the light of the fire,boys were dragged into the midst of the group of men.

Marius pulled the small binoculars out of his saddlebag. He could see that those boys were not only emancipated but frightened, the long shadows on their white faces, and their eyes glassy with terror, the men around them were also extremely pale, but their eyes had a strange light and Marius could swear, a color that did not exist among humans. One of the men raised his hand to grab one of the boys, Marius' stomach twisted, were those claws? But it was not possible for a man to have such hands. Before Marius could recover from that thought, that hand ripped into the flesh of one of the boys and the five men pounced on him. Marius, he had seen endless unspeakable horrors during his service as sheriff, but never anything like this. He vomited. And when he returned with his eyes on the scene three of the four boys lay, the barred-eyed corpses dull against the living fire that burned in the night. Those were not men. And if they had been, they no longer remembered what it meant to be one.

The last boy stepped back toward the fire, his hair, a color Marius had never seen, was illuminated by the fire. They were red, but not a light red, like the one Marius knew well, for his best friend had them that color. It was a rich, iridescent red that looked almost like the color of the other boys' blood against the barren earth. Marius thought of nothing else at that moment except that no more innocent blood should be shed that night. He slinged the winchester and five shots rang out in the canyon, in that silence they were like a rumble of thunder. The bodies slumped, and Marius ran toward the boy; when he was almost beside him, he clearly saw him shake his head.

"It's okay," Marius whispered as he approached, but he realized late that the terror in the boy's eyes was not for him. At that moment turning around, he managed to avoid the claws, which would have mauled him. Backing away, Marius, stared dumbfounded at the man in front of him from whose forehead, copious amounts of blood was leaking from the perfect bullet hole Marius had just shot him.

Before he could even think, the other figures lying on the ground began to move. He felt something clinging to his duster, it was the dark red-haired boy, instinctively Marius pushed him behind him to protect him, but the boy grabbed his sleeve and at the same moment as the creature attacked again, the boy handed him a flaming wood. The creature's deep, creepy laughter made Marius shudder-how could he fight that thing? How with a flaming wood?

The creature laughed again, Marius could not see the blow, which came straight at him and threw him to the ground, only his stubbornness made him stay anchored to that flaming log. He understood that the creature was playing with him, as the cat does with the mouse, enjoying himself and savoring the moment of an inevitable end, the death of Marius. In an instant Daniel's smile and his violet eyes flashed past him, he could not give himself away, and an even darker fear enveloped him, what had happened to Daniel? Had he met those creatures? Had Marius arrived late?

No, he would have sensed it, he was sure, if Daniel had died, but was he safe? Or was he also in the hands of these creatures?

His thoughts suddenly cleared at the indescribable, heartbreaking sound of screams that sounded human but were not. Rising Marius saw the red-haired boy running toward him pursued by the flaming figure of two of the monsters. Their arms stretchedforward, their bones already compromised by fire, fell to the ground continuing their litany of screams. A moment later, where there were bodies before there was now only ash that was slowly worn away by the night wind. The other creature turned toward them and blew an ancestral growl burst from its chest, and leaned toward them, fiercely, Marius realized that this was an opportunity. There is nothing more foolish than believing oneself invincible or unassailable. Marius did not move, he stood to shelter the red-haired boy, and the creature's momentum, its mad rush, Marius used it to their advantage, at the last moment the flaming stick was used as a shield. The creature's momentum could not be restrained, and the result was that it was enveloped in flames and followed the same fate as the other two creatures. Marius stared in horror and amazement at the creature dissolving into the desert sand.

He picked up the flaming stick, ready to continue the fight, but the other two creatures had disappeared into thin air. Marius let go of the stick and turned to stare at the boy, who looked at him with his big dark eyes. Marius took off his duster and slowly with extreme gentleness wrapped the boy in it.

" Thank you, for teaching me about fire. What is your name?"

The boy stared at him, Marius noticed the blood under his nails the scratches on his face his thinness and the bruises on his body, the boy did not answer but threw himself into his arms. He was exhausted and wounded.Marius took him in his arms, whistled, and Wise came trotting in at once. The boy laid his head on Marius' chest with a sigh.

" Protected, kind, good....." muttered the boy weakly and then fell asleep.

Marius took a blanket from the bag attached to Wise's back and wrapped the boy in it. It was damn cold that desert at night. The boy would not have survived without care, and without rest. Marius stared at the clearing sky; dawn was near.

"Okay, I have to go back and reach the tribe of Teskhamen." He was the only one who could help and heal the boy. It would take another day's march to reach the place where the tribe resided.

" Maybe Daniel stopped by. I just hope he's okay." Marius had no choice; he could not risk the boy's death; he had to get him to safety.

With determination, he turned Wise toward the road they had traveled to get there. The boy safe in his arms, Marius followed the path back to the tribe that resided not far from there, of which Teskhamen was the leader, and the healer.

[marvelmaniac715]

This is part two to that fic I wrote where Chucky possesses his human body. I was initially going to write this about Tiffany, but I decided to target the long-suffering Andy Barclay instead, because why not? Fear not, Tiffany fans, a part three to this au may be coming soon…

————————————————————-

Nica had called him in quite a panic, sobbing her way through a mostly nonsensical explanation about some nightmare she’d had. At least, Andy assumed it was a nightmare, because Nica was talking about Chucky as if he were still alive - and the last time Andy checked, he was definitely dead. Still, he cancelled his plans for the day and decided to stay inside, arming himself with a gun, just in case. 

But Andy was still relatively calm. So calm, in fact, that he decided to order a pizza and put on a movie. When the doorbell ran, for the pizza delivery guy (hopefully), Andy got up and walked to the door without fear for the first time that he could really remember. That fearlessness vanished when he opened the door to be greeted by an older man with piercing blue eyes and curly white hair. If the eyes didn’t give his identity away, the bloodstained pizza boy uniform that was way too small for him made one thing very clear to Andy - this was Chucky. To add insult to injury, his pizza box had been opened, with his pizza half-eaten.

Andy had no words to say, he just stood there, arms hanging limp at his sides, jaw clenched, eyes widened in mild panic. Chucky wasn’t rushing to attack him, but he had that look on his face, the look that promised a great deal of trouble, relatively soon. After what felt like an eternity, Chucky broke the ice with a casual:

“The pizza was kinda shitty, the cheese doesn’t even ooze, so, tell whatever pizza place you ordered it from to fix that.”

The word ‘No’ left Andy’s mouth before he could process the fact that he was speaking at all. In response, Chucky laughed, shrugged and said sardonically:

“Well, damn it, here I was thinking we’d sit down to have a pizza together someday, I guess not.”

Beginning to realise that Chucky didn’t seem in a particularly bloodthirsty mood at present, Andy decided to lean into the lighthearted tone of this conversation and joked:

“If you made me eat pizza with you, I’d be sure to put pineapple, anchovies and live slugs on it.”

Chucky didn’t bat an eyelid, he merely flinched and commented:

“Weird taste in pizza, but alrighty, pal.”

By this point, both men had been standing for quite some time, so Andy decided to reenter his living room and sit down. Entirely uninvited, Chucky followed him in and sat down on a chair opposite him, shoulders tensed. It was then, and only then, that Chucky decided it was necessary to clarify:

“Oh, I’m Chucky, by the way-‘

“Yeah, I know. The eyes and the bloodstained stolen uniform gave you away. You’ll never change, will you?”

Chucky smirked, before asking:

“Do my eyes really give it away? Is it the colour, because I can get contact lenses, or is it just my eyes in general, because I could probably make sunglasses work if that’s the case.”

Andy thought about it for a moment, then leant back in his chair as he began to explain:

“Just your eyes in general. They just have a certain… expressiveness, let’s say. A certain killer gleam that gives you away every time. That’s how I always know when I’m near you, no matter which form you take.”

This actually made Chucky laugh, which made Andy feel uneasy. But as Chucky laughed, a question gnawed at the back of his mind. He felt compelled to ask it, so he did.

“So, did you steal another body, or…?”

Predicting the end of the question, Chucky leant forward and answered:

“Oh yeah, let me explain. This is my original body, a couple of my doll vessels dug me up in Chicago - at my request - and transferred their fragments of my soul into the body you see before you. There wasn’t any flesh left, just bones, so the magic did its job and aged me up to the age of my soul, any other questions or are we good?”

That actually made a lot of sense: this was exactly the sort of thing that Chucky would do, so Andy wasn’t even surprised. But he did, in fact, have one more question. Much more tentatively, he asked:

“Do you have a purpose for being here or are you just gonna kill the pizza guy, eat the food I paid for and then leave? Because if it’s the latter, that’s kind of a dick move, even for you.”

Again, Chucky laughed, and he stood up. 

“I actually do have a reason for being here, I’m not just here to piss you off - although that is a lot of fun.”

For a long, agonising moment, Chucky said nothing. Feeling slightly scared, and having vivid flashbacks of his past encounters with Chucky, Andy stood up and tried to make his way to the front door, or to his gun… only for Chucky to push him to the floor and press his own gun that had been hidden in his pocket against Andy’s temple. Heart racing, Andy desperately struggled to stand up, only for Chucky to push him down again and again, gun pressing further into his temple with each desperate escape attempt. Chucky was laughing again, but it sounded more mocking, and threatening. He pressed the trigger and… nothing. Just a hollow click. 

Chucky placed his gun down on a nearby coffee table with a soft chuckle before flipping Andy onto his back and keeping him down with a foot on the chest. The man was grinning now, making it clear for anybody who doubted that Chucky was alive, exactly who this was. Andy tried to choke out some form of protest or question, but he was drowned out by Chucky cackling in his face, mercilessly taunting him with a sneering:

“Oh, I’ve seen that face before. When did I see that face, I wonder? Oh, of course, a big strong man trying to fight off the scary serial killer, when deep down, he’s only a scared little boy who misses his mommy and big sister. But they’re not here to protect you now, are they champ?”

Andy gathered enough strength to spit in Chucky’s face, but this only earned him more mockery.

“Didn’t mommy ever teach you that it’s rude to spit? Oh yeah, she couldn’t, you were only six when she got taken away for insanity.”

This comment fuelled Andy with enough anger to wriggle out of his position and stand up, shoving Chucky with all of his might. But Chucky the human was stronger than Chucky the doll, so he barely moved. Wordlessly, Chucky forcibly pushed Andy into his chair and loomed over him, arms crossed.

“Let me tell you a story - you like stories, don’t you? When I was a little boy, about eleven or twelve, I had the strangest fascination with hunting. I had a large supply of food at my disposal thanks to the Boy’s Home I was staying at, so it wasn’t for sustenance, I just did it for the joy of seeing life leaving an innocent creature’s eyes, as so many boys fantasise about doing at that age, y’know? Anyway, one day, I checked some of the traps I had left out, and I saw this tiny little brown rabbit with a stuck leg. You remind me of it actually, small, brunette, kinda twitchy…”

Andy cut off this brief tangent with a hissed ‘Get on with it’, so Chucky continued as if he hadn’t heard him:

“Anyway, like I said, this little rabbit was there. It wasn’t a fatal wound, so I decided to nurse it back to health. I stitched the wound, gave it food, all of that, and after about a week, it was ready to be set free. When it was ready to leave, I went to visit it. The silly thing saw me as it’s saviour, it nuzzled its nose against my palm, with it’s eyes gleaming with such love and loyalty. It was enough to make a grown man cry, but I was no man back then, Barclay. I was just a heartless kid.”

Andy wasn’t sure if he wanted to know this ‘charming’ little anecdote ended, but he had a horrifying feeling that he already knew. All he did was gasp slightly, and that brief moment, that barely noticeable flinch, was all that it took for Chucky to realise that the point of his story had gotten across. But still, he continued.

“The rabbit thought that I was going to set it free, but of course, I didn’t. I gathered it in my arms, stroked its soft fluffy ears for a second, then I grabbed them and twisted, as hard as I could. It didn’t even try to kick, that’s how scared it was. I took that rabbit to the Boy’s Home with me, cooked it and ate it. It was the best catch I ever ate after a hunt.”

That was a… stomach churning story. But remarkably, Andy was barely surprised. All he did was stare up at Chucky in confusion, not quite sure why he was even being told this story. Seeing his confusion, Chucky grinned and summarised his story’s ‘moral’:

“That’s the day that I learnt that fear can season the meat of a kill. The long con, in particular, makes the final kill so much more satisfying. Remember when I compared you to that rabbit? Well, the comparison doesn’t end there, friend. You didn’t even notice, but I’ve been playing the long con for years, subtly dropping your guard- hell, I mean, you didn’t even say anything when I walked into your house today! Because I’ve known you since you were a little boy, a tiny part of you associates me with familiarity, no matter how much you insist you hate me. You’ve seen me more than you ever saw your father, or Mike Norris. I’m not your dad, or even your friend, but I certainly fill that paternal role in your life in a way, don’t I bud? Think about how much I’ve taught you about survival, exactly what a father’s meant to do.”

This was what finally made Andy cringe. Chucky’s view of the world had always been warped, but that particular sentiment was just… wow. Gathering some of his stockpiled courage, Andy mockingly asked:

“Well, if you’re my father, am I in your will?”

Chucky shook his head:

“Nah, I’m not gonna die, so I don’t have a will, but you probably wouldn’t be in it if I did have one.”

Andy pouted as he replied:

“Aww, I thought you loved me.”

This comment made both men laugh uproariously at the irony. Then, Andy asked on a much more serious note:

“So you didn’t come to kill me, you just came to… stoke fear and tension? Is that it?”

Chucky nodded. 

“Well yeah, I also kinda wanted to show off. I’m taller than you now.”

Andy nodded.

“I noticed. Good for you, is it weird to not have to crane your neck upwards all the time to look at people?”

Chucky nodded again, then there was another silence. Finally, Chucky began heading to the door.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now. This has been fun, don’t forget to order another pizza and maybe call the police about that pizza guy.”

Not quite comprehending the fact that Chucky was just leaving casually after telling such a horrific story, Andy just barely managed to splutter out a confused:

“Wait, what am I even supposed to tell the cops?”

Chucky looked Andy right in the eye, gave him a shit eating grin and said something that it seemed as if he’d been waiting to say for years:

“Just tell them what you tried to tell the cops when you were six. Tell them that Chucky did it.”

[thegreatestjournalistofalltime]

In this post:

About the Muse (Freddie Lounds, NBC Hannibal)

About the Mun (Hi, I’m Casper!)

I’ll Write...

I Won’t Write...

Character Headcanons (HC’s and Canon-Divergent Ideas) 

RP Rules

This is my main RP blog, and Freddie is my main character. However, I also have a blog for Dr. Frederick Chilton, @b1oodandchocolate​ , on which I would also be thrilled to write with you if you’d like! Both are independent and selective.

I have the link to my RP Queue board on my side navigation, but for mobile users, you can click here to see all the stuff I’m working on.

All dividers used below were made by saradika. Please go check out her work. It’s all lovely.

Freddie Lounds is rude, brilliant, and damn-near fearless. She does whatever she has to do in order to get information for her tabloid site, Tattle Crime. Unfortunately, this often means breaking laws, manipulating people, or engaging in otherwise nefarious behavior. However, she has her moments when she shows that she does have a heart, and that she does care about other people... Sometimes. Depends on who it is, really.

Here’s Freddie’s Wiki Bio for more information if you haven’t seen the show ❤️

Hello, there! My name is Casper. I’m transmasc non-binary (my pronouns are they/them/theirs or he/him/his) and I’m over the age of 30. I’m neurodivergent as fuck, and, despite writing for shady characters, I’m a soft boi  😅 

I’m kind of the stereotypical introvert, so I know I can sometimes come across as standoffish (especially online), but I promise that I’m friendly! I just have a super low threshold for socializing, especially with people I don’t know or don’t know very well yet, which sometimes makes it seem like I don’t want to talk to someone, when the reality is that I just can’t at a given time. Especially since it’s super easy for me to hit “burnout mode.”

Anyway, I’m hoping that I can actually do something of substance with this blog this time around and stick around a while longer lol. Please don’t be afraid to say hi! Just please keep in mind that I may not be able to respond right away.

Lastly, this is my Ao3, collecting dust lol: casperlounds on Ao3

Fluffy stuff

Platonic relationships

Consensual NSFW stuff (please see rules below)

Violent or Dark Themes (please see rules below)

Canon-Compliant OR Canon-Divergent Stuff

RP with Non-Hannibal Characters from Other Shows/Movies

RP with OCs in OR Outside of Hannibal

And more...

NonCon/Sexual Violence

Various Kinks (please see rules below)

Varying Degrees of Gore (please see rules below)

And more...

Freddie actually comes from a fairly affluent family and her parents are proud of her (they just kind of overlook a lot of the less savory things she does).

She is an only child.

Her middle name is “Emily.” Her mother initially wanted it to be “Amelie.”

Bisexual in the sense that she doesn’t care about/isn’t repulsed by sleeping with men, as it was implied with Zeller. This is especially true if it means getting what she wants for an article (she’s canonically Machiavellian), but I definitely see her as homoromantic. She may have a fling with a man, but it will never be serious and she won’t grow attached, even if it’s just for fun and not as some means to an end. Though the likelihood of that in itself is low.

Has a crush on Dr. Bloom. 

Please read these rules before requesting to roleplay.

This blog is 18+ ONLY. Therefore, I will also only write with people over the age of 18. Minors, please DNI.

If you want to RP with me, please PM me and let me know what you had in mind. Please do not post a starter without discussing things with me first. That way, we can also decide who will start things off!

I prefer public RPs, reblogging each other with our responses. HOWEVER, if you’d like to RP privately, please tell me so and I will try to work something out with you. Preferably on Discord.

That said, I cannot do RP in PMs. I tried that once and it was a bad struggle for me. Which is why I suggest Discord.

I will only accept random starters from certain people. If I get comfortable enough, I’ll let you know if I’m OK with your doing that. However, please don’t take this personally! As I stated in the About the Mun section, I’m both neurodivergent and have trouble with social spaces.

That said, if I post an Open Starter that reads “(anyone may reply),” I mean anyone, even non-mutuals. Any Open Starters meant solely for mutuals will be clearly marked to avoid confusion. However, for those who do reply (thank you!), please be aware that I may not get to yours or it may or may not turn into a longer RP.

Please understand that I often struggle with burnout and extreme fatigue, as well as other symptoms stemming from ADHD. Therefore, there will be times when I write more and times that I write less. I also might find it easier to work on one thing over another at a given time, but that doesn't mean I don’t value the partner or the RP I’m not working on. If this doesn't work for you, that’s totally understandable, just please don’t start writing with me if this is something you think will be a problem. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

On that same note, please be aware that I will not be writing page-long+ replies. Some of my starters/replies may be longer than others, but I generally write two or three paragraphs. If you’re looking for someone who writes lengthy replies, I’m not your guy. Realistically, I also know I wouldn’t be able to read those lengthy posts, so it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.

Despite not writing ultra lengthy replies, I do put a lot of thought and effort into them. I’ve been made aware that some people have started to use AI generated responses in RP (what a time to be alive). This is a hard no from me. I may take a while to respond, but when I do, I do so to the best of my abilities. I’d hope my partners do the same.

I will only accept “pre-established relationship” OCs (i.e. your character is the romantic interest/mortal enemy/childhood best friend/etc. of my muse) on a case-by-case basis. As with the “romantic chemistry” rule below, if I’m not feeling the connection, or if I don’t think I’ll be a good fit as a partner for it, I will respectfully decline.

If you want to drop or rework/restart a thread or idea that we’re working on together, please let me know!

Please don’t message me asking when I’m going to get to your response. All that does is make me anxious. I’ll likely let you know, myself, when I can get around to it if you’ve been waiting.

Likewise, please don’t spam message me, especially if I haven’t responded. That makes me incredibly anxious and less likely to respond at all.

However, please do message me if you have questions or want to discuss an idea in the RP we’re working on!!!

I will not have exclusive partners for a given character (i.e. a single Hannibal Lecter that I write with and no other Hannibals). There may be people I write with most frequently for a given character, but I won’t exclude other people.

If you aren’t sure if I’ll be comfortable with something, please ask. This includes NSFW themes, dark themes, violence, and gore. I will do the same for you!

As a general rule, I’ll likely not be comfortable with most kinks. You can ask in PMs while we plan our roleplay, but please know that the answer will likely be “no.”

In the event that you want to RP NSFW stuff, please let me know at the start that this is something you'd like to explore. However, also keep in mind that if I’m not feeling the connection, if it it doesn't make sense for our muses after we get into the RP, I won’t force it. Likewise, I’m also aware that sometimes things will gradually, naturally lead to romantic or sexual places, so it’s fine if that happens organically as we go.

Also, please keep in mind, though I don't mind discussing more explicit NSFW stuff regarding characters, I may not want to RP super explicit stuff. Again, case by case and I'd prefer to discuss it first so that we're both comfortable.

This post and all its sections are subject to change or revision. If that happens, I’ll post that I’ve updated it.

[skaz-wolfman]

Halfling Appreciation Post

Literally my first time making an original post, let’s flapping go.

As those of us who love roleplaying games and have a healthy amount of self-respect distance ourselves from Dungbats & Dickbags, (and just so we’re clear, I’ve been a fan of the world’s most popular RPG since I was a kid, so my anger here is not a mild, petty thing, it’s an absolute Balrog of betrayal) I just want to take this moment to make sure we’re appreciating one of my favorite fantasy races.

Muhfuggin’ halflings, yo.

Why are halflings great, besides the fact that Samwise Gamgee is the single greatest supporting man in the history of fantasy adventure? Well I’ll happily tell you. Over the years, I’ve heard woefully misinformed people say “Oh, they’re just skinnier dwarves” or “they’re just gnomes but boring” or “eww, halflings are pedo-bait”. That last one has made me scream obscenities, not gonna lie. But sadly, reductionism is all too easy. So please, lend me a moment of your time to outline what halflings actually are.

1. Halflings Are Friends. This really doesn’t require me to explain it, to be honest. The world’s most comprehensive essay on why halflings are the best friends anyone can have already exists, it’s called The Lord of the Rings. But then, that’s still being reductionist, isn’t it? Everyone in the Fellowship was super friend-shaped, not just the Hobbit Squad. That was kind of a big theme in that whole saga. To flesh this point out a bit, the same way human beings possess an absurd capacity to pack bond with ANYTHING, halflings tend to possess a charitable disposition, generosity of spirit, and natural inclination to help that makes them damn-near optimal buddies. Sure, they might not adopt you on sight like a human, or swear a lifelong oath of friendship like a dwarf, or check in on their favorite human’s descendants every so often like an elf, but once you earn a halfling’s friendship (which still isn’t terribly hard) you have a ride-or-die homie for life. Sure, we all sing Sam’s praises endlessly, but let’s be real, if Sam had been the Ring-bearer Frodo would have been his rock too and you can’t convince me otherwise.

2. Halflings Are Brave. Contrary to what some may think, halflings are not fearless, but they do embody the saying that “courage is not the absence of fear, it is the will to act in spite of fear.” Halflings know fear, of course they do, they average around three feet in height. But when a halfling comes into danger, it’s usually either because they’re in the middle of doing something important, or because danger showed up to threaten their home. Either way, a halfling’s gotta do what a halfling’s gotta do. That doesn’t mean every halfling is a Leeroy Jenkins; most of them aren’t that hot-blooded. But every halfling knows in their bones that fear just isn’t important enough to stop them from helping. A halfling is more afraid of their community or their friends getting hurt than they are of getting hurt themselves.

3. Halflings Have Wonder. Halflings are often compared to children, even called “child-folk” sometimes. Hence why some people seem to think of them as “pedo-bait”. Yuck. They’re just short, people, they aren’t lolis or shotas, they grow sideburns for Pete’s sake. The other big reason halflings are considered childlike, besides their height, is that the have that indelible sense of wonder that us humans often associate with children. Halflings don’t grow tired and jaded, they know the endless potential that comes with each new day, with each new person they meet, and each new place they go. You know that meme where Marge Simpson holds up the potato and says “I just think it’s neat”? That’s a halfling about literally anything. Not everything, they have personal interests of course, but a halfling can find the “neat!” in literally anything. No matter how many people they meet, they’ll still be excited to get to know someone new. No matter how far they travel, a new vista can still take their breath away. No matter how much pain they have to endure, they’ll still be grateful for a new day to find new wonders in their life.

4. Halfling Are Modest. Why are halflings so helpful, brave, and always looking for the new no matter how much they experience, good or bad? Because they don’t think too highly of themselves. That’s not to say that they have low self-esteem or that they lack pride. A halfling knows, without self-deprecating, that they’re only a small part of the world, but they also know, without ego, that the world would be less without them, and that the same is true of most anything in the world. Sure, there are bad things that probably no one would miss, but most things in the world have some value to someone. Most people might be terrified of spiders (yours truly included) but there are also people who think they’re the coolest, and regardless of how you feel about them personally they have a valuable place in the food chain. Halflings never lack for wonder because they aren’t afraid of how vast the world is. Halflings are great friends because nothing they want for themselves is more important than supporting the people they care about. Halflings are courageous because they know there are too many precious people and things in the world to only be worried about saving their own skin, otherwise they wouldn’t have left the comfort of home! Halflings aren’t easily overwhelmed, but they generally know when something isn’t to be taken too lightly, either.

5. Halflings Are Lucky. I know that “lucky” isn’t really a personal quality, but it’s nevertheless an essential part of what makes halflings so Neat™. This is, in fact, the converging point of the halfling traditions of Friendship, Courage, Wonder, and Modesty. As much as I feel burned by the Wizards, they did introduce me to a concept that I really, really like, and I don’t believe in throwing away good ideas just because I’m mad at the people I got them from. That the reason halflings are so lucky is because they’re such wholesome and kind folk, beset by danger on all sides, that in a world where Good is a fundamental force, the universe itself looks out for them every once in a while. And if the very universe appreciates halflings that much, I think we should too. Plus, you kids wanna talk about cryptid characters? What’s more cryptid than a happy-go-looking chubby homebody with a name like Bernie Teakettle who goes out to check their mail, gets swept up into High Adventure, and Mr. Magoos their way through stopping an apocalypse? King shit, that is.

So in summary, much like the potatoes they cherish, halflings are just really neat.

Fuck the kender tho, tbh. All my homies hate the kender.

[endlessrise]

Lucy did indeed learn her lesson from the spicy powder punishment, coughing up mini fireballs the whole time till she was given the milk. She seem to avoid going near his office even if he was in it. Though with every room to the house shut tight with the exception of her room and the bathroom containing the magic self cleaning litter box that she uses there was nowhere but hallways to explore. It had been a good while since the office incident at least.

Nnnh, this boring... Nothings open...

The Evoling says to herself in the language of Evoline, which was currently the only language she could speak. She had just tryed pushing through another door, which didn't give in the slightest. With a huff she would crawl off down the halls again, in search of enrichment.

That's when she would see it, well... feel it. A breeze if air, something was open. So the search for the opening that was letting in the breeze, it would take awhile but she would find the window letting it in. But... the window was up quite high.

It's all the way up there... the outside smells so much diffrent then before. But how do I get up there...?

She thinks before looking around for anything she can use to make an incline to get to the opening. There wasn't much for her to pile up in order to do such, but it got her close enough so that she would only have to do a little jump to catch the ledge and lift her little body up onto it. After that, she ever so gracefully hung onto the opposite ledge and dropped down onto the ground.

A coo of admiration of the outside world as she looks around, it was bright and hot but she would manage. Naturally would start poking around, sniffing things and rubbing up against some things to mark it with her scent. Every so often she would bolt towards something that moves, never straying to far from the house or going even remotely close to where the wildlife could reach her.

She would continue her little adventure, getting curious about the strange plants. She wanted to bite them but there was a nagging feeling that she shouldn't, something telling her that it would be bad to take a bite out of plant leaf that was easily in her reach. That was until something moved again and she would scamper over to that to check it would.

The punishment for not giving the document Naeb asked for was an entire month of annoying mission. Mission that was not even supposed to be done by a Captain and the battalion they were responsible for. He was expectedly furious when he came back home, and it made the natural murderous intent he continuously let a lot more intense. It happened to reach a larger area which would only leave the most dangerous and fearless creatures around.

Anything he did to calm was pointless and being unable to calm down only increased his anger. His irises had been glowing gold the entire time, and he was having a difficult time not tearing everything in his house. He hated being punished for this, but if he had closed the damn fucking door of his office. She would have never made her way inside. As usual, she was not even around. He only ever saw the baby when it was time to eat or sleep.

If a baby needed someone to watch over them, this was not the case of Lucy. She was dependent, too dependent for his sake. She was not adorable, and the only thing she did was causing trouble. Yes, he should have been watching over her since she was a baby. Perhaps, he should have made a duplicate watch over her while he was doing other stuff.

He sighed after recognizing his fault. Great, now he was furious and annoyed at the same time. He should check her before she did something dangerous for herself or something that would bring trouble on the able for him. He began to search for the girl in the entire around and, to his shock, she was missing.

Using his ability to sense energy was pointless because she did not have enough battle power for him to be able to sense it. Anger became fear and anxiety as he grabbed a jacket to put on. The animals of the planet are all carnivorous and predators. The only difference was the strength. A small animal is not always weaker than a giant one.

Hoping that she was close to the house, he turned his head to the right, then to the left. For a noise to get his attention and for him to instantaneously run to the source. While he made his way to the source. He picked on the energy of a creature that happened to be near and the smell of blood. It only made him run faster and be relieved to find the baby still alive, but walking toward the creature currently eating on another predator.

Right, a baby does not recognize danger even when it is literally eating a corpse. So, he took action by jumping on the head of the back of the creature, who shouted in surprise before it began to try to get him off by jumping around and running against trees that were close. A pointless effort as he never got off and forced it to run away from the baby too curious for her own good.

Once they were out of view, another shouting, of pain was heard as well as the sound of a head being separated from its body. Kefla coming back to Lucy covered in blood made clear who the winner of the battle was. He surrounded her with energy and lifted her off the ground to take her back in the house.

He was glad he got there in time before the predator had noticed her.

He put her on the sofa in front of the massive television with high definition and turned it on then pressed three different numbers present on the white remote. 1-7-8 and the screen suddenly switched to a channel with cartoon and show for kids and babies. He placed the remote down and looked around to see where she could escape if she became bored again.

Nothing was left open for her to escape through while he made his way to the bathroom to remove the blood and the smell of metal. It relieved his awful mood a little to learn that she was fine. He cared about her a lot. Hopefully, the channel will have her interest for a while as he started cleaning himself up.

The life of a single father was difficult, but, surely, it will be rewarding. She is not his actual daughter. However, he was the one raising her, and it was official that he was the father of the girl ever since she became a citizen of Sadala. He should become more careful in the future. The reason she was doing all of this was because of how bored she was. He had never seen or heard of anything baby that curious, but he would just have to distract her until she stopped putting herself into a dangerous situation.

That, and stopped doing stuff that would make his life a lot harder than it was supposed to be. He needed a break or something, but he could forget having a break. He got to take care of her.

[holdinbacksecrets]

boyfriend things// meeting people you love

disclaimer: i made these more personalized bc i couldn’t help myself p.s lighthearted/fun/fluff

namjoon: he would show up to your apartment thirty minutes before the set time because he was worried about finding parking, even though your complex has a garage that’s rarely full. he asks if there’s anything he can help you with, but all you have to do is coat your bottom lashes with mascara and choose a tinted moisturizer for your lips. joon says you look beautiful, and holds your hand while he walks you to his car, carrying the cake box for rachel’s birthday in his left hand, admiring the pastel balloons in your right one. “do you remember everyone?” “mhmm, i made flash cards” your heart-fluttering, “of course you did” mary has freckles and never leaves the house without the flannel her mom wore in the 90s. rachel works at the cafe near the university, and that’s how you two met. you share the same zodiac sign and often react in synchronization, something joon looked forward to witnessing, which urged you to remind him he knows 6 people who do the same thing. lucy is soft spoken and talks about her cat maple when she’s nervous. happens to be very knowledgeable about plants (botany major), so she and joon will get along swimmingly

jin: instead of your friends, jin would be meeting your two younger sisters who were in town... just in time for the concert -world tour 2022?- in Seoul, and he would insist on you bringing them. jin might have set up a fitting with Fila for matching track suits and definitely asked what their favorite foods are for catering, but you insisted they’ll be happy with sandwiches or cereal. he doesn’t agree. when you show up to the stadium he’s literally the sweetest ever. you fall in love with him all over again because he’s asking lucy about school and if it’s stressful being a student athlete. he tells her to send you videos of her meets so he can watch, knowing the likelihood of showing up to a college swim meet and not causing utter turmoil is unlikely, and he didn’t want to be a distraction. he asks mina about her life in new zealand and tells her how much fun he had there, and a trip out to see her would be perfect. she talks to jungkook because they’re both fearless, and she’s still waiting to cross skydiving off her bucket list. jin gives mina a cooky headband and she’s blushing, having no idea you told jin her bias is jungkook. he rolls his eyes dramatically when he gives lucy the chimmy headband and mang plushie, urging her to “make up her mind.” he’ll definitely take you all out to brunch the next morning. makes your sisters laugh and your heart sing. once you’re done with the meal/alone with your sisters again, mina will ask how much longer y’all will be waiting until a ring is on your finger. lucy says it won’t be long after seeing the way he looks at you. you hope she’s right. surprise: she was right

yoongi: this man is so suave and nonchalant, but that isn’t always the case when it comes to you. nerves shine through the cracks of his demeanor. you can see them in his cheeks turning a pretty shade of rose. in the way he keeps changing his shirt. back and forth. back and forth. and he didn’t notice you standing in the doorway. biting your lip to stop yourself from interrupting, but you can’t help yourself “do you mind my two cents?” he looks up and you disapprove of both t shirts and find the sage colored sweater because he looks so damn good in them. and if there was something that would make your friends more likely to give their approval, it would be Min Yoongi in a soft, sage green sweater. truly powerful. according to yoona, a sweater “shows they’re willing to make an effort”. nina always says “boyfriend energy exists in a sweater, and we must see what y/n is working with”. extra points for a shy, gummy smile *check and check*

hoseok: somehow a lot of time would go by and previous attempts to get the!crew together kept falling through because half of your friends are students and the other half have joined the corporate world. therefore everyone’s schedules are all over the place, and then you have to add in hoseok’s who spends an insane amount of hours rehearing, at the studio or traveling. and when free time does arrive maybe you want him all to yourself ...is that bad? so when things finally work out, it’s your birthday. the nerves you expected to feel are pretty much forgotten because you spent the whole day decorating your apartment with your friend jess, blowing up balloons and hanging lights. she met hoseok when he showed up with lunch for the both of you and basically melted as soon as she saw his smile. the moment included: “wait a damn minute. you’re handsome as fuck.” yes all your friends say something about his beauty and sunshine spirit. hell yes you end up dancing and drinking the champagne he brought too. your friend ella falls asleep in the guest room, and in the morning you wake up to the sound of her laughing with your boyfriend while they eat breakfast and look through the stack of polaroids from the night’s festivities. later that week, hoseok gushes over how happy you are around your friends. you seem more relaxed, and he likes that look on you,, “happy and carefree makes your eyes sparkle,” but he didn’t know the biggest smiles came with every compliment shared by the girls in your life for the man you love

jimin: you have a few really close friends. one of whom lives in the same complex as you and regularly comes over for meals, work and rant sessions, or evenings of reality tv. tonight happened to be the latter, but jimin came over unexpectedly, completely distracting you. and even if you remembered the plans later that evening, they would’ve evaporated from your mind as soon as you saw him standing outside your door... looking so good. skin dewy and smelling strongly of vanilla. you could see the tired in his eyes, but he still smiled so brightly having you so close. hours later, one movie down and a second just starting with take out on the way, jennie shows up, and jimin opens the door thinking it’s your dinner. you recognize her voice and curse yourself for forgetting, but of course jimin is a sweetheart and tells her she has to stay, that food’s on the way, and you watch them with love in your eyes as they bond over dance (jennie teaches at a studio) and pictures of her corgi, buttermilk. when the food arrives, jimin makes up plates for everyone. he gives you extra black bean noodles and asks what jennie prefers. when he jogs to the kitchen for a coke, jennie nods, with a LOVE him, and her signature, double 👌 jennie’s 👌 are like shooting stars. her students and friends all agree: they come rarely and mean a hell of a lot. you know he’ll be excited to hear all about it later

taehyung: instead of taehyung being nervous, your friends were. and mostly because they’re all fans to varying degrees and have spent an embarrassing amount of time mentally preparing themselves out of fear they’ll do something stupid and turn him off. of course you share all of this with him, and he finds it hilarious and cute, not at all worried about how your friends will be. he was honored they at least like bts’ music, hoping that would give him some brownie points in case he came across awkward or quiet. once a month your friend erin holds a game or trivia night. everyone brings a dish for potluck and dresses to a theme. the night taehyung was joining happened to be Evening in Paris, which he was ecstatic about. y’all showed up looking way too good in comparison to the mustaches made with eyeliner and toilet paper berets. tae dressed as an artist, with his apron pockets holding acrylic paints and brushes, and you his muse. ended up getting a little tipsy. tried to stop erin from attempting the butter choreo. tae hyped her up, filmed the whole thing. ate lots of crackers and the homemade hummus lisa brought. taehyung couldn’t get enough of the puppy chow from meredith, his fingers coated in powdered sugar. yes he won every game that evening and took home the stuffed octopus prize. prizes are always stuffed animals. no one knows why. you’d get more use out of a candle

jungkook: poor baby is a nervous wreck. shows up early but paces between your bedroom and the kitchen, eating from the bag of pretzels left out on the counter. you laugh from the closet as you hear his big ass boots stomping and then stopping and then the crunching and then his head appearing in the doorway. you kiss him every time he calls your name in hopes of your lips calming him down. smiling, “you taste like pretzels and strawberry lip balm” the tactic works, and his shoulders relax more with each kiss,,muah “my friends will fall in love with you immediately. in case you didn’t know, you’re quite the charmer... not sure why you’re so nervous?” jungkook doesn’t understand where your question is coming from “i’m in love with you?? and not impressing my partner’s friends is something i won’t recover from.” you roll your eyes because this man is being dramatic. “and you had to try so hard to impress me, right?” and of course he smiles at that and all you can do is laugh because he KNOWS. he knows it’ll be fine, and if you’re so in love with him, there’s no way your friends won’t be too. he looks at the picture in your glove department one more time, recalling the names of the friends surrounding you in the picture from your 23rd birthday, before going into the restaurant. kisses you deeply before opening his door. probably asks you if his hair looks ok. dude looks like a prince for real. spoiler: they adore him. you’re worried lea might love him more than you after he helps her out of her coat. clumsy girl managed to get her arm stuck in the sleeve. he has his left hand on your thigh the entire evening, looks at you often to admire and smile fondly

check out the masterlist 🤍

[howlingday]

tragic backstory (tm) au) jaune fights his team but they're so freaked out by his amazing power that they end up losing, how does beacon react to jaune's true power?

meanwhile jaune thinks his team might be sick, they seem to be sweating a lot and during the spar they had pyrrha screamed and threw ren and nora at him. then she fainted when he went to check on her mumbling something about there being no opening in his stance. and now they were all hiding from "his kingly wrath" according to nora (she's still willing to answer his calls on her scroll even if she's hiding)

Please Stop Sending

Thoughts And Prayers!

For their work-out today, Team JNPR conducted sparring matches between one another Jaune and Pyrrha contested, and to both of their surprise, he bested her. Though he insists it was luck, Pyrrha whispers to the others it's something more, as she noticed he easily blocked every strike she made.

Nora and Ren paired off to spar, and the results were to be expected with Nora victorious overpowering him. However, the team noticed his improvement, as he survived much longer with more hits on Nora. Nora waved it off as her having an off day. Ren simply shrugged.

Then came the final showdown between Jaune and Nora. Nora grew excited as her fearless leader made a few practice swings with his sword. He thought this was going to be easy, just because he lucked against his partner. Unfortunately for him, Nora was full of vim and vigor and wasn't going to hold back. Nothing could shake apart her resolve. She can do this.

Nora: I CAN'T DO THIS! (Pushes Jaune away) I can't do this! I give!

Jaune: Come on, Nora, we barely just started! I mean, you only caught my attack on your handle so far. You haven't even attacked me yet.

Nora: There's no point! You're too strong!

Jaune: Nora-

Nora: I want my Ren!

Jaune: (Sighs) Fine. (Turns around) I guess we'll call it a day.

Nora: (Leaps at him, Ready to hammer down on his head)

Jaune: (Turns and slips into her guard, Shield bashes her) Nice try, Nora, but I saw that coming a mile away! Now, do you actually give up, or are you going to sneak attack me again?

Nora: (On the ground, Clutching her belly) I'm good...

Yang: H-Hey, Jaune.

Jaune: Hey, Yang! What's up?

Yang: Uh, nothing. Listen, I just want to say I'm sorry.

Jaune: Sorry for what?

Yang: For, well, not being there for you, you know? I feel like you went through a lot, and... Well, I wasn't there to protect you.

Jaune: Uh, I have no idea what you're talking about. Did you do something?

Yang: No, and that's kind of the problem. I should have been there to help you, but I wasn't, and I feel like a bad sister because of it.

Jaune: Sister? You're not my sister Yang.

Yang: I know. I shouldn't even be talking to you like your sister. I wasn't there for you when you were growing up, and because of that, I'm not worth forgiving.

Jaune: Look, Yang, if you feel that bad about it, let's reason it out. You say you feel bad about not being there for me when I was growing up. So, what were you doing while we were growing up?

Yang: I was... Well, I was raising Ruby.

Jaune: Exactly! So instead of blaming yourself for not being there for me, remember that you were there for your little sister. If you focused on me, who would have protected her?

Yang: Huh... You're right!

Jaune: You may not be my sister, Yang, but I'd be proud to have you as one for raising someone as awesome as Ruby and yourself.

Yang: Thanks, Jaune. You're the best!

Jaune: Oh, I don't know about that.

Yang: (Points) What's that over there?

Jaune: (Looks) Over where?

Yang: Made you look! (Punches his shoulder) Ha! Gotta make up for lost time, y'know? Later, Jaune!

Jaune: (In the wall) Later, Yang...

Jacques: An embarrassment! An absolute disgrace!

Whitely: Father?

Jacques: Damn near twenty years at this company, and it's stocks are plummeting because some hick in the middle of nowhere feels bad about a bunch of terrorists?! It's an outrage!

Whitely: Father?

Jacques: WHAT?!

Whitely: G-General Ironwood is requesting a scroll call with you.

Jacques: (Huffs) Very well. Patch him through. (Straightens himself) Good afternoon, General. How may I assist you today?

Ironwood: Mr. Schnee, as you know, the Atlas military greatly benefits from your Dust supply, and wish to continue to do so.

Jacques: (Smiles) That's very kind of you, General, but hardly requires a social call when we are both busy men.

Ironwood: Agreed, which is why I am also informing you that the Atlas military and Atlas Academy are both all-inclusive establishments of both human and Faunus attendance and participation, and do not look kindly on discrimination of any kind.

Jacques: (Scowls) I see. And this call is in regards to...?

Ironwood: Jaune Arc has been a person of interest to Atlas for the past few weeks, long before your "incident" with him. However, there is almost no information available regarding him.

Jacques: ...Go on.

Ironwood: What I'm asking, Jacques, is that you aid us in our investigation of Jaune Arc. Your reach and resources could shed some light on this mysterious young man, and reveal whether he is our greatest ally, or our most dangerous enemy.

Jacques: I will think on it, James. After all, this is a big task, and failure after accepting this task could result in devastating ruin of both my company and Atlas itself. But, then again, it is for the good of Atlas.

Ironwood: Thank you. Please contact me as soon as you have your answer.

Jacques: But of course, General. (Hangs up, Smiling wickedly) For the good of Atlas.

Qrow: Anything else you wanna talk about before we do this?

Roman: Honestly, no. The more we talk, the more anxiety it gives me. This whole plan just stinks of going belly-up real quick.

Qrow: You just have to convince him you're his brother in law. It shouldn't be hard, unless something crazy happens.

Roman: (Knock on the door) Who the hell is that? Neo, could you get the door?

Neo: (Nods, Opens door) !

Roman: Oh, damn it all!

Qrow: You've gotta be kidding me.

Scarlet: Romie! I'm home!

Roman: So, this crazy enough for ya?

[ynscrazylife]

Begging you to write a super angsty Nat x reader fix where the reader has a near death experience and has to deal with the ptsd after w Nat!!

You’ll Get Through This

Summary: After suffering a near death experience, Y/N develops PSTD symptoms and her girlfriend Natasha does her best to try and help her through it.

Trigger Warning: Being stabbed/near death

Note: I do not have PTSD. I have researched how to write characters with PTSD symptoms to write this accurately to the best of my abilities. I would never want for this to offend or hurt anyone so PLEASE let me know if my portrayal is offensive and I’ll fix or remove it.

When writing this, I did my best to accurately write symptoms of PTSD and triggers that I have researched. Here are some of the sources that I used: 1, 2, and 3.

* Thank you to @nyx-aira who nominated this fic for “Best One-Shot — Angst Fic” in The Tumbies 2021!

No one saw it coming. 

Literally. 

The Avengers were on a mission and they had been fighting some aliens. 

And one alien, apparently, had the ability to be invisible. 

One second Y/N had been fighting and the next she was letting out a bone-shattering scream as she fell, and an alien revealed themself, having stabbed her in the stomach with a sword. 

Natasha could never forget hearing her girlfriend mustering out a weak whisper over comms. Those desperate words would haunt her dreams forever.

“Guys . . . I’m down. Stabbed.” 

And then silence. She had passed out. 

Natasha lost it. She yelled. She cried. She ran as fast as she could and hissed out orders at everyone else. The fearless woman had never been so fearful. The woman who everyone thought was emotionless had never been so emotional. 

Of course anyone close to her would know that she was fearful and she did show her emotions, but they could never be prepared for this.

Days later, Y/N was stabilized. Weeks later, she was able to leave the hospital and stayed, resting, at the Avengers Tower ever since. 

Everyone was worried for her, especially Natasha. Y/N was numb to the world. She barley talked and when she did she was angry. Who or what she was angry with? No one knew. But she was angry. And normally, Y/N wasn’t angry. 

When Y/N had approached Natasha, saying that she had wanted to be in her own room rather than their shared room, Natasha respected her wishes. However, the redhead couldn’t deny that it broke her heart. All she wanted to do was help and support her girlfriend, but she also didn’t want to push her, so she let her be, let her move into her old bedroom. 

Everyone was trying and failing to think of ways to help their friend and teammate. Y/N was distancing herself from everyone and she refused to talk about what had happened. 

The Avenger was sitting in her old bedroom now, immersing herself in a book she always loved to read. However, she heard a knock on her door and it made her jump slightly. After a couple deep breaths, she quietly said, “Come in.” 

The door slowly opened and Natasha poked her head inside, offering her a warm smile in hopes of comforting her. “Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?” 

Y/N thought for a moment and nodded, putting her book aside. Natasha’s smile got a little bigger and she stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. There was silence as she sat down on the bed next to Y/N. 

“I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing? If you need any support?” Natasha said softly. 

Y/N bit her lip and shook her head ‘no’, looking away. “I’m okay,” she murmured.

She missed the slight tears that welled in Natasha’s eyes before she blinked them away. “Y/N, I . . .” Black Widow hesitated before continuing. “I’ve dealt with PTSD. I know the symptoms and-” 

Y/N stood up, facing the wall and cutting her off. “I’m fine, Natasha,” she hissed. 

Natasha looked up at her, internally sighing. “I don’t want to push you. I want to be there for you if you’d like,” she started to say in a broken voice. 

Y/N turned around to face her girlfriend, enraged. For half a moment Natasha thought she was going to be yelled at and prepared herself to take it, but was surprised when something else happened. Y/N was clearly mad, but she was holding it back, and because she held it back, tears came instead. 

“I appreciate it and I know you don’t want to push me but I just can’t talk about this. I can’t think about this, Natasha. I’m trying not to think about how much it hurt and how I thought I was dying, okay? I know someone, maybe not you, but someone is gonna try and talk to me about it and I don’t want to remember it! It’s painful,” she interrupted, before letting out a noise of frustration and exhaustion, and walked out of the room, leaving Natasha speechless. 

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

A couple days after that, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner stood around a table in Bruce’s lab. That table had the sword that Y/N had been stabbed with, scrubbed of the blood. The two men wanted to study this sword, for it was unlike everything they’ve ever seen (it was alien, after-all). They also hoped it would give them information on the aliens they fought on their mission. 

“Tony,” Bruce said, staring down at the sword. The billionaire hummed, prompting the scientist to continue. “We've gotten everything we can out of this sword - it isn’t much. If we want to know more, we’ll need to ask Y/N.” 

Tony turned to him. “Y/N? What could she tell us?” He asked, confused. 

Bruce sighed. “She was the one who was stabbed with it. She got a good look, felt the, er, sword, and was the only one who saw the alien who stabbed her. Maybe she can help us find them? Or she can give us a hint on why the alien stabbed her if a different alien was fighting her?” He reasoned. 

The two Avengers shared a look, both conveying regret and hesitation. Despite wanting and, well, needing to know more information, they were reluctant to ask Y/N, and were doubtful she’d want to tell them much of anything.

After their silent conversation, Tony made a decision. “FRIDAY, please tell Natasha to come down to Bruce’s lab if she can,” he said to the A.I. 

Two minutes later, the redheaded spy appeared. She furrowed her eyebrows seeing her teammates, wondering what they needed her for, but her eyes widened when she saw that damned sword.

“What are you doing?” She asked accusingly, crossing her arms. 

“We need to talk to Y/N about the sword. Has she been talking to you?” Bruce asked. 

Natasha frowned. She sighed and opened her mouth to tell the men of what happened the last time she and her girlfriend spoke, when a voice interrupted them.

“Hey, Bruce, can I-?” All three Avengers turned around to see Y/N, entering the lab and in the middle of asking a question. She cut herself off abruptly, getting a clear view of the sword, and stared at it momentarily.

All those memories. All those memories she had ignored. She was now being forced to remember them, as that sword was right smack in front of her. 

She stumbled back, starting to breath in short, ragged breaths, and feeling the need to get out and get out now. She had to get away, away from the sword, away from the pain, away from the memories. You’d think she had superspeed with how fast she moved, practically running from the room and looking for any safe space. Subconsciously, Y/N went to that safe space. She went to Natasha’s room, formerly both of theirs, and sat on the bed, trying to calm herself or distract herself or do anything.

As soon as Natasha had seen her girlfriend there, and saw her face transform into that of like a deer in the headlights, and saw her turn around and run, she panicked. Turning back to Iron Man and Hulk, Black Widow ordered, “Get the sword out,” and followed her girlfriend. 

She kept going until she saw Y/N enter their bedroom and followed her in after, catching the door before it shut. She then carefully shut the door herself and focussed her undivided attention on the love of her life. 

Y/N sat on their bed, hands clamped on her head. Natasha could tell she was trying to take deep breaths and calm down, but it wasn’t working. She had shut her eyes closed, tightly, and Natasha lowered herself to be in front of Y/N and at her level. 

“Y/N,” Natasha said softly, gently cupping Y/N’s face. “Follow my breathing, okay?” 

She began to take deep breaths and after a few moments, Y/N did too. They kept that going for nearly five minutes until Y/N spoke up. 

“I’m so tired, Nat, and overwhelmed,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Natasha nodded. “I know, love,” she said, and then moved to sit next to Y/N on their bed. “I’m sorry about our . . . what happened the other day. You’re going to get through this, though, okay? I’ll give you my full support if you want it. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I’m here for you.” 

Natasha wrapped an arm around Y/N who leaned into her arms, nodding. “I missed you,” she said. 

The former agent smiled, resting her chin on Y/N’s head. “Me, too. We can also find a therapist if you want it, yeah?” She said, and then added. “I love you.” 

Y/N smiled a little and nodded again. “I love you, too.”