#i know most people see him as the wisest and older one but what if hes a pompous scared smart brat

[scribz-ag24]

i think dusknoir should be the dramatic youth of the trio

[junedenim]

i want to stay with you, my love

the consequence of having roommates

warnings: smut, age gap, fingerfucking & stuff

word count: 2.5k

It was convenient small talk. Two strangers leaving a party at the same time. The elevator rattles. The building is old. He's old. Well, older. It's unhealthy, daddy issues labeled by some, predatory by others. But he's quiet and cute and he wore a button-up to a party most people wore a T-shirt too—unless you were old like him.

You weren't. I mean, women always tend to put more effort into these kinds of things than men. Most women at the party look like they came from a business meeting or a strip club. You likely fell into the latter. Your coat, a long tweed thing, concealed that fact. It masked you as one of those professionals.

You know he's looking over. He isn't good at hiding these things, most men aren't. They're sleazy and like women to know when they're disgustingly ogling at them. This guy's shyness is endearing. You noticed it when you were the only two people in the hallway waiting for the elevator. Eyes darting over but always facing forward when you looked over. Now, in the elevator, he continues this behavior.

"Going home for the night?" You ask.

He looks over as if unsure you're speaking to him like he isn't the only other human in this tiny elevator. "No," he answers, "headed out for a smoke." British. Interesting and not done since your study abroad semester in London. "You?" His eyebrows are still raised. He's definitely interested. 

"Headed home." You smile. The elevator hits the bottom floor.

He looks down at his watch. You giggle to yourself. What man still owns a watch and actually checks it for the time? "At 10:30? You're either the saddest or the wisest person here tonight." He's smirking, peering down at you as the metal doors open.

Neither of you makes a move to exit the elevator. You smile and look up at him through your eyelashes. "Indulge me and say the wisest." You walk out first but wait for him to join you so you can leave the apartment building together.

"Alright." He's as proper-looking as you can get at 10:30 after several glasses of, what you assume, is whiskey by the smell of it. His hair is buzzed, smooth, and freshly cut. Most notably, he has sunglasses on. At 10:30 at night.

"You mind if I join you for that smoke?" You're flirtatious and suggestive. Everything you need to get the attention of a man at this hour and that attire. 

"Could always use the company." He holds the door open to exit the building first. 

Outside, the air is bitter. Winter has finally come and he looks like he left his jacket upstairs. You almost want to huddle him like a baby rabbit. Your coat a cocoon for his caterpillar. 

He continues his gentlemanly manners by handing a cigarette to you before taking one for himself. The flame sparked from his zippo—yes, a zippo, he might as well pull out a matchbox next time—and a heat spreads on your skin like it's a bonfire. He lights yours first too.

"You Corey Hart or something?" You ask him, taking the first puff.

"Hm?" He wrinkles his brows together. He's got permanent wrinkles too. They're charming like imprints from a life lived. One you have yet to experience. 

"'Sunglasses At Night'?" You clarify. He takes a drag of his and he seems so particular about it. He purses his lips out in one direction when blowing the smoke out, much clearer about it than when you talked the smoke out.

He chuckles. "I didn't think you were old enough to know who Corey Hart is." So, he knows how young you are. Is he into that kind of thing? Are you gonna have to call him daddy tonight? You don't mind it but sometimes that stuff can feel so infantilizing and come from guys who would fuck teenagers if they could.

"Child of the digital age," you reply. He takes his sunglasses off then. "You don't have to take them off at my teasing."

"No, no, I just want to see you clearer." He's good.

"And how do I look?" Your lips pout and you take a drag hoping the smoke will elicit memories of burning fires for him.

He eyes you up and down, from those chipped colouring of your stilettos to the fly-aways on your head. "Fucking pulchritudinous."

"Excuse me?" Big words, drunk brain.

"You're fucking gorgeous."

"You using big words to compensate for something?"

He laughs. He laughs at you insulting his manhood. Most men are bitter about that kind of thing. He's throwing his head back and the smoke floods its way out through his nose. "Demonstrating length."

An equal-sparing partner. An even more tempting offer than a simple man. He's attractive, looks like he has money if the watch is anything to go by, intellectual, and—allegedly—has a big cock. You tilt your head. "Oh, yeah?"

"What direction are you going?" He asks.

"I thought you were just heading out for a smoke. Won't your friends be concerned?" Or your girlfriend or wife? 

He shakes his head. "Nah, they'll figure it out soon enough. I'm not the type of guy to get kidnapped."

"Who's to say I'm not going to kidnap you?"

He smirks. "I think I'd like you holding me hostage."

You dramatically blink your lashes. "What about me? Am I safe?"

He raises his eyebrows. "From kidnapping? Yes."

"And from other things?"

"Depends on what they are."

You would consider yourself a good judge of character so you wordlessly start walking down 1st Street. He discards his cigarette and walks beside you. "I don't live too far. Could've walked myself home." You feel the need to make that clear. That you're the independent woman who carries pepper spray in her purse. 

"I don't doubt that," he says. 

You don't even know his name. Something about that is alluring. A complete and total stranger, but you're still curious. "Where's that accent from?"

"British," he answers.

You giggle. "I got that far."

"I'm from up north. Sheffield."

You hum. "I don't know why I bothered asking. I suck at geography."

He teases, "I live in LA now. Do you know where that is?"

"Don't be a smartass now."

"What about yours? I got the American part."

You shake your head. "You're not gonna know. It's a tiny, little thing." You put your index finger and thumb within a centimeter of one another. "I just say LA now. I've lived here since I was 18."

"And what was that? 2 years ago," he jokes.

You slap him with your purse. You quietly laugh too. "I'm 24," you clarify. "What are you? 50?"

He clutches his heart. "You wound me. I was born in 1986 if you can do the math on that one."

You roll your eyes. "Too ashamed to say it out loud."

He switches the subject. "Who do you know up there?"

You ask, "At the party?" He nods. "A friend of a friend. You?"

"Just a friend. My friend."

"How evasive?"

"You're the enigma here."

You hum. You stop walking. It amuses you how quickly he follows your move. You walk up the stairs to your building, unlocking the door. He follows behind, no invitation. "We can sit in the lobby." You gesture him to the ottoman across from the mailboxes. 

You take out your vape, offering a hit to me. "You can smoke in here?"

You shrug. "Everyone else does." 

"And you choose to smoke that thing?" He sounds like your father. It makes you giggle.

"You've never even tried it. Have you?" You take a hit from it.

He plucks a cigarette out from his pack, sitting it between his lips as he rests on the ottoman. You take your place beside him. "I'll stick with me cigarettes."

You chuckle at his accent. Sure, you like smoking, but you like watching him smoke more. He wraps his lips around the cigarette and hollows his cheeks. It's an arousing sight to watch. You want to reach out and trace his jawline. 

"How drunk are you?" He asks.

Considering you had been at the party for only close to an hour and it hadn't quite hit the hour where everyone was drowning in alcohol, your intake had been light. "Two drinks, not very."

"That's good."

"Why?" You smirk over him. The smoke allures you to him, dragging you unconsciously closer to his body. 

"I really wanna fuck you."

A vibration rang through you. You sigh, "My roommate is probably home." You lean back against the wall. His eyes follow you everywhere. You look up at him wide-eyed and seductive. 

"Worried you can't keep quiet?"

You giggle. "I'm worried about you." She taps his nose and he scrunchs it up. He looks so young when he does it. 10 years gone like that.

"I can't believe I didn't see you at the party." You exhale twin streams of smoke from your nostrils. 

"I came late. It's stupid, but I couldn't decide what to wear. It's a kind of social anxiety but with clothes, just clothes, I think. I changed like a hundred times. That's another reason you can't come up. I already have too many clothes lying about on my floor."

"What did you end up wearing?" He's staring at you like he has X-ray vision.

"Oh, just this thing I made."

"Can I see?"

You raise an eyebrow. You take the cigarette from his hands and take a puff. "See!" He exclaims. "Even you prefer it."

"Hush," you say. You press the cigarette between your lips and stand to unbutton the black buttons of the coat. What you're wearing is little of anything. A pink, so pale it's almost white. mini dress so short he's sure if you bent over he could see your underwear. The garment fits you like a glove, obviously hand-tailored to fit. 

"You made that?"

You nod. "It's a hobby of mine."

"Let me come upstairs," he says.

"No," you say, sitting back down. "We'll definitely have sex if you come up." You grind your cigarette on the metal stair tread. "What time is it?" You reach over for his wrist before he can look himself. "11, hm."

"This isn't right. Don't let some roommates get in the way of your fun."

You raise an eyebrow and suppress a smile. "My fun? I think you mean your fun."

"Our fun."

You think for a minute. Hum and look around the room. Then, back at him. "No, but I'll check if they are here for you." 

You stand and shrug your coat off fully, throwing it over your arm. He's worked up a heat in that lobby. He follows you up to the second landing just outside your apartment door. You shake your head disappointed. "Two sets of shoes." You gesture to the dirty Converses outside the door. "They're both home."

He's luring, standing over you with a look that makes you weak in the knees, unable to move. The scent of his cologne is intoxicating when he pulls your body against his, like an open fire in the woods. He looks down at you, determined and unhesitating, and says flatly, "How sad." 

He leans down with a kiss: full-on and inflaming. Your skin burns from the inside out. The taste of whiskey lingers on his lips; the tenderness of his kiss is a surprise. The tip of his nose bumps into yours as you sink into the kiss. His kisses are long and slow, matching the rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

He breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours. "Let me feel your pussy. Yeah?"

You're hypnotized and with a nod and a returning kiss, his hand slides up your thigh, up to the hem of your panties, and carefully finds the skin underneath. Your breath hitches in your throat and you part your legs, as though powerless to resist. 

His breathing sinfully against your ear. Then, he slips one finger inside you. It's rough, almost desperate, but enough to make you throb for more. Biting back a moan, you lean against the door to find some much-needed balance.

"You're so fucking wet," he says, nearly groaning the words against your neck, taking a bite at it. Two digits in, he continues fingerfucking you slowly while circling his thumb around your clit.

He stares right into your eyes like he wants to see every sensation he's causing, he keeps bringing you closer and closer to the edge—and you're fucking ready to jump. With heavy breaths and electricity running up and down your body, you melt into his touch, doing your best to stare back at him. To you, it's a fucking challenge.

"Fuck," you moan. He grins.

You grab the back of his head, roughly in a desperate attempt to gain some control, but can't keep yourself from moaning loudly when he starts fervently kissing your neck like a fucking tootsie pop and he's trying to get to the middle. He pulls his fingers out and slides them up, rubbing my clit with just the tip of his index.

Then, you hear an upstairs door slam shut. You quickly come to a conscious state and reach down to push his hand away. He gets the message and helps you fix the skirt of your dress. He looks so rough and tempestuous but acts so precious and sweet, you want to keep him like a stray dog.

He pulls away when the footsteps down the stairs increase in volume. You act as if you are looking for your keys in your purse. He reaches down and takes a handful of your ass. You gasp and look up at him and spot who is skipping down the stairs. "Hey, Britt!" Too cheery but you always were an overactor in your middle school plays. "Where you headed?"

Brittany was a couple of years older than you. She's one of the few people you could consider a friend in your building. The rest were either crackheads and/or cat ladies that'll die in their own vomit. Brittany and her roommate were fun.

"Headed to Brad's for the night." Her on-and-off-again boyfriend. They were either back together now or booty calling.

"Have fun!"

She eyes him—you really should get his name—before she rounds the landing's railing. She can probably see his hand on your ass. "You too!"

You look at him as he watches for Brittany waiting to see her exit. Then, he snaps back and attacks your lips. His hands are quick, spreading up your thigh again. He touches your clit and you feel rushed.

"Oh, fuck—"

He moves his mouth way down your neck, gently biting your collarbone and your knees nearly give out, but he steadies you with his free hand. The pressure on your sweet spot; his lips wantingly kissing every inch of exposed skin; the audacity of this man.

It doesn't take long, a few more rubs and then he pinches your clit and you let go, unable to hold on any longer, and fall into him. Heart pounding, you revel in the euphoric feeling like a sinner who's found God. He holds you up until you find your footing. Your foreheads pressed together as you share shallow breathing nearly in sync. 

You laugh like a giddy little girl. "You're ambitious."

"Lucky you were wearing a dress and not down on your knees." His voice is low and husky, only weakening your guard.

"You probably would have already came by the time she interrupted."

"Wanna test it?"

*

a/n: this might be the prequel to "everything is romantic." i can't help it if all i do is write prequels & sequels!

[ktjislove1119]

what they'd post on your birthday

-> p1harmony x seventh member! male reader, this was giving more platonic love but i think its still sweeeeeetttt

warnings : none , i think talk of getting old, i guess

rating : fluff 🙏

yoon keeho

- he loves including aesthetic pictures of you (and him) in his dump.

- he likes keeping the messages short and sweet on the internet, but trust the first thing you see and hear when that clock strikes 12 on your birthday is either: a lengthy heartwarming text from him or him just going to your room and smothering you in love.

- he probably will be the first member to greet you because he takes wishing happy birthday to people seriously (secretly holds grudges on everyone that doesnt wish him happy birthday in the first minute of his own) (he does not play when it comes to birthdays). but its because he thinks that theyre such important and sentimental dates.

- always makes it a point in each post and each year on your birthday to say that he can’t wait to grow old with you because he thinks that is one of the most raw forms of love and admiration you can have for someone. envisions a future with you constantly and just gets even more mushy and sensitive about it when your birthday comes around because it’s like, actually real and happening. you two are really getting older together and he just lowkey tears up at the thought of it.

- tries using his persuasive leader skills to get the company to give them all a singular day off to properly celebrate and will try his hardest to fight for this one day off, entirely for you.

- probably cries in his room about it too LMAO i just see him as someone overly sensitive and invested in the idea of growing old with his loved ones, which obviously would include you. thinks about how you two even first met and how you’re both so different now and it lowkey feels like a punch to his gut because the time really is flying so fast.

- keeps the fesitivities of the day wholly centered around you; whatever it is you want to do, he wants to do too! it’s your birthday, they’re all just coming along for the ride since it’s your special day.

choi taeyang

- makes it a point in his message every year to emphasize the fact on staying happy and prioritizing your happiness above else.

- never wants you to forget that you are one of his strongest pillars of support and motivation to keep him going and he very literally needs you to be healthy, happy, and content in order to have peace of mind. he places personal happiness of an individual above everything and really hopes you share that same sentiment so that you can put your own happiness above everything else, too.

- pics he drops of you are very bf-coded lmao don’t ask him if it was purposeful because it wasn’t, he just likes taking off-guard photos of you. he thinks that that is when you’re the most handsome to him, hence why he posts them because he wants others and p1ece to be able to appreciate those photos too.

- makes a lot of jokes on your birthday about how you’re getting old, but are still younger than him therefore a baby.

- i can just imagine him affectionately rubbing his hand on your head or up and down your neck and softly saying that you’re still so young. he feels like reminding you of that fact is important on your birthday, as well as just making you remember that just because you’re a year older doesn’t mean you need to feel rushed into doing something, such as obtaining your goals or dreams. he knows how hard you are on yourself and wants you to know that just because you’re older now doesn’t mean there’s now a timer on how “far” your dreams are now. pulls the “oldest is the wisest” card definitely when he gives you that talk because he’s speaking so articulately on it and solemnly trying to remind you of that fact.

- i feel like he’d be one to reminisce a lot on when you two were younger together, maybe when you were trainees together or just little things you experienced together that you can’t now due to whatever circumstances. speaks fondly of those times, but his heart does ache to see that time is passing by and how different things are now.

- in general, he tries not to be too sappy, but rather keep the mood uplifted and high. he wants you to keep a positive outlook on your life and will remind you that he’s always there for you, to talk or whatever it is you need him for.

choi jiung

- wishes you a happy birthday with the softest smile on his face and maybe even leaning in for a hug, and if he’s really feeling soft about it being your birthday he’ll even kiss the top of your head. it depends on the year, honestly, he’s only done it a total of five times for all the years he’s known you.

- kind of likes to be in control of what goes on on your birthday BUT NOT IN THAT WAY. he obviously doesn’t make the plans for you, chooses things for you — not like that. he just wants to make sure everything is perfect for YOUR day. so he likes to be in charge of cleaning up the place for the celebration, decorating the place, even little things like being the one to place the candles on your cake because he needs them to be perfect and he knows he can do that.

- genuinely will lowkey get pissed or annoyed if any of the members do anything to slightly ruin the plans that were made, shoots them a warning look if even the slightest thing is out of line. he wants you to have this special moment and memory in your mind of how everything was on your special day.

- likes to linger close to you, surveying all the surroundings to make sure it’s too your liking and everything is comfortable.

- in his birthday post to you, he likes mentioning some term of endearment just to show that, while he might not always physically show you how much he loves you, he still harbors such strong feelings of love, admiration, and care for you.

hwang intak

- intak is so incredibly loud and proud each year when it’s your birthday.

- after keeho, he’s probably the next member to eagerly wish you a happy birthday, smothering you in hugs and kisses, squeezing you tight as he proclaims how happy he is that it’s your birthday. jokingly will call you an old man at least once in the day.

- p1ece love his birthday post to you because he drops some of the most top tier pics of you, everyone say thank u intak.

- physically cannot be away from you for too long or else he will start whining about how you have to be near him for your birthday. likes holding onto your arm as an anchor in keeping you close.

- probably another member to quietly cry about how you’re getting older in the privacy of his room or when you all are around the cake, he just randomly lets a tear or two slip. but they’re happy tears, he swears! he’s just sososo happy that you’re life is continuing on for another year AND MANY MORE !!!!!!!! and he just feels so grateful to be able to see you actually grow into such a strong individual, becoming a man he loves and truly admires.

- scrolls through old photos of you and him from your pre-debut days and the smile on his face when he does is so unbelievably wide.

- just a smiley guy throughout the entire day, physical affection amped up to the max, and maybe a tear or two slipping,

haku shota

- the only person to explictly say that they love you in their online post to you.

- loves posting the silliest photos that you two have together, he thinks that that side of yours is one he loves seeing because it reminds him of how the two of you would goof off a lot when you were younger. obviously, having debuted there is almost always some level of maturity and professionalism that you need to show in public. but those silly pics he has of you two together are just cute ways of shota showing everyone, and reminding himself, that at heart, you’re just a silly guy.

- another latcher, along with intak. likes to just be on top of you the entire day, have fun carrying around two fully grown men around with you because these two seriously won’t be away from you for longer than a minute.

- incredibly vocal on your birthday, way more than he usually is because he just loves talking about how it’s your special day, how you’re getting older, but still remaining the same boy that was guiding him when he was a trainee, how much he loves you, how much he hopes you enjoy your day, how- the list goes on.

- will hand you your gift with an eager look on his face, wanting to see you open it right then and there because he was so particular in picking it out for you and wants to see if he did a good job (tell him he did because he did. do it rn. don’t be RUDE tell him or else.)

- definitely not the type to get sentimental though, he doesn’t like looking at birthdays like that. instead, he’s in a completely celebratory mood and outrageously positive the entire day. someone would think it was his birthday from how excited he is about today.

kim jongseob

- jongseob’s post about you is absolutely beautiful and it makes him bashful to read what he feels being made public, but he gets over it rather quickly because he knows that that is how he truly feels and that there’s no other way he could have worded it to you. he also wants people to know how deeply he cares for you and how much admiration he holds for you in his heart. it’s slightly embarrassing, but he gets over it when he hears you acknowledge how his words have touched you.

- he is taking pictures of you the entire day. his film camera, his phone, videoing you as well, he just really wants to commemorate this day and have something to look fondly back on.

- shows you privately, probably at the end of the night when everyone is more worn out, all the photos and videos he had taken of you from all your birthdays prior to this one, smiling into you as you hug him tightly and thank him. he squeezes you just as tight, softly whispering a happy birthday to you and pulling away with a wide grin.

- doesn’t really get sentimental PUBLICALLY, but understands why the other members would. he is secretly super thankful that he gets to be present in your life for each birthday you have had since he’s met you and whenever you blow out your candle, he is, again, secretly wishing with you that you have nothing but a healthy future in front of you. and maybe, also how he wants to be in your life for forever and be there to celebrate every single future birthday with you.

- the next day he looks at the special photo that he has of the two of you in his studio (the one from when you were trainees still — i mentioned it briefly in my other seventh member post) and smiles really sadly at it. realizes that you two will never be those kids again, but snaps himself out of his by reminding himself that he can’t take this present time for granted either.

- jongseob has an undying devotion and care for you that he translates into photos and videos captured of you, smiling softly at them whenever he is in his alone time and just feeling so lucky he gets to really be by your side as you grow older.

[wthtorke]

Feral

Feral predator x Afab reader NSFW - Warning for kidnapping

You've been warned! This one is nasty lmao also has 4k words so be prepared, and enjoy! As always this was seen over a month and something ago on my patre0n! 

Hunting runs in the veins of his people. From the youngest child to the wisest elder, it was a rite. Tradition. Part of them.

Some warriors had their rites before a hunt. Some prayed, some others cleaned their weapons and sharpened their blades. He chooses to watch.

Hunting is about patience, he believes. So he watches them days before striking.

He sees her on his first day. A foggy morning in the dense forest they resided in now. A small village on the outskirts of a kingdom he flew over before landing; since then, he got bewitched.

The air smelled of leaves, the occasional local fauna scent hitting him as the thick smell of humans below made it almost too annoying to breathe without his mask.  He wasn't hunting- yet.

He stretched over the thick tree branch supporting his weight, looking intently at the artificial shelter he knew belonged to her. Man-made.

To say he was interested was an understatement. He was intrigued, rather obsessively, even. What he feels in his sheath isn't the thrill of the hunt but the desire for a partner. A mate, It's odd.

He feels his cock throb, pressing against his crotch armor, yearning to be free and inside of something right after, to be inside of her.

He had heard of it before from older, wiser warriors. "Your cock is stupid. Sometimes it will mistake prey for a mate, don't listen to it." He had scoffed, just a youngblood then, "So what to do if that happens?"

"Kill it."

She seems to hear his thoughts, or feel the ghost of them, for she looks straight up at the tree he had been resting on, now watching her from another angle- Lower, closer. She seemed to be a servant of some sort, always carrying a basket of food, feeding the stock, or hauling buckets of clothes to the river like she was now, crouched on the side of it. She forgot the scrubbing as she looked around, looking for him.

She hadn’t seen him yet. None of them had. He hadn’t killed anything yet, nothing that didn’t deserve it, but he found that he liked watching her. All of her species was weak; her included; a frail little thing was washing her strange clothes on the riverbank, day after day, with no greater ambitions for the future than to get her daily chores done and maybe get some rest.

He slowly stalked across the grass, staring at her from the other side of the river. His camouflage made him feel beyond lucky in situations like these; most warriors used it for sneaking surprise attacks, others used it to flee- he used it to watch. He could taste her scent on his tongue, taken by the curving winds into his mouth beneath his mask. It was a hot day like yesterday was, but he’d still have to catch her swimming in the river as she did days ago. He had wondered if she could smell him like he did her. Maybe he just alarmed her prey instinct, watching her lifted head, eyes still scanning for the source of her uneasiness.

He felt his chest rumble, claws gripping the tree bark under his fingers; she might not smell him like the deer or the bears do, but she knew something was wrong. She knows she's not alone, and he can't help but feel his hunter's instincts kicking in.

She doesn't have a mate, not that he can tell- but then again, humans here were strange. Some tribes were more advanced than others; some had shelters made of hide and fabric while others had them made of stone and wood. He found them all to have some hidden savagery in them —especially the wood and stone humans.

She was a wood and stone human, but another thing he noticed about them was the way they looked at one another. Humans and yautja held their differences regarding facial expressions, but every sentient species he knew had a universal "I don't trust you," look. She didn't trust any of them. Especially the males.

He thought about his options as a hunter, and then he thought of his options as a male whose -possible- mate felt distressed around their people.

What to do?

He checks back to reality when another scent hits his nose, muskier, filthy—a male. Feral watches him make his way to her, smaller than him by two of their human heads. He doesn't like it, so he slowly stalks forward, crouched and cloaked to see their interaction.

Human words are odd, he can't make out many of them, and his translator was always shit, but he wasn't an idiot- he could read tones. Every species sounded about the same when pissed the fuck off.

"I've told you time and time again, Gale, I'm not interested." She snaps, scrubbing her clothes harder onto the rocks.

"What in God's name is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I even want to marry you? You should be licking my boots for this." The male hisses. She shakes her head.

He grabs her. She screams.

So he grabs him.

It takes less effort to kill an adult man than it does to skin a snake. His blades slice through him, and his screaming stops– hers do not.

So he grabs her.

He slings the woman over his shoulder as he hears barking in the distance and the faded shouting of other males making their way to the river. He scoffs and runs off.

You keep screaming when the demon carrying you jumps up a tree to another, then another, and another; endlessly, far away from your village. Where to? You had no idea. Your futile attempts at punching its stiff back turned into desperate clinging when he landed straight into the river again, splashing water everywhere and soaking your dress as it scents the air before running up the river with you over his shoulder.

You commend your brain for whatever half-thoughts it could muster while the beast ran away with you. What was it? A demon? An animal never seen before? A creature? It had to be a demon, didn't it? Animals didn't run standing, and they definitely didn't throw people over their shoulders while running.

Its hide was thick and textured. You felt its ridges and needle-like protrusions under your fingers, not enough to cut skin but enough to tickle your palms, its tips pressing against the skin bluntly.

"Please- please put me down!" You pleaded, trying to look back at the thing's head; did it have no ears?

It growled and snarled, shaking you some before speeding up again- as if telling you to keep quiet, so you did.

After an hour, the demon diverges from the river, turning and entering the dense forest. You dozed in and out as it carried you around, getting shaken awake when it stopped by nightfall, dropping you on the patchy floor. Your body screams as you sit up, looking around in the dark, looking for it.

You whip your head around, squinting your eyes and trying to calm your breath; the moonlight is scarce through the trees. You sniffle and wipe your face as you try to listen for any sounds- the ringing in your ears makes it hard to discern any noises.

A twig snaps, and you jump. Your dress drags, wet and heavy, against the grassy patch you're sitting on, "Please- please don't hurt me-," you choked on your words when a twig snapping made you jump a second time. You look back as heavy steps begin walking towards you before the big hands from before are on you again. The clawed fingers close around your arms and move you around as you thrash and squirm in their grasp to no effect.

"Unhand me-! Stop-," you hiss as it drags you onto another grassier spot and sits you down like a toddler, pushing you down two times as if to say stay.

It growls and walks about. You can hear it now; twigs were snapping, huffing, and snarling. You listen to things get thrown around. The sound is like-

"Wood? What are you trying to-,"

A weird sound reaches your ears, like metal scraping against metal; shrill, thin, and prickly like a new needle. You shake your head at it, only opening your eyes when something bright- when immediate warmth reaches your cold, wet frame.

Fire.

“Oh my God!” You gasp in surprise, seeing the structured twigs as you scoot closer to the fire, bringing your stiff fingers closer to the flames, shaking as you did your best to chase the shivers away from your bones. Still- you weren’t alone.

You look around, fire briefly forgotten as you struggle to locate the creature that kidnapped you from the river. It saved you, yes- but what for?

“If you plan to cook me, that fire won’t do!” You blurt out. The panic forces nonsensical words out of your mouth. You shake your head, feeling more tears welling up in your eyes. You cry out loud when the creature comes forth again, only that the fire made him very visible now.

You crawl backward as your lungs burn with every desperate attempt at sucking air. Its skin was not like anything you’d seen before. It wore no clothing other than some kind of leathery loincloth that hung around its hips. Your eyes ran up its form, taking in its muscles- no man you had ever known had muscles like that. No man you knew could kill another like it did, too.

Rapid breathing makes your chest hurt. Your heart is speeding when you meet its face.

Bone.

Its face was of pure bone.

It snarled and snapped, making you cry louder and recoil, pulling your knees to your chest and hiding your face so you wouldn’t face imminent death. You cry harder, feeling your shoulders wack with every desperate sob that leaves you when you hear more cracking in front of you.

You feel its breathing on your skin. The clicking and raspy sounds make you shiver but still, no contact. Why wasn’t it doing anything? You wanted to look, to face your fears. But it was easier said than done.

Feral snorts on the thick fear stench that rolled off you in waves. He shook his head as his open palm hovers over your head, claws spread and ready to close around your form again. He felt annoyed. He didn’t know your language but being so different from you, it was apparent you thought he was some sort of monster. Not far from the truth, but still not it.

He huffs and snarls, trying to catch your scent under all the panic and fear you presented so strongly now. That one trail that made him feel the way he did at the river. The way you’ve been making him feel since he laid eyes on you.

Stupid, he was stupid.

Of course, you would fear him. Of course, you would want to be as far away from him as you could. But there was no way to explain. No way to communicate. Would you even listen to him if he could? Maybe he could try.

Yanking you off the floor like a twig by your arms, Feral steps closer to the fire again, sitting by it as he slowly lowers your struggling form to the floor again. You act like a restless toddler to him, trying to get away from his grasp and run off into the forest.

Luckily for him, he has many young siblings.

Every time you get up, he pulls you back down, forcing you to sit multiple times until you tire out. He can’t hold back his laughter when you land yet again on your ass in front of him.

“What do you want?!” You hiss at him, face hot from the strain, feeling anger boiling over the fear.

It’s easy enough to guess what you’re asking him. So he lifts his finger, points at you, and tensely points it to the floor, growling to make a point.

“What is the point of dying sitting? I’m not making your job easier!” You frown and tense your legs to get up. The speed with which he draws a blade from his thigh and sinks it into the ground next to your leg has you melting back onto the floor.

‘Good.’ He thinks. ‘We’re leaning.’

“O-Okay- I’m sitting now.” You say. His jaw twitches slightly. “Si-tting! I’m sitting! See? Sitting! Sit!” You point at yourself and then at the floor, just like he wanted. “What now?”

Feral snorts again. The stench is still strong. He sheathes his knife again, turning back to look at you. You make him feel things, and he wants to make you feel things in return, but not while you’re so afraid and angry at him.

He places his palms on the floor and leans forward toward you. You try to shy away, and he growls again, lowering to a low hiss when you stop moving.

It was like the hounds back at the village. You spoke to the kennel master a couple of times while helping him deliver puppies into this world. “You have to respect animals.” He said, “They have their own language, learning it means survival to both of you. That usually means find out whatever makes it stop growling and keep doing it until it trusts you.”

So you keep still, chest heaving as the demon gets closer and closer to your face. It didn’t seem to have eyes, but it knew of your every move. How could it be? How could it see anything?

Its bone cheek grazes against yours, its thick neck hovers over your own body. It felt hot, so very hot. Almost as hot as the fire to your side. You could feel its growling in your core, intense, rattling.

You don’t see it move its hand from the ground until it almost touches your other cheek. You close your eyes, gasping a bit. Nothing comes. You feel your tightly shut eyes sting with tears again, and your chest tightens with upcoming sobs before another strange noise reaches your ear.

It's a sound you know well. A sound that made you happy when you were a child, whenever it was your turn to feed the cats milk, a reward for their hard work keeping the mice away from the grains and seeds the village had harvested.

Purring.

Heavy, deep purring.

Your eyes snap open, and your hand shoots up on reflex against its chest, trying to push it back. But it doesn’t move. Nor its body or its hand, still lingering close to your face. Your hand trembles with the vibrations coming from its chest. It goes up your arm and makes your heart skip more beats. You blink, confused. Your cats never purred to people they didn’t like. Was this a trick?

“What-?” You croak, voice raw and raspy from crying and screaming. The tears dry on your eyes, not yet shed as its hand finally comes in contact with your dirty face. You jump a bit when its purring slows down, dragging out more as its clawed thumb slowly strokes your face.

You feel petrified as your fingers curl a bit on its chest, feeling the texturized hide under your palm. Your other arm hurts from supporting your weight when you tried leaning away from it. The strain burns your muscles as you wince a bit, still afraid to move. But not as much as before, scarily enough.

Feral breathes in your scent, letting his other hand snake behind your back, slowly wrapping around your waist to relieve your arm. An excuse to bring you closer to him. You notice the change and shift against him. Not away, but against him. A win, in his book.

He keeps stroking your face, feeling the plush cheek under the pad of his thumb as he slowly drags you closer to him. Feral can feel that scent again, only ever starting to break through the foggy fearful one from before. He rubs his mask against your face as your chest meets his collarbone. So small, yet yielder of such a strange power over him.

“Oh…”

The smallest of noises leaves your mouth. The first one not touched by dread ever since you’ve met. It sends a shiver down his belly, straight to his sheath.  Feral lets the hand on your back slide up and into your hair as he buries his face in it, reveling in the way your chests touched, reveling in how relaxed you were in his hands now.

You couldn’t say what made you let out that breathy sigh for the life of you. Everything felt too real and not real at all. No man had ever touched you like this. No man had ever treated you so…gently. Gentleness this coming from the beast who mauled a man to shreds not hours ago.

Still, it did not matter. Nothing mattered. You let your free arm come up, and touch its shoulder, resting your palm on another patch of prickly skin as he kept sniffing into your hair. It was still sitting as your knees stood just before the ground as it held you in its arms, reminding you again of just how big and dangerous it was.

You sigh and close your eyes for a second, feeling its hot breath against your hair as its hand moves from your cheek to caress your ear, making your hairs stand on end once more. For a different reason this time. Your hand grips its shoulder tighter as its face comes closer to your neck. Maybe this was the end. Maybe it finally tired from toying with you. You can’t bring yourself to be afraid again.

Feral lets his tusks touch your throat before he lowers his jaw and lets his tongue drag against your skin, making you arch your back, pushing your chest against his again. “A-Ahhh…” He chuckles at the noise, his huffing cutting through his purring before it evens out again, deep and constant as before. If not heavier with lust.

You pant, opening your eyes again as you feel the hot tongue swiping against your throat over and over again. Your body felt hot, not from the fire or Its body heat, but from your own desire. Desire. For a demon. Your heart beats faster as you realize what you’re truly feeling in his arms. And just how tight you had been pressing your legs together. You breathe in deeper, heavier, as his tongue moves down to your collarbone.

He supported your body by letting his hand close around your neck, holding you up against him as he licked the skin between your breasts over the fabric of your bodice. You moan, feeling your face burn in embarrassment from everything. But it was not like you. Maybe it had no idea you were embarrassed.

The moan sends another shiver down Feral’s spine and another spike down his sheath. He wanted to breed. Badly. But most importantly, he wanted to breed you.

Feral pulls back long enough to let his claws hook around the bodice’s fabric, slowly pulling it down, baring you to him. You panted and closed your eyes. The hand on his shoulder tightened even more, but he couldn’t smell fear. Shyness wasn’t a thing among his people; there was no use for it. But he couldn’t say he didn’t find it oddly endearing.

The fabric catches under your breasts as the sleeves strain against your shoulders, leaving your chest exposed to the night air. To his tongue. He breathes heavily as he looks them over. Most of the females he knew were flat-chested. Their breasts only swelled when they were with child. But you had no child now. Was this normal of your kind? What would you look like when…?

Another shiver. His cock strains against his sheath, ready to breach it.

He growls and lowers his face to your chest again, feeling the softness with his tusks, letting his tongue drag over the nipple he chose to lick. Your gasps and foreign words urge him on, bringing his other hand to feel the other breast as he purrs louder than ever. You smelled good, tasted good, and felt good. How could he deny this? He brought your hips closer to his torso as he switched breasts with his tongue, making you arch against him again. Only some more layers of fabric separated him from you. He shivers again. His sheath opens.

Feral groans as he lowers you to the ground, positioning himself between your legs. Between the rumple of the fabric of your dress’s skirt. You pant as he plans his next move, lifting your skirts over to your belly, and exposing your legs along with your chest.

You clutch the fabric nervously as you try to regain your breath. You knew how things worked between a man and a woman. But this was no man, and you surely never heard of one so big as this for comparison. It fumbles with its crotch cloth before turning back to you.

His cock stood fully hard before you, slick and as big as you thought it’d be, if not more. Your eyes widen, and your cunt tightens around nothing. You let out a breathless sigh as he moves closer to you, hooking his hands under your legs and pulling you to him. His cock was reddish like the center of his chest, ridged and bumpy like his skin. It’s your turn to shiver, and he purrs for you.

The head of his cock slides against your slit, and you gasp, choking on a moan as he nudges your clit before coming back down and repeating the motion. Your slick mingles with his as he presses his head against your hole. It’s tight, unforgivingly tight. It’s going to hurt.

Your entrance is breached, and you’re frowning hard already, feeling the thick, swollen head of his cock pulsating inside your cunt. The corners of your vision go white as you pant in strain, lust, and anxiety at what's to come.

He pauses and reaches for his back, his free hand stroking your thigh as he produces one of his weapons from his back. Some kind of spear.

Feral’s hand leaves your thigh to aid him in pulling it apart, making it a two-piece. He lays the blade part on the ground and keeps the end part to himself. He purrs heavily again as he lowers the pommel to your cunt, resting it over the small nub that made you react so hard before. He reaches for his wrist gauntlet and presses two buttons, causing it to vibrate.

You yell out in surprise and pleasure as he presses the vibrating pommel to your clit, leaning over you as you moan and squirm under the best sensation you’ve ever felt in your life. A sudden rush flows through your body as your pussy spasms around his cock. You groan as he presses more of his cock into your cunt, slacking on the floor as he lifts the pommel from you again, stopping his movements halfway through once more. He strokes your thigh, and you crane your neck to look up at him, “Please- please do that again. Please.”  You beg, pointing at his spear’s end.

He understands. And lowers the pommel onto you once more. “Please-” you pant, moaning as he shifts closer to you, pressing the same spots on his strange wrist armor. You rest your hand over his on the spear, panting harder before that sensation kicked in again full force. It shook you to your core, rattling you from the inside out in the best way possible. “In me-, in me-” you beg in between moans, grabbing his thigh under yours with your other hand, trying to pull it closer to you. Feral snarls and closes his free hand around your hip, thrusting his cock the rest of the way in. You shouted again as that same rush crashed over you again, making you tighten around the massive cock deep into you.

Feral roars and bucks his hips, small spurts of precome getting squeezed out of him by your pussy. “Please- please- please fuck me, please-” He recognized the word as he pulled his cock back and thrusted back in fully, tossing the spear end to the side as he focuses on you again. Your eyes roll back into your skull as he sets a bruising pace, hands tightly gripping your hips as he roars and snarls.

You panted and gasped as your dress dragged roughly against the forest floor as he fucked you hard, the loud noises of your mating enough to make you close your eyes in embarrassment once more. No one could hear you here, only him. All of your moans and screams were for him and only him, as his growling and purring were yours, and yours only.

“I’m going to- I-” You shudder as you feel that rush coming through you again, in a slightly different way this time, but no less pleasurable than before as you grab his arms, coming onto his cock for the third time. Feral roars and slams his cock as deep as he could, filling you up to the brim with thick come. It drips from your cunt and onto your skirt’s fabric, torn and dirty after everything you went through this day alone.

Feral doubles over and rests his head on the ground next to yours supporting himself with one of his hands. He purrs and nuzzles into your hair again as you struggle to regain your breath once more. He licks your cheek, and you smile, wincing briefly when he pulls away from you, laying down on the grassy patch before pulling you close to him. You cover your chest again and lower your skirts before snuggling up to him.

You hug his middle as he wraps his arms around your form, feeling his chest pick up its purring as your eyes grow heavier by the second. Feral watches you slack against him, out like a light. He strokes your hair and rests his jaw on top of your head. He scoffs as he drifts off to sleep himself.

The elders didn’t know shit.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Was thinking about the prince who Hiroki befriends in GOS. How he's not exactly a good person (how can he be with Kakazu and THAT family in his ear), but he's probably not evil either. That despite their influence he did want to stay right by his friend and his idol.

And when his worse side starts to show, Hiroki may be there to talk him down and metaphorically (and one time physically) slap his shit out of him to make him see reason.

And most interestingly...maybe him seeing that in himself the older he gets. He's there for his Hiroki through his worst times; the loss of his daughter, his father's death, and finally his husband dying. He always tried to be there for Hiroki and a decade after they passed, was there to try and encourage Hiroki to try again after their loss, saying they would not have wanted Hiroki to be alone forever, even though Hiroki never let himself have another family. I could see the king not giving up though amd trying to encourage his friend.

(King: Want one of my concubines?

Hiroki: *SLAP!*

King: Ow!)

Meanwhile Hiroki, even after their most venomous disagreements, was still there to heal his the prince's own kids. Administering a cure to his youngest from the same disease that ended Manami's life...

So what if near the end of his life, the king asks Hiroki to be there. Acknowledges all their time together, the good and the bad, and notices that here he is, old, grey and dying, where Hiroki still looks the same as he did when he married his husband. That he the king, will probably be the last one to remember what Hiroki looked like as a kid. He then mentions that if they ever lost Hiroki...his family would probably lose everything. That the kingdom itself would be lost without their local immortal (as that's what he thinks Hiroki is).

So he offers Hiroki one last gift. A ring he keeps on his finger that is usually given to the next in line for the throne, and instead slides it on Hiroki's hand. Telling him no matter what happens, he'll always be a friend to the family. And he hopes his wisdom can help guide his family in the right direction. He asks his oldest (who is seething because HEY THAT'S MY RING!!!) to always mind Hiroki's advice as he will be the oldest and wisest man they know. And to always respect the friendship they have formed.

Him wanting what's best for the royal family, of course, he's still greedy...but also hoping that with the family's eternal friendship, maybe Hiroki won't ever be lonely.

Loving the thought of Kakuzu sitting somewhere all proud of how he's influenced the royal family, only to realize that Rin's kid that she had with Kakashi's 'special mortal' in infecting all of his work with 'goodness' and it's infuriating

he complains about it and Kakashi and Rin just high-five behind him. it may not be a perfect win, but it's a small victory over Kakuzu that they will happily take.

Meanwhile, Hiroki is down there in the mortal realm just being himself, making friends with the reigning prince as if it's nothing. Bringing him little gifts from other lands that have no real monetary value but mean the world to the prince.

that prince growing up to be king with a wall full of those little gifts Hiroki got him growing up. Telling his kids stories of all the advantages Hiroki weaved for him about his adventures when they were growing up.

Hiroki does his best to keep to that promise and actually be able to reign in the royal family for generations until his ultimate death.

Hiroki's death is a genuine mistake maybe. the reigning King sent his knights to retrieve Hiroki for advice, but Hiroki turned them away because his hospital was full, and instead of taking no for an answer they grabbed him. it got violent and in the scuffle, his hair clip broke.

The people think that the statue the royal family made is just a show, but it's genuine on the king's part. He may never have understood why his ancestor wanted Hiroki to lead them, but Hiroki had only ever shown kindness and wisdom and he'd never wanted Hiroki to be killed.

Hiroki's first action as a god being to return to the King's side when his child is sick and heal that child, and maybe getting the chance to tell the King that he didn't blame him specificlly for his death but they need to do better. they need to fix things.

and maybe that king tries but it quickly spirals out of his control and it's not too long before he also passes away, leaving his young child and corrupt officials in charge of the kingdom. So finally, after years of Hiroki having influence and the kingdom maybe getting a little bit better, even if greed is still their main influencer, it crumbles again.

things get so much worse than they'v e ever been and the people are pushed to a point where they can no longer sit back and just survive, resulting in the uprising and the rogue's who find their way into the forest to fight the monarchy from outside the kingdom.

[harveyhawkscripts]

[M4A] The Fortress Titan [DnD and Transformers inspired] [Fantasy] [Character introduction] [Runaway listener]

Google Doc

Usage:

- Okay for monetization

- Please credit me as Harvey Hawk :)

- Tweaks, improv, and pronoun changes are okay! Just please do not rewrite the script completely.

Synopsis: The listener runs away from home and takes shelter in a massive cave. Deep inside the cave, they find a fortress which turns out to house the spirit of the soldier Aurelian. 

Key:

[SFX and Action]

(.) Short Pause

(...) Longer pause

(Voice instruction)

Word count: 1144

—

AURELIAN:

[Robot start-up / maybe gears turning]

(Softly) I am… active? How long have I been…?

(Out loud) Halt! What is your business here? How did you find this place?

(.)

Your voice. Are you a child? What are you doing here, little one?

(.) 

Not a child, but young nonetheless. Too young to be wandering these caves alone.

(.)

I am… I was Aurelian. Now I am no less than the place where you stand. 

(.)

Underground… castle? Not quite. In truth, young one, you stand in a mighty fortress. When you touched that panel, it reactivated me. I have been dormant for… tell me, young one, how long ago was the great Six-Score War?

(.)

I see… Then it has been nearly three hundred years.

(.)

You wonder how I am speaking to you? Understandable. I assume you have never been in a talking fortress before. The truth is, I used to be a person, just as you are.

(.)

You wish to know my story? Very well. But in return, little one, you must tell me what it is you are doing here.

(.)

Very well, then. A long time ago, I was a knight of King Amadeus. Like my father before me, I fought in the Great Six-Score War. And, like my father before me, I had little knowledge of why I was fighting. Though, it seemed no one truly knew what started the war, nor why it continued. It had been going on so long it was as if everyone forgot, and only fought for fighting’s sake.

(.)

Is that what they say…? Hm. And what do you think, little one?

(.)

Yes, greed does seem a more likely explanation. That is what the princess of the time thought, as well.

(.)

The princess was the smartest person in all the kingdom. At least, she was in my experience. And she was… everything to me. We met as children; she would sneak away from her studies and I from my training, and we would walk through the woods together, telling stories and chasing frogs. As I grew older, I fell hopelessly in love. I told myself I would rise above my station for her. I would someday be general, I said, and when that day came, I would ask for her hand. Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Despite my efforts, it was not I who was awarded the title of general, but a close confidant of the king.

The king, having inherited a war, tired of the bloodshed. He called on his wisest scholars and strongest soldiers, on the great blacksmiths, and finally the most powerful sorcerer in the land. The sorcerer was named Casimir and was known for dabbling in dangerous and dark magics.

(.)

You have heard of him? That does not surprise me. He was incredibly famous – or rather, infamous – in my time.

Well, little one, the king gathered these people to come up with a way to end the war. And what they decided on was a weapon – a giant, devastating weapon that towered over the trees. One that could take two forms: that of a fortress, and that of a warrior.

For years, not a blacksmith, stonemason, or carpenter was spared from the grueling task of constructing the titan. Meanwhile, the sorcerer and his scholars searched for a way to magically pilot the behemoth. And lo and behold, they found one.

(.)

What they needed was a soul. A person’s spirit could be used to power the titan, and in theory they could learn how to pilot it. Casimir demanded a soldier give their soul to the titan, particularly the general. However, the king had great love for his general, and insisted instead that another knight take his place. In return, that knight would receive the highest honors as well as any blessing the king could give them.

(.)

Yes, I gave myself up. It was foolish, but… any blessing. I would finally be able to marry my love. I offered my soul to the sorcerer, thinking I would be in control of the Titan, but… Casimir put an additional spell on my being. A spell that took over my very mind and soul.

Unable to control my new body, I was under the sorcerer’s command. I razed villages and claimed land in his name. I could see the utter destruction I wrought but could do nothing to stop it. And when the opposing side was all but decimated, the sorcerer turned me against the king and demanded the throne. When he would not give it…

(.)

I tried to refuse. I was not strong enough. Under Casimir’s control, I destroyed… everything. The king, his army… the princess.

In the chaos, the king’s general was able to slip past my defenses. He slew the sorcerer, and I suddenly found my faculties returned to me. Dazed and horrified, and still bound to this infernal body, I hid here. I remained in my fortress form, dormant, until you entered and reactivated me.

That is my story, little one. But what is yours? What brings you to the caves deep under the mountains?

(...)

Your parents…? I see. So, you are dealing with your own war, then. My sympathies, little one. No one should be driven to run from their home.

(.)

Young one. I have been alone for hundreds of years. Perhaps I wish to make up for the damage I did years ago. Perhaps I cannot stand to see a child alone, as I once was. What I am trying to say is, If you wish to stay here, to find peace, then I will not stop you. However, I still do not have the energy necessary to transform. Nor do I wish to cause harm to this mountain. If you make this place your home, I will be your friend, but I can do little to actively care for you.

(.)

You still wish to stay? Will you be able to procure your own food?

(.)

There is a market nearby. Very well. Consider yourself welcome. I admit, I have never cared for a child before. Well, I suppose if you are old enough to find yourself here, you are old enough to be self-sufficient. Tell me, young one, what is your name?

I welcome you, then, my new friend. I promise I will care for you as best as I can, despite the limits of this body.

(.)

You are welcome, young one. I must thank you, as well. You have not only awoken me, but you were willing to listen to my story.

(.)

Then this will be a fresh start for both of us. From this point forward, I will be your sanctuary. I will tell you stories of old, shield you from the elements, and be a place for you to rest your head. You have my word.

(.)

Welcome home, young one. I hope you will be happy here.

END

[sillygoofyqueer]

Alright, I'll work backwards for this reblog! First of all, sword relations! The legend was, in fact, based in truth! Due to both the blacksmith forging them (another god) and the bond between the three gods (they were besties or siblings, depending on which one is believed more by the public), they have a connection that allows them to sense each other - or, well, it should, but after the spiritual weapons were unbonded from their gods the connection became weak without a power source. This is what stops Xin Mo and E'ming from assisting their bonded with finding Suibian before she is bonded with someone. They, in theory, should have very good relationships with one another and greet each other as equals and friends (or more familial roles, if E'ming is in child form). However...with the plot.........and where Suibian has been...ALRIGHT, I'll stop foreshadowing and move along. The moment Wei Wuxian recovers (because it's not a fic of mine if he isn't irrevocably traumatised in some way), he WILL be getting a job at Hot Topic. Obviously, Binghe and HuaHua are against this because of plot reasons (and because they do see him as baby, they are centuries older than him), he doesn't need to work, they're rich!...But they also know that one can go stir crazy if they don't do something, so they do allow him to start working. But not without properly threatening the manager of the store because feral older brothers moment. Perhaps he helps a certain out-of-his-depth Lan that is supposed to be supporting his older brother (who is going through a Phase™ a little late in his life because isn't that fucking hilarious?) but has no idea how to go about it. I think I'll go the familial route of Xiao Xingchen for the flute. For. Plot reasons. I can't explain more. :D The dynamic shift definitely is big - mainly because (through Luo Binghe strong arming it), Hua Cheng does eventually come to terms with not treating E'ming harshly because of how he was treated. Some people are just monsters, it wouldn't be fair to blame the sword that he had willingly given the eye in return for power. Thank god for it as well, because after that it's utter chaos for them - they DO have a sibling relationship and it's either "fine, you're a child, play these games on my phone while I pick you up and throw you around" or "you're a teenager, I'm going to tackle you and we're going to fight. Affectionately." Most of the time, E'ming follows the social norms for his age, but sometimes he says the wisest thing in his child form and everyone reacts appropriately (except Hua Cheng, who just sighs and tells him that he isn't being normal). I don't want to blab too much about relationships so...tell me what you think is happening with their husbandos!! It's fun to listen to you think aloud. RIGHT, answering the finding weapons question - spiritual weapons have certain levels of sentience, so it depends on their preference! Some legends are extremely well known and their spiritual weapons have been found but wait for their bonded, so can be considered tourist attractions - take, the sword in the stone for example. This is what Xin Mo was. Other spiritual weapons do rely on destiny and are hidden, waiting to be unearthed. Some...some don't get a choice in the matter. Forcefully hidden, or put on display, or simply unable to communicate their desires, it is not a fate any spiritual sword wishes for.

(@weirdocat83's tags to this post) LUNA. YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME. FGRGGRGHOHGROHGROGHROGH LET'S DO THIS.

Okay, so, I don't think it's going to be a reincarnation au in a sense, but, uh, the spirits of the swords search for what could be classed as a 'replacement' for their divine wielders? So, take Xin Mo for example. His previous wielder could be labelled as a god of war, one who craved bloodshed and spent most of their time on the battlefield - so, Xin Mo's spirit naturally searched for a more hostile soul that was similar to the god's soul, because it was easier for the spirit to...bond? with the soul compared to if the spirit had to edit itself to bond with a more peaceful soul. It found the link with Binghe's (Bingge's?) soul because the guy just wanted to be powerful, and it's easiest to gain power through bloodshed - meaning that Xin Mo's spirit could probably "edit" certain parts of Binghe to fit its basic needs (a lot less predatory than in canon), and then "edit" certain parts of itself so that the bond was less hard to maintain. This would be things like recognising and becoming more calm and less bloodthirsty than it can afford to be due to the fact that Binghe is likely to only be on the battlefield if it's necessary for power - unlike the divine wielder, who had battled for entertainment (not to say that Binghe doesn't revel in a good battle, whether due to Xin Mo's influence or just general satisfaction). I feel like the gods do still exist in the divine realm, but they're a lot quieter and aren't really worshipped by the vast majority anymore (think how secularisation has affected modern society), some even disappearing because they simply didn't have enough worshippers or drive to sustain themselves after the purging of their temples - their lives, if you will. Spiritual weapons still exist in the modern times (this is a modern au, in a sense), still wielded by only a choice few (often granting them immortality as long as they held a strong bond), so people know that gods existed at one point, but most believe that all gods did die in the purging. Obviously, part of why the Three Swords are so unique in their legend is because they require a sacrifice in order to be wielded (connected to how their gods had such strong bonds with their swords that they practically sealed themselves until they could find a worthy replacement), whereas most spiritual weapons merely require respect and devotion because their bonds weren't as wholly consuming as the Three Swords' - if that makes sense? Wei Wuxian's sword will be Suibian, I think. Mainly because there is always a lot of emphasis on Chenqing and, don't get me wrong, I love that little fuckin' flute but Suibian my beloved sword. We don't quite know how sword spirits work in MDZS, so I wanna give them some spotlight in this AU! They deserve it!! Suibian definitely had the most protective/familial bond with her previous owner and (I'm not going to blab about the circumstances or anything of Wei Wuxian finding Suibian but) when she hears such a desperate cry for help from what is practically a teen who obviously has no other support, she can't help it! She's always been the most fair of the Three Swords, but she's still picky when it comes to her owner - they must have good, honest intentions to wield her, and nobody ever does (there's always, even a subconscious, ulterior motive outside of protection. Well, kind of). It's hard to yap about without spilling about Wei Wuxian because I do want to write this and I'm not one to drop secrets before I've even got a first chapter drafted. I would yap about the red/black interactions but this post is already pretty big so- PLEASE ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS, IT'S HELPING ME WORLD BUILD AND I AM A FAN OF TALKING ABOUT MY BRAIN WORMS!!

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : dazed, dumbfounded, and left speechless

as the yashiro commissioner, he’s gotten wildly familiar with folks toadying him to be in his good graces; their actions were irksome and unneeded. what was there to gain? out of the three organizations, truthfully, the wisest to target is the kanjou commission. what were these parasites yearning to gain from him anyway?

it was pitiful.

perhaps it was plain irrationality, albeit, it has grown to be a roadblack for him. it made it troublesome to socialize without the tiny voice in his head whispering that they were around him for personal gain. after keeping to himself for so long, he sought comfort in you, his advisor. if any nobel were to see him now, they’d throw a hissy fit that he, a man of status, is mingling with his aide outside of a professional setting.

ayato didn't ask for a lot, just for you to keep him company during the small window of time he had. he was unlike most nobles who impose that people only speak when spoken to, he urged you to converse freely with him. it was unsaid, but he loves listening to you chat about your day, to you relay the latest tattle in town, to you ramble about your interests. he’d never say it, believing it’d be inappropriate considering your relationship as employer and employer. moreover, he’d never want to discomfit you.

the laughable part about it is that you didn’t share the same concern as him. you talk and interact with him like you both were co-equals.

your easygoing personality was charming in his eyes, it also amused him. to hear you speak to him like he was any other person and not the kamisato ayato, not the older brother of the shirasagi himegimi, not the head of the kamisato clan, and not the yashiro commissioner was refreshing to hear. in your perspective, he was ayato and you just happen to work  for him.

maybe that's why he gravitated towards you… you provided him what he needed the most — a sense of mundanity in his hectic life.

however, the atmosphere of the still night is about to testify how comfortable you've become in his company, especially with the presence of alcohol involved. it was nothing serious. you were informed that the sake he ordered arrived and he proposed to drink after a grueling week. unluckily for him, he now had to deal with your drunken babbling.

“do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

what.

the air carried a heavy and dramatic silence and you had no concern for it, proceeding to slur, “there’s no need to act coy, my lord. i have an inkling that you’re aware of your own attractiveness. you are one of the most coveted bachelor of inazuma!”

ayato didn't know what to make of it. is this a sly confession that you find him attractive too? or is this plain ol’ inebriated  gibberish? he needed to know. he beseech, “am i? i was not aware of this consensus.”

you let loose a tired sigh, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “nearly every woman i see swoons under your presence. it’s discomforting as it was humorous to watch them struggle to hide their evident interest in you.” you take an annoyingly long sip of your drink, then follow up by saying, “can’t say i blame them… you are beautiful.”

he feels his heart skip a beat. “what are you trying to imply, my dear?”

overlooking your tipsy state, you were still dumbfounded. it was the very first time you were given a genuine reaction. it was nerve-wracking to finally be in this situation. you were experiencing an arduous time ignoring his fixated gaze. and although you did act bold earlier, you didn’t want him to know of your true desires. what would this say? poor, naive advisor falls for her boss because he showed her with basic kindness.

“what’s your guess, commissioner?”

his mouth was dry.

he was breathless.

it was the perfect time and setting to take his chance yet he didn’t. he was too captivated with how you appear under the moonlight to care about it now — you are glowing. with the additional flush given from the alcohol, you were radiant and it made his mind go blank. he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. my, did you leave him at a loss for words.

you would've much rather woken up to your incessant alarm ringing obnoxiously than to the loud and rapid knockings on your front door paired with panicked begs. the color drains out of your face once the news sunk of your lover’s accident on duty. you had half a mind to properly suit yourself for the freezing weather when you pester them to escort you to the medic site.

tears welled your eyes and you did your best to control your composure in front of his lackeys. he always told you that people in his world pounced on any person who revealed an crumb of weakness, hence, you did what you can to salvage your poise and persisted until they left you in his tent.

scaramouche lied in his cot, awake and reading a novel as a pastime. his lip was busted and there laid crusts of dried blood along his hairline. from what his patient gown shown, bandages covers his chest and upper left arm. although the gauze was freshly wrapped, you could tell the wounds were deep based on his subtle wincing whenever he moved.

the tears that glisten your eyes trail down your cheeks when you took in the sight of him.

you were unsure if you wanted to cry since he was in pain or smile that he was alive. in a different occasion, you might’ve teased him for finally reading the novel you gifted him. anyhow, all you muster to do was kneel by his cot and cry in his lap. what if childe hadn’t found him laying at the bottom of the mountain, bleeding and half-unconscious? he wouldn’t be here with you, and this single-handedly repeats in your mind.

“get a hold of yourself, woman — what’s gotten into you?” he sneers. howbeit irritated he sounds, you knew it was just a front due to the way he delicately plays with your hair to calm you down.

you stare up at him, all doe-eyed. your lashes wet from your tears and nose sniffling. you look like a mad woman. any other individual would’ve felt petrified to stand close during this moment. you appear to be at the cusp of a big, nervous breakdown.

“what is wrong with me?!” you reiterate, almost screeching at him in disbelief, “i was worried something bad happened to you, something irreversible!”

you were worried about him? scaramouche mulls it over, as the tip of his ears turn pink. he was thankful that he brought his novel with him or else he wouldn’t have a way to hide his face. he softly grumbles, “you’re being dramatic.”

“‘m not!” you whimper. frankly, he couldn’t understand your incoherent ramblings. but from what he could interpret, you were scolding him for behaving recklessly and getting himself hurt. “do you not see how worried i am? i was so, so scared when they told me what happened to you!”

you would’ve continue to fuss his ear off if he hadn’t set his hand on your shoulder and pull you towards him. he was by your neck, his lips were practically pressing against your skin as he whispers, “shut up — do you want the entire site to hear your manic ramblings?”

you shook your head.

“good,” scaramouche praises. “now stop fretting… i’m fine.”

you gape at him in horror. “y–you can’t tell me that it’s fine! you nearly died! how is that fine?!” before you utter another word, you catch him suck in a harsh breath. you paled. “are you in pain?” and your eyes trail over him to find what cause his reaction.

“i said it’s nothing.” he promptly pushes you away as if your touch burns him. “i’m serious; i’m fine, just… sore.”

“but what if it’s serious? wait, i’ll call a medic.”

“you’re obsessed! i told you it’s not serious, why are you so persistent?!”

“because i love you! i love you and you’re in pain,” you say in fervor, and it left him stupefied to see you lose your temper. ultimately, you were unfailingly patient with him every time. “seeing you like this hurts me, it scares me because what if i lose you?”

he looks down and away from you. “you won’t.”

“you don’t know that,” you snap, causing him to bite back a smirk at your fiesty attitude, “you either let me find a medic to check on you, or we wait for you to be in more pain — the choice is yours.”

you knew you had won when he remained noticeably silent. with a kiss to his cheek, you stand up and exit. he retrieves the discarded novel on his lap to follow up his light reading. unbeknownst to you, hiding behind its pages, the corner of his lips quirk up.

[goldenfharry]

🌌For those panicking, you do realize that his first pap pics weren’t with just anyone, but with his manager and someone who the fandom knows and considers to be like a mentor AND older brother to Harry.

If the first pics AFTER all of this were with OW, then your panicking and frustration would be justified, as it would send the message “We don’t care. It’s us against the world”, that Holivians believe to be Holivia’s creed and anthem.

No it was ONLY Harry and Jeff, with Jeff feigning exhaustion and Harry looking a specific way. Evenmore the walking? If that’s not a cliché Mufasa “remember who you are” narrative, I don’t know what is.

Harry WILL come out as the villain, irregardless. But his team are trying to minimize the impact to his already damaged image.

Olivia’s will switch the narratives, and vilify him using all of his past active participation pics, videos, and articles to absolve herself from accountability and play the “helpless woman who was seduced and in a hypnotizing simulation Harry casted on her.”

His team, however, are trying to find ways to lessen how severely his image would be ruined and to be able to be easily repaired afterwards.

If he isolated himself from Olivia, as most of you want then, Olivia’s claims of him being a “sexist heartless pig who only manipulated her and exploited her for his own gain” would be validated.

If he was seen with her IMMEDIATELY AFTERWARDS, then the claims of him being “a complete stupid asshole, absent of a conscious, who has no problem home wrecking a family” would be confirmed.

That’s why Jeff was the first person they decided he would be seen with. It’s to send the message “The long time friend whom Harry loves as if he was his own soul and knows the real Harry was being that voice of reason and guiding into making the wisest choice in how to handle the matter.” Meaning they had a deep conversation that would “awaken Harry to come to his senses”.

I don’t doubt that Olivia and him will/have been seen. In fact. I am EXPECTING IT. This is the post MeToo era, where corrupt women have infiltrated something originally designed to be pure, virtuous and empowering and weaponized it for their own selfish gain. Olivia’s obsession with sexism and feminism are her shields, armored in false virtue, to manipulate and intimidate men into doing what she wants, as they’re terrified of the pitchforks and axes the mobs, comprised of those ignorant of the true meaning of those words, will take up against them in retaliation.

Harry’s image is already damaged with this but to add on top of it the stain of sexism and, potentially, abusers… the next time you’ll see him perform would at some ruin down lounge. He WOULD lose work, as no one would want to be associated with someone with those titles, even if they are fabricated. *cough* Johnny depp *cough*.

Is it a poor decision to be seen with her? Obviously. There are better alternatives to be chosen that I won’t list, as I don’t want to give them anymore ideas. If his team is as smart as they’ve claimed, then they can easily figure these options out themselves. But most celebs are stupid. You all are just now seeing a speck of the stupidity that curated and manufactured narratives can’t camouflage.

Him and her being seen AFTER the hike with his friend who brought him to his senses is the next step to send the narrative “they discussed the situation, deciding soon after wards to part ways so that Olivia could focus on being what she feels is her most important job and privilege she has- a mother.” 🤨

Lastly to add; how strange just a week ago Holivia had lost complete interest within being the fandom AND GP. Most people not, even, paying attention to Coachella. Yet, now that interest has been reestablished and amplified in just seven days with fans and the GP talking about them and anticipating their next moves just as if this was January 2021. Think about that.

Okay, you can’t receive a message clearer than this. It has all explained, detailed and in a very smart way. If you still panic after this, well, it’s your choice. Seems very clear to me and it’s not even my native language lol

Thank you very much, lovely 🌌 anon 💛

[qilingxiong]

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about an older Jiang Cheng. Older than canon, old enough that there are faint lines at the corners of his eyes, and occasional streaks of silver in his hair that catch the sunlight, but his body still bears all the strength of his golden core. I don’t know what that would make his exact age in cultivator time, but the pride with which he holds himself is now deserved rather than arrogant. He pushed the Yunmeng Jiang to its fullest potential since its inception, and those years of of work and rebuilding are already decades past. Now, the Jiang are a sect comparable to Lanling Jin, in strength if not wealth, and Jiang Cheng is known as one of the greatest sect leaders in recent memory. His title as the slayer of the Yiling Patriarch is merely a footnote in his story, and he is happy to relinquish it.

A-Ling is taller than Jiang Cheng now. Jin Rulan’s name is also in the history books, as the man (not the boy anymore, Jiang Cheng has to remind himself) who broke the generational cycle of corruption in Lanling and restored it to its true glory. Jiang Cheng is no longer referred to as his overbearing jiujiu, but Jin Ling’s wisest counsel who watched and selflessly helped build a better future for a sect that wasn’t his own. Jin Ling is as incredible a legacy as A-Jie and Jin Zixuan could have hoped for, and every time Jiang Cheng sees his nephew he hopes they know it, wherever they are. 

And Wei Wuxian still laughs and runs circles around both his shidi and his husband, even the younger man’s body he’s been stuffed into barely able to contain his energy. He’s cultivated Mo Xuanyu’s core, not as strong as the one that sits inside Jiang Cheng, but enough for any outstanding cultivator. Jiang Cheng stopped trying to catch up with him, a long time ago. Wei Wuxian is a thread weaving himself in and out of Jiang Cheng’s life, but ultimately their paths are slightly different and as long as he’s there somewhere and not dead or disappeared, that’s all he can ask for. Both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian alternate between staying in Yunmeng and Gusu at different times of year. It’s enough.

People still look at Jiang Cheng sometimes, and wonder why a man like him never wed or even took a partner to live with him at Lotus Pier. It never mattered. He has his most senior disciples trained to split his duties if that fateful day comes, people he trusts to take his place. And not being in love does not mean not having a family- he has all of the Jiang, initially bound together by the suffering of the Sunshot Campaign and now by respect and prosperity, and he has A-Ling, and even though Jiang Cheng will never fully understand him, he has his brother. It’s all he needs to carry on, until the day he goes down swinging and ascends to whatever comes next. 

After all this time, he’s finally at peace with his life and all the people around. Let him have that.

[markosmate]

lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au://  Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy. 

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly. 

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom. 

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

-

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.

[sapphirelass]

Deal? - Remus LupinxDaughter!Reader

Hi! :)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3) 

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

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

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

You probably already knew this, but still XD

(Y/N) - Your name

(Y/N/N) - Your nickname

(Y/H/L) - Your hair length

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

I swear, my next story won’t be about Umbridge XD

Word count: ≈ 2300

Warnings: Umbridge, angst, slight swearing

Enjoy!

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

“I do not wish to criticise the ways of the school, however you have been exposed to some rather irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention” the toadlike professor threw a dark glance at a sandy haired student and smirked evilly, “extremely dangerous half breeds”.

The student in question raised her hand angrily, and glared at Professor Umbridge. “Yes?” the teacher smiled sweetly, “miss… Lupin, am I correct?”

“Yes, (Y/N)!” she began, “but that’s besides the point. Look, I know what you’re doing, but Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher we’ve ever had, and I’d be more than happy to bet everything I own on that being quite a common opinion in this classroom!”

Most of her fellow classmates nodded furiously, and the young girl turned her head towards her professor, who immediately cleared her throat and declared: “Well, I’m afraid simply being a beloved teacher doesn’t really matter, dear.  Werewolves are still extremely dangerous creatures. They are beasts that are undeserving of respect and that should not be allowed to be part of our fine wizard community. They are uncontrollable, and highly likely to injure or possibly kill young witches and wizards, including their own children.”

She flashed a cruel, yet pleased, smirk as (Y/N) furiously stood up, despite Hermione desperately trying to force her down.

“You have NO IDEA what you’re talking about!?” she whispered angrily, her nails digging into her palms as her fists clenched. “You have probably never even met one of these so called ‘half breeds’, have you? No, you were most likely just told some bizarre stories containing more lies and made up facts than truths, and decided to put that worthless ‘knowledge’ - if you can even call it that - to use by spreading rumors and destroying the lives of innocent people.”

Umbridge looked frantic, and was about to speak up, but (Y/N) got there first. “I despise people who look down on others. People who claim to be better than everyone else. People like you. You certainly don’t deserve respect!”

She took a deep breath, and was about to continue when Umbridge’s shrill voice forced her to stay quiet. “That’s quite enough! Detention, miss Lupin. The rest of the week, five fifteen, don’t be late”.

***

A few hours later, (Y/N) made her way back to Umbridge’s office. She knew her friends had wanted to talk to her, but she had done her absolute best to avoid them all afternoon. She simply didn’t feel like explaining to them why she had done what she did. She’d gladly do it again though. Her father was the kindest, wisest, most incredible person she had ever met. He had done everything in his power to give her a good childhood, and no one had the right to insult him. She’d defend him to her last breath if that’s what it would come down to.

She knocked on the door carefully, and pushed it open when she heard a shrill, terrifying voice sing a sweet “come in”.

“Oh, miss Lupin, almost late I see!” she said arrogantly. (Y/N) didn’t have time to answer before her teacher continued. “Sit down.”

***

The detentions went on for another four days before Umbridge told her she didn’t have to come back the following evening, but that she better hold her tongue unless she longed for more. (Y/N) tried to keep that in mind, but still lost her cool a few more times before the end of the semester. However, the Christmas holidays were approaching, and though her red, swollen hand caused her to worry slightly, the idea of seeing her dad and godfather caused her enough joy to tip her mood over to “mainly happy”.

She stepped off the train with her friends, and immediately spotted her father on the platform.

“Dad!!” she shouted, and threw her scratched arms around his constantly scarred torso. “Merlin, I’ve missed you so much”. She buried her head in his shoulder, simply enjoying the feeling of love and safety that he somehow instantly gave off.

“Hello, darling!” he said gently, returning the bone-crushing hug. “I missed you too, believe me…”

(Y/N) wanted to stay like that forever, but eventually let go as she intended to at least try to keep her… problems… hidden. She had never really been able to keep secrets from her dad, and therefore didn’t want to do anything he would consider “out of the ordinary”. If she did, he’d figure it out, or persuade her to tell him everything within minutes, and she knew he’d feel guilty if he realized what she had done for him. She understood perfectly well that the scars on her hand were deep enough to be visible for the rest of her life, and that nothing she would say could convince Remus Lupin that it was not his fault. She was left with one option: He could not, under any circumstances, know. Ever.

They carried her trunk together, and walked a few feet behind the rest of the gang.

“So?”, her father inquired, “How are things? You all doing okay?”

“I suppose”, she answered, “Our new DADA teacher is quite a daft prick though.”

“(Y/N/N)!”, he muttered sternly, casually trying to hide a smile, “Are you sure that’s the right word? Sounds rather rough, doesn’t it?”

The witch shrugged. “No, I think it fits rather nicely. It’s almost as if she’s trying her very best to prevent us from learning anything helpful…”

“That’s… well, that doesn’t sound very promising, does it?”

“No, hence the slightly offensive description… But enough about her, how are you? Had any company while I was gone?”

The older wizard smiled, easily noticing the tone of his daughter’s voice switch into a far more joyful, energetic one - One he knew and loved!

“Oh yes, I’ve spent quite a bit of time at headquarters, and Sirius essentially isn’t allowed anywhere else, so we’ve done a lot of catching up. There is, believe it or not, a lot to talk about after 12 years without seeing each other, so it’s been very nice.” He turned to her, smiled even broader and added a quick “But I’ve still missed you.”, before quickening his pace to catch up with the others.

***

Later that night, (Y/N), Remus, Harry and Sirius were sat in the living room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry and Sirius were playing catch with an old snitch they had found in the house, lazily throwing it back and forth. (Y/N) lay on a sofa, a thick leather bound book tightly clutched in her hands and her head resting on her fathers lap. He was deeply invested in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, and father and daughter were simply enjoying a nice, calm evening.

All of a sudden, Sirius grabbed the snitch, sat up straight and reached out towards his godson.

“Harry, what’s that on your hand?”

The dark haired boy pulled the sleeves of his jumper further down and mumbled a quiet “nothing”.

“Sure, let me see then”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry abo…”

Harry didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, as Sirius had risen from his seat and forcefully grabbed his left hand. The slightly faded “I must not tell lies” was still readable, and Harry winced as the look on his godfather’s face went from composed to furious in a matter of seconds.

“Who?”

“Sirius, I…”

“WHO?!”

By this time, both Remus and (Y/N) had put their books down, and were carefully observing the “argument”.

“It’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Umbridge. She’s quite generous when it comes to giving detentions. But mine’s really not that bad now. It barely hurts anymore…”

“That’s totally barbaric!? Moony, we have to…”

“Harry”, Remus interrupted his old friend with a worried look on his face, “What do you mean by ‘quite generous’?”

His heart practically skipped a beat when he felt his daughter shift uncomfortably, however it was Harry who answered.

“‘m quite sure half the Gryffindors have been to her office at least once by now. Even when you’re not really doing anything wrong, she’ll make up a ‘reasonable’ excuse…”

As Harry spoke, (Y/N) had unconsciously been pulling the sleeves of her jumper closer to her fingertips. Remus obviously noticed and made eye contact with Harry, nodding discreetly towards his daughter as if to ask if she too had… well… yeah? Harry closed his eyes, knowing full well how his friend wanted to hide her scars from her dad. It had taken hours of convincing before she had even let him, Ron and Hermione see, and he understood why she didn’t want Lupin to know. He did, however, not like the idea of lying to his former professor, and nodded slightly.

Remus closed his eyes looking simultaneously sad and angered, sat up straight and muttered “(Y/N/N)?”

The young witch took a deep breath and was about to move away from her dad, but he was faster and quickly grabbed her hand. He was very gentle, but she flinched anyways, as her last detention had taken place only a week prior.

“(Y/N/N)”, he repeated, “show me”

“Dad”, she mumbled quietly, “‘tis fine, don’t worry”

“(Y/N)!” His voice sounded far sterner now, “I’m serious. C’mere”

“No, I don’t want…”

“It’s not a question of whether or not you want to, Love”, Sirius explained before his friend could think of a response. “Show your dad.”

“But…”

“(Y/N/N)”, Harry mumbled, “Just… just do it”

“No! I can handle it! Stop making it sound like I’m too weak to do so!”

She felt a tear escape her eye, and stood up to leave the room when Remus waved his wand and locked the door.

Taking yet another deep breath, his daughter turned around, made her way across the room, pulled her left sleeve up and slammed her scarred hand down on the table for the other three to see.

“There! You happy now?!”

A flood of tears were streaming down her face, as her dad, godfather and best friend leant closer and read seven deep-red, awful, heart wrenching words:

***

I must not defend filthy half breeds

***

Remus put his head in his hands and stood up, while Sirius moved closer to his goddaughter and pulled her into a tight hug. Harry joined the embrace and comfortingly rubbed her back.

“why? Why (Y/N/N)?”, her father whispered quietly, his voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t…She… sorry…”

The usually calm, collected girl was completely lost for words. Shaking. She had no clue what to say, all she knew was that she had to let her dad know that she was sorry. Sorry for making him feel guilty. Sorry for causing him so much pain. Sorry for not being strong enough.

She walked over to him and noticed heavy, wet tears on his face too. Carefully she wrapped her arms around him, and together they sank down onto the cold floor. They sat there for what felt like hours before Remus finally spoke up, repeating his previous question.

“Why, darling?”

She met his sad gaze and collected her thoughts before quietly whispering “She keeps saying horrible things - pure lies - and she’s enjoying it. She’s throwing insults my way every chance she gets. If I don’t stand up and fight, everyone will think she’s right, and she’s not. Nothing will ever change unless someone works for it, and as soon as that someone backs down, they’ve lost. I’m not having that.”

He looks back at her, his eyes full of pride. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You mean besides being the most phenomenal dad imaginable?”

He chuckled softly, ruffled her (Y/H/L) hair and held his hand out. (Y/N) slowly placed her hand on her father’s and shifted her gaze towards the floor as he examined the neatly written letters. With a worried expression on his face, he grabbed his wand and moved it back and forth over the scars while quietly muttering a few carefully chosen words. The pain immediately became more endurable, and after putting his wand away the older wizard grabbed his daughter’s shoulders gently, and looked at her in a sad, yet determined way.

“(Y/N/N), as honourable as your intentions are, please don’t do this for me. I’m not going to tell you to back down, but if you’re going to keep it up, don’t let it…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting injured because of me. I’m not wo…”

“Yes, you are! Stop saying that! I’ll be a bit more selective, if that’s what you want, but don’t you dare tell me not to fight for you. You are my dad, my only family, and there is not a single person on this planet less deserving of disrespect, insults and hate. Dad, you’re amazing, and I’m not letting her fool people into thinking you’re not.”

After a moment of silence, a quiet, “I still don’t like it…”, escaped his lips.

“I know.” She sighed, “That’s why I originally didn’t plan on telling you.”

(Y/N) was fiddling with her fingers, not quite meeting her fathers warm gaze, when she suddenly sat up and said, “Let’s make a deal? I promise to choose my fights more wisely, and in return, you won’t blame yourself for the consequences of said choices? Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

Her father sighed, but reluctantly answered, “Fine, as long as you promise me one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t hide scars or pain from me ever again, no matter whether it’s physical or mental, okay? You’ll let me know, and let me help, always!”

She held her right hand out, her dad shook it and they shared a smile. This time, a true, pure one that actually reached their identically green eyes.

“Deal!”

~ L

Part 2 Oh, darling...

Masterlist

[delu-jean]

hi! so I just wanted to send in an Erwin x reader ask where basically Erwin survive shiganshina and they basically end up becoming parental figures for historia and guide her. thanks!

𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚)

(Erwin x fem!/reader) -> Mentions of Historia! -> Fluff -> 1.6k 

Request: hi! so I just wanted to send in an Erwin x reader ask where basically Erwin survive shiganshina and they basically end up becoming parental figures for historia and guide her. thanks!

Notes: After the interaction the two had (somewhere in season three), I literally head cannoned him being her father! The chemistry between the two would be so sweet if they were!! The concept for this request was so adorable!! Thanks for the request, and enjoy! ^^

“We did it...we have the colossal now,” you’d say, knees shaking after all of the casualties. Erwin then caught you. Seeing how shocked you were, he tried to calm you down the best he could. 

“Yes Y/n...we did...but at a great cost.”

“Was it really one worth all of this trouble?” You said being unsure with such a loss. 

“Of course it was. For the sake of humanity.” 

“Right...for the sake of Humanity.” 

---

Many had died during the mission to Shiganshina. A lot of your comrades lost, along with your dearest friends. You mourned over such a thing, but ultimately, were glad for the ones who had survived. Levi, Hange, your dearest and most closest friends, still breathing as you spoke. And Erwin, your lover for gosh knows how long. Even after the stunt that was pulled, he still managed to survive. You were relieved that such a chaotic man...had escaped such a brutal mess. 

You were also glad that he saw what he had eagerly wanted to see. The basement that Eren had the key to. After hearing about some vague details from the commander, along with the other four who had entered, it gave you a mix of emotions. Both ecstatic to know there was more out there, yet terrified that such things were most likely forgein obstacles. Ones that would be hard to get rid of. 

Regardless, you were now heading back. Delivering both the books, along with yourselves, and whatever else you had left. At the entrance of wall Sina, there you see Historia waiting. She seemed ecstatic yet composed when greeting you all. And when seeing both you and Erwin, she seemed even more pleased. 

You see, even though Historia had her own birth parents, they never felt like her actual ones (based on the tragedies they caused). She’d been neglected...never feeling like she had someone to look up to. But when entering the Survey Corps, though it took a while to warm up to you, she ultimately did. It wasn’t that she couldn’t talk to you, rather, it took some time for her to see you as a mother figure. 

You were maybe 15 years older than her, but even that being the case, you saw her as your own. Though she wasn’t calling you “mom,” nor were you calling her “your daughter,” you both had the relationship. Labels weren’t needed to understand such a thing. 

Since she grew up without the affection of her mom, she took your affection very seriously. She was thankful to say the least. Thankful for the nights you would console her, give her advice, and hear her out. Though Ymir had done the same, the difference was that you spoke the words of a mother. Erwin had also come around to this concept, and tried getting to know Historia on a more personal level. 

He saw how attached you were to such an extraordinary girl. That being the case, he too wanted to experience the joy you two shared. You of course encouraged such a thing, and therefore, he did his best when getting to know her. It was a good practice for him since for most (if not all of ) his soldiers, he considered them pawns. So that being the case, you took this as an opportunity for him to think otherwise. 

Another reason as to why Erwin was doing this, was because of his own personal experience. Though he did have his father, he was (eventually) taken away from him at a young age. He didn’t want Historia to go astray like he did in his teenage years. So, he tried building a connection. Hoping his input could help her in the best way. 

Though it wasn’t as easy going compared to the both of you, he did his best, and she appreciated the effort put in. He’d usually have conversations with her about life. The most simple, yet complicated philosophy out there. Maybe he would even pop in his childhood memories, and theories he had. Truly making the most of their time. And she enjoyed their interactions. You adored how close the two were. Though one was more tense than the other, the affection was clearly there. Just seeing them together, made you wonder as to how Erwin would be with his own children. Possibly yours if we’re being specific. 

Erwin then approached the girl on his steed. Bowing to the queen to be, along with the rest of you. 

“Princess Historia, we made many discoveries during our mission. Ones that we can discuss privately whenever it is to your liking,” Erwin said, composed with a respectful tone. 

“Of course Commander. Before we do, I think you could all rest. It’ll be best if you do, after all...it seems as if you could use it,” she took note of the lack of numbers, but decided not to bring it up. 

“Of course,” Erwin agreed and everyone left. Well...except the both of you. Hirstoria then invited you both into the castle. The three of you sat in a room, the two of you on one couch, while she sat on the other. Face to face as she took a sip of tea. 

“Forget about formalities, I’m glad you’re both alive,” she smiled and you did the same. 

“I don’t think it’s appropriate if we do...after all, you will be the Queen soon.” 

“Nonsense. Even when that does happen, nothing will change between the three of us.” 

“I guess not,” Erwin chuckled as she sighed in relief. 

“Now that that’s over with, let’s discuss the details over your findings.” 

“Sounds good, Queen Historia.” 

“Oh stop it Y/n,” she pestered as you giggled. 

“So, Historia…”

Erwin then went on about their findings. How there was an entire civilization across from them, how you all were subjects of Ymir, about the nine titans, and whatever else they had left to say. He seemed stern during his conversation, not only that, but you could sound the passion which rang through his words. He looked somewhat relieved that he saw such an extraordinary finding. Not only was it one step closer to saving humanity, but one step closer to fulfilling both his wants, and needs. 

You didn’t know what you would have done if he hadn’t made it out alive. The guilt of him not being able to see such a sight, nor Historia...would’ve crushed you if anything. You know that the both of you would have missed him dearly...and if anything, she would have felt responsible for his death. Something that was never predicted, yet under the control of the Scout regiment. A power that she had ruled over. 

Though this thought lingered, it was one that had not come true. And hopefully, things would stay that way. He was here with you. Safe and sound. Maybe a little bruised but hey, handsome either way. You then put your head on his shoulder, caressing his thumb. Though he tried keeping composure, he eventually gave in. Relaxing his body while in the warmth of your touch. 

“I see, interesting…” she nod to then say:

“Erwin, Y/n, you know how much I love the both of you. Because of that...when I do become queen...please don’t let our dynamic change. I find comfort in it, and hope that we can continue to have the relations set.” 

To your surprise, Erwin spoke first. His eyes soft, and his speech gentle. Staring at the young girl before him, who was now becoming an adult. 

“Of course. If that is what the Queen allows, I’ll be sure to do my part. For both humanity, but importantly, you Historia,” you then placed your own cup down, accompanying Erwin: 

“I agree. Of course, our manners will have to prosper when needed...but if we’re alone, or even if we’re not, feel free to come to either of us. We’ll care for you no matter what, okay?” she teared up a bit and then walked to the both of you. You both stood up, and grasped her. The mood felt both joyful, yet teary. 

“I’m glad you both made it. Please be careful out there,” Erwin, though reluctant, then placed a hand (A/n: the only one-) on her head. 

“Don’t worry, you can count on us, your majesty.” 

‘Ah my little girl...so grown and mature,’ she tightened her grip on your torso, as your arms were still wrapped around her.

“Yes...don’t worry. You can most definitely count on us.” 

---

As time progressed Historia got crowned. That being the case, she had more responsibilities on hand. Constantly working her hardest to help her people. You were glad to see such a young person blossom into such a strong woman. Though she did most things on her own, you and Erwin guided her when possible. Even when it came to the little things like if her drapes should be red, or green. 

There would also be moments where it was just the three of you, or you two alone. Now that she was queen, her time was of value. So you tried to spend it in the wisest way possible. Talking about politics could wait, those were the times where you all could express things heart to heart. Being honest about how she felt, versus how things ran. Expressing her love for the people she rules, and even the deep thoughts that kept her up at night. 

Both Erwin and you did your best to guide her through these emotions. Wanting to teach her both politically, and most importantly, emotionally. Prepping her for the duties she would have as both Queen, and herself. Raising her to be the person she wanted to be, and supporting her to the utmost of your abilities. 

“I think I understand now, what we have to do against Marely. Though it is just one step, it’s one step closer to saving the people of Ymir.” 

“Yes, yes it is...Historia,” Erwin said as he held your hand. 

“It definitely is...Historia.” 

[writerfae]

Hello I have a new oc and I’m obsessed with him

Short info: he’s a seer that lived long before the story takes place. Kian is said to be the mightiest seer the fae ever encountered. It was him who hid the Alderking’s regalia for the fae.

I briefly mentioned him before in this post

*

Kian was a human, born in a small village in a time where the lines between the two worlds were still blurry.

His village was not familiar with the concept of a seer, since those were rare.

Especially those who are fully human.

Most of the more powerful seer throughout history were half-fae, because their origin strengthened their power and made them more mighty.

But Kian was mighty even though there was no faerie blood in his veins.

Like every seer before and after him, he was already born with his abilities and so it happened that all throughout his childhood, there were occurrences where his powers showed, scaring the people around him.

He saw things no one else saw, spoke to people that weren’t there and sometimes had strange visions.

There were cases where he told people things that became true in the future or knew things of their past they never told anyone.

He once even predicted a bad harvest and the death of another boy from the village that both happened.

It left the villagers uneasy and alarmed, but it unsettled no one more than his parents.

They did not understand the power their child was blessed with and they didn’t know what to do.

The child’s strange behavior seemed to them like a curse on their family and they were ashamed and, most of all, scared.

So one day, Kian was not much older than six, they send him away.

Left behind in the woods to fend for himself, he wandered deep into the forest, lost.

When nighttime came, Kian had an encounter that would change his life forever.

A magical white stag came to him and it took the boy with it to the other world, the faerie realm.

It led him to a group of fae, wandering wise men and women, who recognized the boy as a strong seer and took him in, raising him to become the wisest of them all.

From that day on Kian was taught everything his mentors knew and he learned what he was, what powers he truly possessed and how he could use them.

He traveled through the whole faerie world, following the lines only he could see, visiting places no human had ever seen before.

During his travels he also often visited the fair fae courts.

Because he was using his knowledge and power to help people out, he was very well known and respected even with the kings and queens.

Which is also why after the incident with the Alderking happened, it was Kian who they trusted to hide the Alderking’s regalia somewhere no one would find them.

He was already an old man to that time and, granting them this last favor, he took the regalia’s secret to his grave, to protect the folk that had done so much for him.

*

wip intro / masterpost

tag list: @gr3y-heron @soupopoireau @harinawa @vibinwiththehomies @elisabethrosewrites @charleeyy @violetcancerian @that-one-potato-blep @imstillherebitch @stardustspiral @thewalkingnerdx @abalonetea @andifthestarsweretodie @myhusbandsasemni @contes-de-rheio @rhikasa @phantasticdomains @thegirlwithnonickname @marewriteblr @kimblewrites @writingbyjillian @write-for-your-life2 @deadlycupid @nora-theteawriter @ladywithalamp @the-writing-avocado @writing-is-a-martial-art @bloodlessheirbyjacques @sleepy-night-child (if you want to be added or removed from the tag list let me know!)

[rael-rider]

richard rider for the ask!

Oooh straight for the fav! I like it. Favorite thing: My favorite thing about him is how much he cares about others and he's a character who has a lot of empathy towards those around him. During the Annihilation war there was a moment where he had to sacrifice people, who can't evacuate in time, to deal a blow to Annihilus' wave with an orbital laser strike or else the wave would have killed everyone and he's agonizing about the decision. What he ends up doing is he puts himself with the people that are about to be sacrificed and orders an orbital laser strike on his location putting his fate with theirs not knowing if he will survive. It's probably not the wisest thing to do when you're a very important leader in a war but it shows that he doesn't see himself above anyone. When Galactus is eating a planet and he's helping evacuate the citizens he notices the rich are leaving the poor and marginalized to die to Galactus, that pisses him off so badly that he makes it his priority to help them over the upper class. He also has to deal with an evil alien that's feeding on the people's terror and then stall Galactus in order to see that everyone makes it off the planet safely.

Least Favorite thing: I think out of all his flaws it's the fact that he's incredibly stubborn to a fault. Combine that with the fact that he has low-self esteem and is used to operating by himself for the most part it leads to Rich making some incredibly stupid rash decisions that end up with everyone around him getting upset. One of the reasons I like Ewing's run is because he highlights these flaws, shows how it affects Rich and others, and has Rich growing as a character by going to therapy and having him be mindful of his impulsiveness and stubbornness while also having him integrate more into the team. fanon pet peeves I have with them: I don't much see it here but I see it with twitter and it's usually people who are either unfamiliar with the character or just focus on the cool parts in Annihilation and ignore the character parts. But the way some Nova fans describe Rich it makes it seem like he's Nick Fury or like Doomguy and not at all who the character is. I've seen the word grizzled used to describe Rich (and Peter but I'll get to that on the other ask post) when there's really nothing grizzled about him and people's fancasts of Rich tends to be older dudes in their 40's who are also pushing 50 that have done a lot of action roles. Rich is even suppose to be 22 when Annihilation happens so like ???? I also seen people compare Rich to Judge Dredd (and I guess it's because of the space cop thing which is another rant for another time but @novasforce summed it up well in this ask post) and that drives me nuts because to anyone who knows anything about Dredd and Rich knows they wouldn't get along at all.

[ninjakasuga]

Sonally Celebration Week! Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Day six, and admittedly the toughest piece to write since well, action scenes require more finesse than a domestic/slice of life story. The journey continues, and since my main focus mostly centers on Sonic and Sally’s post Robotnik/Eggman war peace time lives, I like to flex different events when the prompts give way to good inspiration. When one has to do with rescuing, well, let’s just say, if you’re dumb enough to harm someone’s children, woe comes to you in waves.

Day Six: Rescue.

It was supposed to have been a nice, pleasant day. Go to Spagonia with your big bro and his wife, enjoy flying in a fancy transport ship. While Sonic and Sally do the diplomatic thing, Sonia and Manic would watch J.C. and Kathy as they got to enjoy the city. See the sights, enjoy some ice cream and crepes from the city vendors, and just have a good old time! However, it wasn’t to last, the day was ruined when the sound of their ‘secret tail’ security guards crying out after being, well truthfully Sonia didn’t get to hear what exactly happened to their bodyguards (she hoped they were alive). All she heard was some muffled noise; some people screaming, and suddenly a van rolled up, and people in masks and jumpsuits grabbed and knocked them all out.

After coming too, she woke up to a bag over her head, only to have it torn off, and bright lights flashing in her face. A camera was aimed at them as some jerkoff using a voice-modulating helmet to obscure his identity was making some long list of demands and basically laid out they were collateral if those demands were not met. She tried to make everything out, but she was still groggy from waking up from whatever they used to knock her out. Manic was no better when she asked him if he gleaned anything she missed, sadly he was as groggy as she had been. She knew better than to ask the kids, clearly the six-year-olds were ‘terrified’ and wanted nothing more than to go home and jump into their parents arms.

Hell, the sixteen year old herself wanted to hug her parents just as badly. After that song and dance with the camera, all four were dragged to this cell of sorts, and left there with a guard detail. Whatever they wanted, they seemed to be serious, or at least wanted to come off that way. Her keen eye noticed some of their guards seemed unsettled. Like they were not keen they had kidnapped children. Maybe she, or Manic could use that? A little of the ol’ duo-charm to-.

“Auntie Sonia?” The small, childish voice snapped the older hedgehog out of her thoughts. Instantly her head snapped to the small child resting in her lap.

Forcing a calm smile, Sonia gently petted Kathleen’s soft auburn hair, which had blue tips at the end. Many thought it was dyed, but it was merely something that seemed to happen to both children, who inherited their Mother’s auburn tresses. Yet at the tips, bits of blue would form over time. No doubt the stubbornness of her big brother’s genes at work. Just hand to mingle with Sally’s.

“What’s up kiddo?” She asked her niece as she continued to stroke her head, and did her best to seem calm and collected. She and Manic were the adults here, they needed to be strong for these precious babies.

Green eyes look up, then over to the cell door, then back to Sonia’s own. “I wanna go home.” A simple request, but what child wouldn’t want to go home with this kind of situation abound? “Why do these guys wanna be mean to Mommy and Daddy?”

Another voice spoke up, the disdain high and snark on full. “Cuz they’re- and I quote.” Manic Hedgehog interjected, keeping his voice calm, and then upping the volume as he aimed his words at their guard. “A BUNCHA COWARDS WHO RESORT TO KIDNAPPING KIDS!!” He shouted with full malice at their captors, which made both children recoil, and his sister wince.

“Manic!” Hissed Sonia as she reached out and yanked at his ear. “Stop it! You’re just making it harder for J.C. and Kathy!” She growled at her brother, her eyes going to the door to their cell and sure enough their masked guard had turned to regard them. Thankfully he just turned away and went back to guarding.

“Well these bozos need to know what kind of d*ckless, wussies they are!” Retorted Manic, the green-dyed-furred hedgehog with a growl in his voice. Usually Manic was chill, and easy-going with a touch of mischief. He was running red right now, his niece, nephew and sister being put in danger can do that to someone. “Plus they’re f*cking idiots!”

“Manic, language!” Sonia chastised further as she covered his mouth with a hand. “Not that I disagree with you, but is antagonizing our captors the wisest idea?!”

Removing her hand from his mouth, Manic let out a dismissive snort. Yet his gaze softened some as he saw the kids were looking antsy again. “Maybe not, but seriously what kind of idiots kidnaps the Prince and Princess of a Kingdom? I mean, you want a war? Plus think of their parents, heroes of the war against the Big Robo and Big Eggy! I mean that’s a recipe for doom more than my Taco Tuesday Blowout Cookout.” The food wasn’t the issue, so much as the aftermath, but worth it in Manic’s eyes.

A small rumbling was heard and J.C. blushed as eyes rested on him. “...I’m hungry, and Uncle Manic makes great tacos.” He managed a smile, despite clearly still being scared.”

“Heheh, once we get out I’ll make us all some.” Manic promised as he lovingly scratched the back of his nephew’s ears. He did the same for Kathleen, not wanting her to feel left out. “Also, sorry about the yelling and language, I’m just pis-er-pointedly angry at the bad guys.”

“We’re ‘not’ the bad guys.” Their guard finally spoke, snorting loudly. The way he seemed to clutch his weapon and his covered tail (they seemed intent to make it hard to guess their species) twitch and move, hinted at his anger at such an accusation.

Despite having just chastised Manic for antagonizing their captors; Sonia found herself unable to not engage them. “Not from where we’re standing. Uncouth as my brother put it, he called it right. Nobody who kidnaps children are the good guys.”

“We’re not going to harm you, we’re just sending a message.” His steadfast tone, carried a firmness of whatever convictions he carried about their unknown ‘cause’.

“What sort of message? We’re kidnapping your kids, so we invite you to come kick our butts? Seriously, what else do you expect?” Sonia inquired, keeping her tone polite, hoping perhaps this guard might spill some kernel of information they could use. Then a thought occurred to her. “What happened to the bodyguards watching us? I heard them cry out, did you capture them too or did you kill them?”

“We shot them, but we didn’t shoot to kill.” The guard callously responded. “They should live.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Even a crippling gunshot can lead to death if they bleed out before they get help or the injury causes the right amount of trauma. I heard multiple muffled sounds… If they got shot multiple times that increases the chances they didn’t make it.” The magenta-dyed hedgehog stated with cold, medical fact. “They also had families, so nice job dipwad, you possibly widowed and orphaned two families.” It was petty, but seeing his body language shift and just slightly shake before firming back up gave Sonia a sense of satisfaction. “You could have used stun-blasters.”

The guard hissed back his reply, but she could tell he was trying to justify his words to himself. “You can’t silence stun-blasters.”

Rolling his eyes, Manic decided to chime in. “So you bozos prioritized not making noise, over making your little power grab as bloodless as possible.”

“If they die, our leaders will make it right, all of this has a purpose! It’s to make things better-!”

It wasn’t Sonia or Manic that cut the man off, but J.C.’s small but clearly angry voice. “So making Mr. Hunigan and Mrs. Fletcher dead is alright when you say so?” The boy’s fists clenched tightly. “They were nice people, and we know their kids, they’re our friends… you took their Dad n’ Mom from them you-you, j-jerk!”

“Gee, even the six year old can see it clear as day.” Sonia icily sneered at their captor, scooting closer she slid both her arms around her family and kept them close.

“Mommy, sh-she and Daddy are gonna find us.” Kathleen managed to speak up, wiping her eyes, like her brother managed the most fearsome glare she could. “They’ll find us and kick your butts! They’re heroes, they always save the day!”

Turning, the guard’s helmet, visor and cloth covering their mouth obscured whatever Mobian species they were. “Your parents are part of the problem! If not for the Acorn Kingdom’s meddling along with the other outsider nations, we wouldn’t need to do this!”

“Only meanies justify their actions by blaming others!” Humphed the young princess as she turned her head away, as if to utterly disregard her captor. Oh Sonia and Manic’s heart swelled.

“I gotta agree with Kathy here, sounds like blame-gaming here-.” Manic mused, only to be cut off by their clearly irate captor.

“If they hadn’t meddled with the trade tariffs making exporting goods harder, not to mention their invasive meddling with our affiliate cities-!”

A lightbulb went off in Sonia’s head. “Wait, wait, time out!” She put her hands together in the referee gesture to hopefully get a word in. “You guys are blaming them for the trade issues and the Acorn Kingdom’s presence in your sister cities? Um, dude, hoo boy, you are probably being played by whoever your leaders are.”

“Bite your tongue-!” “Okay you know what, screw that, and kids I’m sorry but-.” After giving her niece and nephew an apologetic look, she quickly sent her captor a fiery glare. “First off, F*CK you! Second, the Kingdom sent delegations to those cities BY REQUEST! The mayors asked for aid in looking into some oddities with exports from Spagonia going in and out because they realized something was hinky with the weird laws and micro-managing coming out of Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry. Any of your Minister’s calling the investigations meddling or preludes to occupation are trying to play the dodge game moron! Second of all, the tariff problem? I shouldn’t say this, but I love talking shop with my sis-in-law, and boy a lot of the issues stem from how they were set up, like someone ‘wanted’ the tariffs to cause issues and sow discord. It’s a big political set-up but my big-brained Sis likes big-brained chess and she’s onto some corruption from within Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry.”

She watched as the guard looked uneasy, and his compatriot to the far way seemed to be listening in as well and had lowered his weapon some. “That, that can’t be possible.”

Footsteps could be heard as another similarly dressed guard walked into view of the first one. “Ignore them comrade, they’re trying to unnerve you.” “What if it’s true our leaders are lying to us? Given who some of them are-.” “Shut your mouth before you give anything away!” The other, more burly guard hissed as he raised a gloved hand, poised to smack his comrade if he didn’t do as he said. With his associate cowed, he turned to the cell and pointed his weapon. “Shut your mouths or I might just have to shut it for you.”

Manic moved in front of his sister, nephew and niece, arms out. “Touch them buddy, and you and I are gonna tussle!”

“Uncle Manny don’t!” “D-don’t get hurt!” “Manny…” Sonia held the children close, but tried to soothe her brother. “Don’t, they’re clearly too deluded to listen.”

“You will see it is you who is delusional!” The burly captor spoke, with a zeal of a true-believer. “Once it’s clear your Queen and your treacherous nation are outed as the villains they are, things will become bet-.”

Suddenly the entire room rumbled, and the sound of muffled shouts, and fighting could be heard in the other room. All their captors turned toward the metal door just out of view of Sonia, Manic and the children. Suddenly the door flies off its hinges, slamming into the far guard who cried out in pain and terror as they are taken out. A familiar ‘rev up’ sound is heard and then a blue blur slams into the burly captor sending him flying. As the sounds of fists fly, another far off captor raises their weapon, only for the sound of jets to get clouder and a familiar southern drawl is heard shouting. “TAKE A NAP YA’ CREEP!” A blaster bolt is heard firing off screen. Soon a blue energy blast hits the captor, causing them to drop their weapon as the stun-bolt freezes their whole body. As another guard attempts to fight, the flying Rabbot zooms him and body-tackles the would-be-attacker, a loud, thick ‘crunch’ of metal hitting flesh is heard. Clearly a one-hit-KO.

The original guard readies their weapon, trying to pick a target, clearly panicking. “Ho-hold or I’ll shoot!”

*KER-SLICE!!*

Their weapon is cleaved in two, falling from their hands, and in the next half-second, the tip of the weapon responsible is held at their throat. This man finds himself looking into the very, angry blue eyes of the Queen of the Acorn Kingdom herself, Sally Acorn. Wielding an ornate sword with the crest of her family on the hilt, and ornate lines etched into the blade. For a second the guard swore the weapon’s blade glowed for a moment, but whatever the case, it was clear the Sword of Acorns (reforged and imbued with Sally’s residue Super energy) was capable of cutting quite nicely.

Her voice was ever commanding, calm and serene, yet deadly and potent. She was clearly angry, but using said anger as a laser-focused weapon instead of being consumed by it. For now.

“You will let my babies and my younger siblings out of that cell. Now, no questions. If you so much as dare do anything but I ask, you will regret it. Do not force me to spill blood before my children, because you WILL live to regret it.” She vowed.

“N’ she ain’t the only one you need ta’ worry about.” Uttered Bunnie Rabbot, as she got up from pummeling her foe into unconsciousness. She flexed both of her cybernetic arms which transformed into blaster mode on the right, and nasty energy axe on the left. “You further threaten my God-Children or Manny and Sonia’s well-being. I might just forget I’m a Southern Lady.” While plain and frank, there was a menace in her eyes mirroring Sally’s, and the hum of her weapons furthered showed she was not playing games.

A small ‘boom’ and a flash of blue from across the room, and the guard found Sonic the Hedgehog on the other side of him, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly. “Door, open, my kids and siblings safely in arms, now!’ He didn’t bother making threats, he didn’t need to.

The guard simply let out a pathetic sound, wet himself and passed out onto the floor.

Without a word, Sonic dug at their belt, found the key and quickly as he could unlocked the cell door, and threw it open. All anger, and intimidation left his face (as well as Sally and Bunnie who put away their weapons) as the look of a worried parent and brother overcame all else. “Are you four okay?! Did they hurt you any-?!” “DADDY, MOMMY!!” Instantly Kathleen, and J.C. dashed into the arms of their Father, with their Mother soon joining in the hug, checking them over.

“Oh my babies!” Sally clutched her family tightly, kissing the children all over their faces and tops of their heads, as she checked them for injuries. “It’s okay now, Daddy and Mommy are here, oh God I’m so sorry this happened, that we weren’t there to stop you from being taken.” She babbled, as the kept-in-check emotions burst from the dam she erected to focus on the rescue.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry…” Sonic murmured, his heart still racing even with all his joy held firmly in his arms. Lifting his gaze, tear-stained he looked to his siblings worriedly. “How’re you two holding up? They didn’t hurt any of you did they?”

“Nah, they just… dragged us around at most.” Manic shrugged, but was clearly relieved this whole thing was over. As he stood he found his legs shaking, and leaned against his equally leg-shakey sister. “All that said, glad you guys found us so soon.” Moving closer, Bunnie shifted her arms, what was metal now, began to flash with energy and seemingly disassemble back to flesh and blood. The wonders of bio-nanite tech. Once her arms were organic again she pulled the two hedgehog siblings into a hug. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner sugah, but we had to basically strong-arm some of the Spagonia government to give us the okay to act. Though once Sally n’ Sonic scared these bozos' supposed leaders into talkin’ they squealed like- well sumthin I can’t say within earshot of kiddos.”

Sonia let herself chuckle, relief and a sense of security flooding her being as she leaned into the hug. “So, lemme guess, the Trade Minister and his flunkies were the culprits?”

“Yeah, I mean we were gonna confront em’ with the evidence Nicole uncovered, but you all bein’ taken kinda forced our hands.” Bunnie further explained as she scratched the back of their ears soothingly. “U-Uncle Manny and Auntie Sonia, looked after us, we’re okay…” J.C. managed to speak once his throat wasn’t sore from crying (this time from happiness).

“Hmm-hmm, they’re the best as always!” Kathleen agreed, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she remained cocooned by her parents and brother.

Smiling, Sonic reached over and managed to give each of his younger siblings an affectionate arm-punch. “Somehow I knew they’d have it under control.” Well more hoped, but he didn’t want to devalue his sibling’s efforts. No if anything he wanted them to ride the pride of keeping themselves and the kids safe.

“Lucky for us, as Sonia called it, these guys were morons. Dangerous ones, but morons.” The green-furred hedgehog blew out a breath, and then he recalled something. “Um, ah, how’re Agent Fletcher and Hunigan?”

“Alive.” Sally replied, still nuzzling her children, still unwilling to let them go. Her own heartbeat was finally starting to calm down and the adrenaline high was crashing. “They were hurt badly, but both are tenacious and they got help just in time. They might have to retire from active duty early but we’ll be sure they’ll be looked after, their families too.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The two teens, and the younger children exclaimed, as joy at the news eased their hearts from the dread they felt prior.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but the boot clomps’ were familiar. So no one tensed or got ready for another fight. Especially once Captain of the Royal Guard, Antoine D’Coolette emerged, wiping his sword blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it into its scabbard. “My Queen, ze fools have been disarmed, and rounded up. As you requested, we managed to take them all alive, if injured.” After a beat, he contemplated making a joke about some being ‘literally’ disarmed, but with the children there, he decided against it. “How are ze young ones?” He asked, decorum giving way to concerned God-Father, and as a fellow parent.

“Thankfully unhurt Sugah-Twan.” His wife replied, flashing a smile his way. “Where’s Tangle n’ Whisper?”

“Helping out Tails to ensure we didn’t miss anyone and secure the location.” Informed Antoine as he walked over, making sure all were fine, if to soothe his own fretful nature. They also will wish to zee’ that our rescuee’s are le’fine.”

Sniffing away the last of her tears, Kathleen looked up at her Mother. “Uncle Tails came too? I thought he was testing his new plane in the South Seas?”

“Once he heard the news, he jetted over as fast as he could and offered to help.” replied Sonic with a wide smirk of pride and relief for his ‘not-so-little’ bro. “Family sticks together, and well you guys are as much family as his own. Which by the way, I’m sure Tails will wanna set up a face-chat so Mina can see you’re all fine.”

“She is very fond of her biggest fans.” Chuckled Sally, who internally still found it ‘very’ weird, that Tails and Mina Mongoose hooked up. Their age gap wasn’t too bad, and clearly whatever happened to bring about their dating didn’t occur until Tais was eighteen/nineteen-ish. Then again he clearly had a thing for older women, at least his choices after Fiona Fox were an improved taste. As long as Mina was good to Tails, that was all she cared about, and they did seem like a good couple. Still weird but that was on her.

“Can we leave now?” J.C. asked softly looking up at both his parents hopefully.

“You got it son, we’ll juice n’ jam out of here and get you guys some food and tucked in for the night.”

“Can we have a sleepover in the hotel suite? Like all of us with blankets on the floor and pillows nests?” Asked Kathleen with big, hopefully eyes. A look her brother mirrored and nodded to her suggestion.

“Yeah, can we have a sleepover?!” Manic echoed, doing his best impersonation of the look.

“I don’t see why not, if everyone else is on board.” “Wouldn’t be hard for us all to fit in, big ol’ space, and like you could ask us to stay away after today.” Bunnie voiced her opinion with a warm smile at the children. Giving them assurance she was on board.

“Like the saying goes, the more the merrier.” Antoine stated to voice his blessing. “Plus I’m sure Bunnie and my own angels would love the idea as they too were worried about you four. As was your Nanny Miss Cream.” The coyote gently ruffled the hair of the two youngsters, his mind drifting to his children two years their senior. Yes, if they had been through this, he’d gladly acquiesce any whimsy they wanted within reason, and a sleepover to help soothe their nerves? A piece of cake.

Kathleen’s face fell as childish concern flooded her mind. “Oh no, that’s right, we were supposed to meet Jacque, Belle and Miss Cream after lunch…” “Hey they know we didn’t stand 'em’ up by choice.” Manic interjected as he flashed a smile and reached over to ruffle his niece’s cheek tufts.

“Let’s blow this pop stand, I want a hot bath, lots of bubbles and all the cheese cake…” Sonia muttered, feeling her own adrenaline rush and the weight of the whole ordeal finally sapping her energy.

“I hear that, let’s go home everyone.