#i need a momento to recover from this

[blackrosesmatron]

I may repeat myself here, but I absolutely adore your version of LeBlank. If I am honest, I would have assumed all the amazing characterisation, you managed to give her, would mean that Riot had given you a lot to work with. So to learn that you did most of this yourself? I can only say massive props to you.

I really think you are actually much better at the Machiavellian writing than you are giving yourself credit for. I genuinely feel like LeBlank always has some kind of plan or strategy at the back of her mind, which my muses have to counter. Whenever we write Silco and her, it feels like they match each other's skills. I love the different approaches your LeBlank has, based on the different aliases she has. I love how she feels different for Jinx, Silco and Naafiri and yet I can always tell it is the same character at her core.

I love how you have such passion for this muse and how much you expend her beyond anything Riot has given her. I know how tough it is to develop something from scratch and developing a character like LeBlank from scratch is extra complicated. You are doing a phenomenal job, so keep it up.

||

This made me scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time. My brain bugged out really bad, not even joking about it!

I cannot begin to express how much this means to me. Firstly, because I'm insecure, and I do need reassurance every now and then. But the compliment and reassurance coming from a person that I admire as a writer is something else.

Arcane did give a great deal of insight for each an any of the main characters of the serie, and still, you took it further into their minds, which reflects on their behaviors and shows on their relationships with others.

I only could aspire to become such a great writer as you one day!

You've created so much and have managed to be so on point with all your muses that hearing from YOU that I'm doing a good job with LB is nothing short of an honor!

I'm gonna take a screenshot of this and save it for whenever I'm feeling insecure about my take on LB.

Thank you, Miss T. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. <3

[hypnotic-kink]

I’m so over trying to recover from these damn hurricanes! It’s nonstop, physical labor, which I’m not afraid of, but literally my body is rebelling. Once a week, I just have to take a day off to recharge because my body is so sore from lifting and cleaning. Mentally exhausted from all the paperwork and the hoops you have to jump through to get your insurance money and hire contractors. Not to mention moving into a rental, but at least that wasn’t a big deal because the hurricane destroyed everything in the house luckily I was able to find a furnished rental. But at least I was able to save some household items that were up high enough so that they didn’t flood. Who would think you’d be so excited that you still had dishes and some pots and pans lol. Even washing and sanitizing all the clothes curtains and bedding is exhausting. Anybody wanna come over and fold all that LMAO But the really sad part is seeing Momentos and memories destroyed that I had saved for my children. I took as much out as I could, but there was always something I forgot, which makes me sad. Like Who thinks about taking a flash drive with all your pictures on it from your computer from long ago when the kids were young. 

Went to the house today and now the whole ceiling in three rooms is soaking wet and the garage ceiling caved in. Not the actual roof but on the inside. What the hell is next?!

If you’ve never been through one, I don’t think people realize how devastating this can be not to mention paying for a rental while you’re paying for your mortgage. I’m about ready to move but gotta fix the house before i can do that. And the really scary part is if it cost more than 49% of the market value of your home to fix it, they will make you condemn it and there’s no way the insurance money will cover to rebuild on stilts, which is what they require. There will be so many people losing their homes because of this, which is why most of us are trying to do as much of the work by ourselves to save money just to keep our homes. If another hurricane comes through and floods, we are all screwed.sooooo stressful! 

I’m just discouraged right now. I just went through this last year. The kitchen was just finished two months ago. I’m so so freaking over it.  I honestly don’t mean to complain, but I am so tired and stressed I needed to vent. For all of you going through the same thing, try not to get discouraged we will get through it. We really don’t have a choice now do we?! 

[narakyoart]

Dawntrail Character Sheet times!

First is Tsukara, the WoL. She ditched the battle mage look in favor of something a bit different. She fights mainly between the DRK & BLM but calls on her RPR avatar in a pinch.

✨She lost her arm during her final fight w/ Zenos. While she recovered post EW events, her friends worked hard to create a prosthetic arm suitable for her (think relic quests line but for C'ari/ the scions... I imagine they needed help from all the weapon/tech groups like Cid or Gerolt lol)

✨ Kintsugi scale scars are a result of the light corruption in SHB.

✨C'ari & Tataru crafted personal momentos for all who fought Hydaelyn. While everyone got jewelry or charms, they made Tsuki a compass.

✨She still struggles a bit with all that has happened but hopes fresh travels and lands would help her move forward. (this ended up lending well with DT's later themes)

Next up is C'arisah Niraj! In EW, she recovered memories of her BRD friend Luna, who was lost to the calamity and was the one that gifted her the butterfly pin. Though forgotten, her subconcious still followed Luna's path. Cari decided to take up something that fits her creative and colorful nature. After all, C'ari is a natural entertainer and picking up a visual medium to add to her talents makes sense! She still honors Luna in her new medium

🌸Engaged to G'raha; they would have been married yesterday but they want to find a way to involve the first in the ceremony.

🌸Changed up her hair, now with more highlights and short for the summer!

🌸Bought a bigger bag for Carry (Her spriggan child) to put new rocks in~

Lastly, we have Sarantuya (Saran for short). Tsuki's younger sister.

She's gone for a more casual look for adventuring after EW. She's likely to travel with another pair but can't be sure until I play through the story hehe. She definitely tags along and got accepted as part of the 2nd promise group, as she's resourceful af lol. She wanted to show she can have her own adventures without her sister....

🌟She use to feel envy of C'ari and Tsu for their abilities to multi-class and the gift of the echo but she's grown to accept and embrace her limitations.

🌟She manages to easily take to the Viper fighting style as it suits her very much.

🌟She steals MUCH less now, but if someone deserves it…you know.

[zandiiangelspit]

A Greater Memory Of You // Leon x Ashley

A simple seek and secure mission that had become a well of memories, haunting and traumatic but there was still some light in the form of golden hair and baby blue eyes. A rosy smile that kept him sane and grounded through the entire ordeal, made it bearable and something to fight for.

Who knew even during the worst week of your life could you find something so warm and beautiful. Who knew you could find home in a person.

It had been months since the events in Spain, or maybe longer as time began to bleed together. With the mission complete and over, life had returned to normal, or what little normality it seemed to hold these days.

A simple seek and secure mission that had become a well of memories, haunting and traumatic but there was still some light in the form of golden hair and baby blue eyes. A rosy smile that kept him sane and grounded through the entire ordeal, made it bearable and something to fight for.

Who knew even during the worst week of your life could you find something so warm and beautiful. Who knew you could find home in a person.

But now she was home, safe, never to endure such horrors again. Out of harm's way. Returned to her family and was secured from the outside world. It was unlikely she’d ever be alone again, always escorted by her security detail, kept well beyond arm's length for the rest of her life.

He often found himself looking back at the photo of her, once a piece of evidence now a momento he hadn’t the heart to hand in and get rid of. To see her smile again was bitter sweet. It brought him joy but each time the photo reminded him how he’d never see her again. It had never crossed his mind, especially after growing so fond of her, that the possibility of never seeing her once she returned home.

After spending every waking hour with her in mind, having her so close and beside him, learning more about her unbridled spirit and her captivating enthusiasm, to never see it again felt like a piece of him was now missing.

Something about her lifted his spirits, she was everything he never knew he needed. Sure, he has saved people before, stayed in contact with them and felt the relief of a life saved. But Ashley… he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Pining for her.

A knock at the door drew him from his spiral of plaguing thoughts, snapping him out of the daze he often found himself in. Tucking the photo back into his wallet he heaved himself from the chair at his desk.

To his pleasant surprise it was the welcome familiar face of Claire at his door. One of the few people who seemed to pull him back on his feet. Never judging him for taking longer than he needed, knowing the horrors that haunted him as well. Maybe too well, her own experiences are like a creeping shadow on her own mind that she could never fully shake off. She just had a better way of hiding it.

“Hey,” she started, smiling the best she could while seeing the lost look in his eyes, knowing how distant he seemed to be, especially lately, “I know you’re still recovering and taking your time but I thought I’d bring you this..” Offered out to him was a large white box, neatly wrapped with twine and a brown paper envelope tucked in with it.

Furrowing his brow, he looked to Claire with some hesitation, her smile never faltering as she offered it out again to him. “Some M.I.B. looking guy handed it over to me yesterday, so I figured I’d give it to you directly before it gathers dust.”

“Huh, some gift basket ‘thank you’ I see,” he scoffed, taking the box and looking over the envelope for the way his name was written. His eyes softened and his heart nearly skipped a beat. It was handwritten, not typed. Just his first name, no full formal surname or title copied and pasted from a template.

“Oh yeah, sure. Probably some nice soaps or fancy cheese.” She chuckled, stuffing her hands back into her jacket away from the cold. “You get used to it..” Noticing the bewildered look on his face, she smiled to herself. Sure he was stronger and tougher now, but he was still that tender young hopeful man beneath the hardened exterior she had first met.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Claire announced, turning on a heel to leave the porch, knowing well Leon was now distracted. “Take care of yourself, Leon.”

Pulling himself away from the box, she had already taken her leave, looking up just in time to see her wave from the car as she pulled away. His eyes lingered until she was gone from view, dropping his eyes back to the box as he went back inside the apartment.

Setting the box down at his desk, he carefully pulled at the twine string, admiring the bow lovingly placed in the centre. Removing the envelope he studied his name again, a knot twisting in his stomach as he tentatively opened it. The paper inside was pretty and pastel, a border of floral filigree along the edges to frame the delicate handwriting inside. His heart nearly stopping as his eyes scanned the first few words,

“My dear Leon,

I hope this letter finds you well and that you’re happy and safe.

I could never find the words to truly thank you for saving me. Your kindness and devotion mean the world to me.

You mean the world to me.

I miss you…

Thank you again…

Maybe one day we’ll see each other again, I hope every day that we do.

Love,

Ashley

P.S. I hope this fits you. I decided this colour would suit you best, as your loyal stylist.”

He read over the letter a few times, subconsciously sat against the back of the couch, unable to pull himself away from the gift. His eyes kept going back to her name, the way he could see her perfectly even in the way she writes. There was a smile on his lips he hadn’t felt in weeks, not since the last time he saw her. His heart ached and chest grew tight, reading again the last few lines.

“I miss you too,” he quietly murmured to himself in the cold emptiness of his lonely apartment.

Standing up he moved to the box again, gently setting down the letter and lifting off the lid to reveal the tissue wrapped gift inside. Unfolding the soft orange paper, his smile grew and he let out an airy laugh.

Neatly pressed inside was a leather bomber jacket, near identical to his previous one now lost to an abandoned village in Spain. It was cleanly made, fresh and new. The fresh smell of leather and cotton filled the air with a faint scent of perfume. Her perfume. Clearly she had handled it before carefully packing it away, neatly wrapping it herself.

Pulling it out he looked it over adoringly. The lining was tidy and the sheepskin lined collar was soft to the touch. The leather was smooth and expertly tailored, a burnt umber collar with matching cream lining. The buckles were the same, all shiny and fresh, polished to match the brass colour zips.

Unzipping the front, he noticed it had one additional element, a small label beneath its patch of authenticity, a golden colour with dusky purple embroidered writing, adorned with a small heart.

‘My hero, love Ashley’.

His fingers gently brushed over the embroidery, too stunned by the immense care and love she had put into a gift just for him. The fact she has remembered such an insignificant fact about him, something so throw away and trivial in comparison to the greater things at stake.

~

He had briefly mentioned about his jacket while they took a breather one night, gathering their energy to continue through the castle they had unfortunately found themselves.

‘I’d offer you my jacket, however, it seems one of our unwelcome guests has taken a shine to it’. Leon signed, frustrated he couldn’t offer Ashley more comfort from the cold, especially since the rain had picked up and soaked them both.

‘It’s okay, I can manage,’ she smiled, trying her best not to show her trembling body or chattering teeth. Even with her jacket and adrenaline the chill has seemed through to her bones. ‘Could you not get it back?’

He sighed, checking his ammo count for a second time, ‘I would if I could, however I don’t fancy it now it’s burned and covered in gore. Don’t think it’d suit me.’

His smile was sarcastic as he loaded up another mag, her eyes following his hands then back to his face when she realised the jacket was no more. The explosion from his precise aim to a tanker earlier had consumed it along with the hoard they had been escaping.

‘Oh’ she frowned, ‘that sucks…’

‘Yeah, I loved that jacket. Got it with my first paycheque. A long time ago now…’ snapping the mag back into his pistol, he shrugged, ‘anyway, let’s get going. Got more important things to worry about than my choice in fashion.’

‘I’ll get you a new one, we’ll go on a shopping trip when we get home!’

He chuckled, meeting her hopeful expression with a raised brow. ‘A shopping trip? You got it. You can be my stylist.’

Ashley nodded enthusiastically, ‘yes! I mean, who doesn’t love clothes shopping?’

‘I’d happily watch paint dry with you over this hell any day.’ Her expression faltered, a soft flush across her face as she reached for his offered hand to her. Smiling up at him, she nodded shyly as she squeezed his hand, unable to respond to his remark with any kind of composure. It was endearing, how quickly she could go from level headed and confident to shy and hesitant.

Pulling her close to him, Leon smiled, raising her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. ‘But first, let’s get you home and out of the cold.’

~

Raising the jacket to his lips, he pressed his lips to the label, closing his eyes to savour the scent of her on the leather before it faded. Inhaling deeply then slowly releasing. His shoulders relaxed as he looked down onto it again, unable to stop himself from smiling, even though his heart was aching.

“Thank you. Ashley…”

Pulling it on, adjusting the collar and checking the cuffs, he shook his head to himself, impressed with just how perfectly it fit. Of course it did. Ashley has made sure it would. Even without a tape measure and reference, she knew fashion when she saw it. It was clear from her own choice of clothes, expensive and high end, neat and designer. She knew what she was looking for even from a brief summary and just by looking at him. Ashley knew his taste better than he did.

Glancing at the reflection of himself in the glass of the cabinet beside him, admiring the colour again, he noticed it would have matched the colour of her own clothes, the rich orange of her blaser. Ever thoughtful with a keen eye for the little things.

He now had a piece of her with him, not just a crumpled faded photo to remember her by, nor distant memories corrupted by nightmares. Just the simple gift of her remembering him, thinking of him, and missing him too.

Maybe one day they’d meet again and maybe he could return a greater gift to her. Though nothing would be a greater gift than to see her golden smile again.

[julebirdie]

dearly devoted

ft. malleus draconia

reader is gn

not requested

disc: reader is meant to represent maleficent’s crow, use of (Y/N), reader is sick and is going to perish soon, descriptions of d*ath, malleus has a minor breakdown

“would you wait for me, my prince?”

you were sickly. your strength was vanishing in droves as you lay in the same bed, looking outside the foggy window at the kingdom. you lacked the ability to perform spells, much less transform into a crow in the way you would previously.

“pardon?” malleus asked.

“the horrible truth is, my prince, i will perish soon. i do not want to, to be removed from your side by any means aside from my own is torture, but it will happen.”

“do not speak like that (Y/N). you will recover and return to my side just as before.” malleus knew you were right, but he was scared.

scared of the years that lay ahead for him, years that seemed so dark without your presence to guide him.

“you are strong malleus,”the first time you ever referred to him by his name, “you will be a fit ruler for briar valley.”

“it means naught to me if you are not there.”

“do not speak like that, your people need you.”

“and i need you.”

silence enveloped you both as you stared at malleus, surprise written all over your features.

“you…need me?” you whispered.

“i do. you are not just a bird, (Y/N), you are my dearest friend, my closest confidant, my beloved.”

malleus gripped your hand, the warmth of his palm greatly contrasting the coolness of your’s.

“to answer your question, yes, i will wait for you. but i will not need to, you will recover fine and return to me as strong as before.” he pressed his forehead against yours, his horns rubbing against the feathers you had placed behind your ears.

“of course i will, my prince,” you said, closing your eyes. you knew you were lying through your teeth, he knew it too. but in moments like these, it’s easier to pretend like the circumstances weren’t real.

malleus moved away, standing from the chair he had placed next to your bed. “retreating to your quarters? before you go, take this,” you plucked one of your feathers and handed it to him, “a momento.”

“goodnight, beloved.” malleus said, weaving the feather into his hair as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“goodnight my prince, will i see you tomorrow?”

“of course.”

—

malleus woke to an eerily silent castle. normally, he’d have lilia and the workers bustling around, completing chores and waking him up.

but today, it was quiet.

feeling for the feather, malleus stood once he felt it secure behind his horns. he pushed the heavily door of his bedroom open and walked down the corridors that lead to your quarters.

“good morning, malleus,” he turned as he heard lilia speak behind him. lilia didn’t look like himself today, his voice missing the chipper attitude and his face devoid of feeling.

“lilia, where is everyone?”

“i’m sorry.”

“pardon?”

“(Y/N). They passed away during the night—i’m so sorry malleus, there was nothing we could do.”

malleus felt his mind close off entirely and a dark pit grow in his stomach. he reached up and pulled the feather from his hair, twirling it in his fingers.

“but they were supposed to recover.”

“i know, malleus.”

thunder began to crack outside, the castle reflecting the green hues of the bolts. he knew it was coming, he should’ve been prepared. but you were just yesterday, and it all happened to suddenly.

malleus heard the sobs before he felt them. the thunder raged on as he fell to the floor, gripping the feather as he finally began to realize the situation. you were gone.

lilia’s arms pulled him into a hug as his cries became worse, more desperate. he pled to the seven, cursed at them, asked why it had to be you. lilia only shushed him, muttering only words of comfort and brushing through his tangled hair.

he held onto the feather in every living moment since then. making sure it still looked proper and clean, he made sure he wouldn’t let any harm come to it. it was all he had left of you.

malleus never took up another lover, keeping his promise to you. he said he would, and now he will wait to see you again.

[angelshroud]

HORA DE ELEGIR!!!!

Así es... 

Como dice, ustedes van a decidir que historia quieren leer.

La dinamica es facil, solo necesitan votar.

Obviamente pondré el titulo  (el que tengo de manera provisional) y una breve sipnosis  de lo que se tratará, más las tematicas que se van a abordar.

Ok... Están listos? ;D

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

Time to decide!!!!

That's right...

As the title says, you are going to decide what story you want to read.

The dynamic is easy, you just need to leave a comment with the title of the story you want to read next.

Obviously I'm going to put the title (the one I have temporarily) and a brief summary of what it will be about plus the topics they are going to address.

Ok.... Are you ready? ;D

*Aiden: Una precuela del AU "Deep Sleep", cuenta la vida de Aiden Henson, desde el momento en el que llega a playcare hasta  su transformación en Dogday, profundizando en su vida y contando lo que no se vió (Tragedia/ drama/ romance/ temas delicados)

Aiden: A prequel to the AU "Deep Sleep", it tells the life of Aiden Henson, from the moment he arrives at Playcare until his transformation into Dogday, going deeper and telling what was not seen in the main story. (Tragedy/ drama/ romance/ delicate topics)

*What if...: Todos creemos que Catnap le arrancó las piernas a Dogday  y lo usó de ejemplo para ser un recordatorio de lo que le pasaría a los herejes... Pero... Y si eso solo es una mentira? Y si fué el prototipo quien le arrancó las piernas y Catnap en su intento de protegerlo usó la idea de ser el ejemplo de quien se atrevan a desobedecer?.... ¿Que pasó en esos 10 años?....  (Tragedia/ drama/ romance/ temas delicados/ religión)

What if...: We all believe that Catnap ripped off Dogday's legs and used him as an example to be a reminder of what would happen to heretics... But... What if that's just a lie? And if it was the prototype who tore off his legs and Catnap in his attempt to protect him used the idea of ​​being the example of those who dare to disobey?.... What happened in those 10 years?.... (Tragedy/ drama/ romance/ sensitive topics/ religion)

*Luna en el corazón:  Catnap, un gato quien vive en la luna, cae a la tierra por razones desconocidas quedando herido, Dogday,  descubre al intruso y decide cuidarlo hasta que este se recupere; mientras tanto, el perro le enseñará muchas cosas al gato, como las costumbres, los festivales y más cosas de la tierra. Y claro.... También el amor. (Romance/ comedia/ Universo alterno)

Moon's heart: Catnap, a cat who lives on the moon, falls to earth for unknown reasons and is injured. Dogday discovers the intruder and decides to take care of him until he recovers; Meanwhile, the dog will teach the cat many things, such as customs, festivals and more about the land. And of course.... love. (Romance/comedy/alternate universe)

¡Que se diviertan!! :D

-------

Have fun!!!! :D

[bl00dblight]

Currently reading your fic "Ex hoc Momento Pendet Aeternitas" on AO3, lovely to read another great Tarnished/Radagon fic!

Oh my goodness! This ask means the world to me! 💖

Thank you so, so much! I am so passionate about Radagon's character and him standing as a heroic, yet still very morally gray, God.

"Ex hoc Momento Pendet" is the first fanfiction I ever wrote, and I really hope to be able to go back and either rewrite it and/or finish it! I've learned a lot from writing it, and even now, my writing continues to evolve.

As of the last chapter uploaded, I explained how I almost died last year and needed time to recover. I'm doing a lot better now, but unfortunately, I never got the spark to write back after being so fatigued after my long stay in the ICU (which still unfortunately plagues me even now- gotta love chronic illness).

Thank you SO much for taking the time to read my silly little fanfic, or at least what has been written thus far! I love Radagon as a character and think he is hiding a lot more layers than most would think, haha! Writing for the Elden Ring world is also a delight! Old English my beloved.

I made some new reference sheets for Dei recently and thought this would also be a lovely time to show them off! He's my pride and joy. I hope you enjoy reading about his little adventure with his enemies-to-lovers God husband as it stands so far! :)

[lunamagicablu]

Semi StellariUna volta Attivati sappiamo bene chi siamo Gli Starseed (Semi Stellari) sono esseri evoluti provenienti da un altro pianeta, un altro sistema solare o galassia, la cui specifica missione è assistere il Pianeta Terra e la sua popolazione durante l’ingresso nella Nuova Era che sta iniziando ora e che sarà presente su scala ancora maggiore nel prossimo futuro.Gli Starseed si incarnano nelle stesse condizioni di debolezza e di totale amnesia sulla propria identità, sulle proprie origini e sui propri scopi che attraversano anche gli umani terrestri.Tuttavia, i geni degli Starseed hanno in sé un codice di “chiamata al risveglio“, che serve ad attivarli in un momento predeterminato della loro vita. Il risveglio può avvenire in modo delicato e graduale o può invece essere del tutto improvviso e drammatico.In entrambi i tipi di evento, viene recuperato un certo grado di memoria, che permette agli Starseed di assumersi coscientemente la responsabilità della propria missione. Anche le connessioni con i loro Sé Superiori vengono rafforzate, e questo permette loro di venire guidati in larga misura dalla loro conoscenza interiore.Molti Starseed sono esperti in “programmi di dimagrimento spirituale rapido”. Possono scrollarsi di dosso in pochi anni i modelli di comportamento limitativi e le paure per superare le quali agli umani possono volere molte incarnazioni. Questo accade perché gli Starseed hanno già intrapreso simili missioni su altri pianeti, e hanno una discreta familiarità con le procedure e le tecniche necessarie a elevare la coscienza.Gli Starseed provano nostalgia ed eccitazione all’idea che potrebbero essere originari di un altro mondo. Fanno esperienza della solitudine e del senso di separazione tipici della condizione umana, ma oltre a questo hanno anche la sensazione di essere stranieri su questo pianeta. Trovano i comportamenti e le motivazioni della nostra società illogici e difficili da capire.Gli Starseed sono spesso riluttanti a farsi coinvolgere nelle istituzioni della società, per esempio nelle strutture politiche, religiose, economiche e sanitarie. Fin da giovanissimi, tendono a distinguere e a scoprire con insolita chiarezza le intenzioni e i programmi nascosti di queste strutture sociali.I concetti di navi spaziale, di viaggio intergalattico, di fenomeno paranormale, di forma di vita senziente di altre galassie, sono ovviamente tutti naturali e logici per loro. “Il piano divino per la Terra” 

ed. Crisalide

art by BENNY  H.V.  ANDERSSON

********************

Star SeedsOnce Activated we know who we areStarseeds are evolved beings from another planet, another solar system or galaxy, whose specific mission is to assist Planet Earth and its people in entering the New Era which is beginning now and will be present on an even greater scale in the near future.Starseeds incarnate in the same conditions of weakness and total amnesia about their identity, origins, and purposes that also traverse Terran humans.However, Starseed genes carry a "wake-up call" code within them, which serves to activate them at a predetermined point in their lives. The awakening can happen in a delicate and gradual way or it can instead be completely sudden and dramatic.In both types of event, a certain amount of memory is recovered, allowing the Starseed to consciously take responsibility for their mission. Connections to their Higher Selves are also strengthened, and this allows them to be guided to a great extent by their inner knowing.Many Starseeds are experts in “rapid spiritual weight loss programs”. They can shrug off the limiting behavior patterns and fears that humans can take many incarnations to overcome in a few years. This is because Starseeds have undertaken similar missions to other planets before, and are fairly familiar with the procedures and techniques needed to raise consciousness.Starseeds feel nostalgia and excitement at the idea that they may be from another world. They experience the loneliness and sense of separation inherent in the human condition, but in addition to this, they also feel that they are strangers on this planet. They find the behaviors and motivations of our society illogical and difficult to understand.Starseeds are often reluctant to get involved in society's institutions, such as political, religious, economic, and healthcare structures. From a very young age, they tend to distinguish and discover with unusual clarity the hidden intentions and agendas of these social structures.The concepts of space ships, of intergalactic travel, of paranormal phenomena, of sentient life form from other galaxies, are of course all natural and logical to them.  “The divine plan for the Earth” 

ed. Chrysalis

art by BENNY H.V. ANDERSSON

[merrybrides]

5 Bachelorette Hangover Kit Must Haves

Ah, the bachelorette party. A multi-day event that can be as fun as it is exhausting. Gifting your bridal party a bachelorette hangover kit is a unique party favor that will ensure your girls recover and are ready for round two.

What is a hangover kit?

A bachelorette hangover kit is a party favor for your guests that is filled with the wellness tools you need to set yourself up for a pain-free morning post dancing the night away. There are plenty of pre-made hangover kits on the internet, but DIYing your own allows you to add personal touches.

How to package my hangover kit?

If you want to go the creative route, a custom drink pouch is a unique vessel for your bachelorette hangover kit. Using a drink pouch allows your rescue pack to be multifaceted. It can be reused to hold snacks, your favorite drink, and wellness goodies for the morning after.

The drink pouches themselves can be completely customizable to include the name of the bride, the date of the party, or inside jokes. You can browse our gallery of premade Bachelorette drink pouch designs, or create your own from scratch with this FYP Customizer.

What goes in a hangover kit for a bachelorette party?

A bachelorette hangover kit is completely customizable. But some universal musts include:

Pain killer medicine

Hydration packet

Makeup remover

Face mask sheets to relieve stress

Chapstick

Of course, as the bride or maid of honor, you know your guests the best. Use this as an opportunity to make it your own! If you have a particular color scheme going for your event, throw in matching scrunchies for your guests. If there is a candy you all love, add that sweet addition to a hangover rescue pack. Custom matches or shot glasses are all thoughtful additions to include and can be used after the party is over as a lovely momento.

What else can I put in my drink pouch?

The night before your bachelorette hangover kit comes to play, you and your bridal party can fill up your matching drink pouches with your favorite drink. Think of our personalized drink pouches as an adult Capri Sun - perfect to add your favorite mixed drink, signature cocktail, or non-alcoholic option.

If you are looking for an easy and festive cocktail recipe for your bachelorette party, we recommend the fan favorite Disco Lemonade. You can make your cocktail right in the drink pouch! Disco Lemonade is our twist on a peach old fashioned, so it is a great option for anyone’s tastes. A pinch of edible sparkles takes this recipe over the top, and if you're going to be a little extra that’s what a bachelorette party is made for.

Another option is to fill your drink pouch up with snacks. A bachelorette party is a marathon, not a sprint, and your bridal party needs fuel to be their best selves. So putting your favorite chips or crackers in the drink pouch is the perfectly portable vessel for snacking by the pool.

What do I need at a bachelorette party?

Tie your theme together with custom party favors! You can print the same design you customize on your drink pouch on our best selling napkins or cups. Alternatively, you can create a different design that fits the vibe or browse this collection of premade bachelorette designs. Whatever route you go, personalized party accessories will take your event to the next level. 

Custom Drink Pouches with straw

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Pain relief packets

Chapstick - Toast to Love

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Facemask sheets to freshen face

[apollo-zero-one]

Oh man I just had an insane dream lmfao

-Emelie is alive

-She recovers from her illness caused by ///

- Gabriel wants to try /// again

- Adrien doesn't know anything about it

-He is freaking out because he is convinced Gabriel is planning to hurt them

-Steals Gabriel phone off the counter and books it deeper into the house

-In the childhood nursery above the crib he finds a panel and is able to jump to it off a shelf and push it out of the way to crawl up into a tiny secret room in the ceiling which is full of pictures and momentos of himself and Emelie but they are Different Somehow. There is evidence Marinette was here once before? She Knows. He tries to text her but all she does is apologize

He tries to unlock Gabriel phone but he can't all he can do is expand his notifications, turn off his alarm... Decline a mysterious call to keep the phone silent as he is being Pursued

When Gabriel searches the room and moves on, he comes back down and books it. Emelie tries to stop him to explain, and explain about the call- it's important , they can't miss it. I already declined it! That's okay it will come again at 12:30 we just need to be ready- no! He runs Out of the house and runs and runs and runs

Emelie and Gabriel both try to follow but also slow down they don't want to spook him they want him to come willingly (it turns out the whole family is being Pursued by an Exterior Force for Reasons related to the Photos in the Secret Room, and the Phone Call, when answered, will Teleport them to safety, but if they aren't all together, whoever is far away becomes Hurt And Sick as is happened to Emelie in the Past)

His stomach hurts he keeps having to stop. He's getting a lurching feeling. A passerby asks if he needs help. He insists he doesn't but he's rapidly feeling worse . Passerby insists on take him to the hospital

He's in labour this is that kind of fic now. He having a baby. He refuses to give them his name or any info about himself and begs to be protected by his family who is trying to Get Him, so they put him in a separate more secreter room and try to take care of him and help him calm down but he is feral with panic and jumping at every noise and it is not helping with the Active Labor thing

Emelie and Gabriel, and now also several friends, are looking for him, and somehow talk their way into the hospital room, which luckily is L-shaped so Adrien is pressed up against the wall around the corner silently desperately begging the nurse who is the only one who can see him to get them away, which she does, but seems confused when he admits that that Is his family, but they want to Take Him Away

He manages to have a baby boy. Definitely Marinette's by reason of supernatural or perhaps Omegaverse or other magical forces. Must note that he did not know he was pregnant nobody did. He takes his baby and the Moment he is left alone, he is fleeing the hospital because it Isn't Safe There

He still has Gabriel and his own phone which is probably how they tracked him to the hospital. This does not occur to him.

Baby is inside his shirts for safety and ease of one-arm carry. He is walking fast but not running because now he has a whole ass newborn to not accidentally give shaken baby syndrome to. He is also trying to look Normal despite being now like, drenched in sweat in dirty clothes with a baby in his shirts.

He makes it into a mall that also contains a gym, where he is able to obtain some soaps and towels and a change of clothes (and any clothes at all for the baby) and he goes into the gym to use the shower, acquires a real baby sling before leaving the mall

This was where I woke up this is where I am going to have to figure out the rest of the story from here but even though it is absolutely bonkers I like it I think I have a lot to work with and I am gonna try to write it lol

[imperial-nuisance-rudje]

Shayun cared a lot about his mom and as her first kid she doted on him even when her lack of experience raising children meant he stressed her out a lot. They didn't meet again after he left to be a Woodwarder at 15, though he sometimes sent letters, and all contact was cut off when he left the wood, which he mostly endures. (He very much misses her.) He had a momento from her, but it was lost in the Calamity. His father, as a Woodwarder, was mostly not in the picture. He met Shayun once when he was like four, and Shayun has managed to keep the cool rockTM he was gifted until the present day almost entirely because it lives safely in a bag (while the shawl his mother gave him when he left home was in active use until it was destroyed). They weren't on bad terms or anything, his dad was just a weird loner even by Woodwarder standards and rarely made contact with anyone.

Ayulsa keeps close contact with not only her parents but most of her aunts and the sibling swarm (as until contradicted im saying the Z tribe were broadly traditionalist outside of being nomadic merchants). She cares a lot about all of them, and her mom fusses over her when she drops by to visit while her father alternates between fond exasperation and pride even after he stops being the Nuhn.

A'pple has not seen their mother since they joined the wandering healers of their region at 14, but they do send letters and try to keep her up to speed. They got along well with her, though she did baby them to a point they found kind of annoying by the time they hit puberty, big "MOOOOOM IM NOT A BABY ANYMORE!!!" vibes. They did not ever know their father, because he was a Woodwarder and their home region keeps very strictly to a tradition of anonymity for visiting Woodwarders.

Baavgai's birth mother gave him up before he was a year old, trading him to the Buduga for food during a bad year for the Borlaaq. His fathers (I have not decided how many he has) love him dearly, and he makes sure to return to the Steppe when he can to let them know he's alright because he loves them in return.

Nergui is a nonentity to the Dotharl, including his parents. If he were to return from exile, he would likely be slain. He hates this.

Momoka is a momma's boy and while he's stillon good terms with his dad his mom is the one he followed around everywhere until he was like eight. His mom in turn keeps sending him care packages whenever she hears he's been in one place long enough that he might actually receive it. They both worry about him to a degree that could be considered unhealthy due to their age (with both being in their mid-sixties), which he tries to ease with letters. (His birth parents are not in the picture, his sire is a complete unknown and his birth mother peaced out as soon as she recovered from childbirth.)

I need to check my notes for the nerds but iirc Xheh's mom was a big factor in him being allowed to stay with his twins for a bit longer after he transitioned and his dad wouldn't have been in the picture because hashtag just mooncat things bc he died before he was even born due to pneumonia. Mithgar's dad is dead bc he went off to Bozja, but his mom is still alive and deeply frustrated with her son running off with his dad's gunblade—not because of Sharlayan pacifism, but because she's tired of seeing men in her family run off to die and she worries about her little boy. Diviega has outlived both his parents and I have no clue what the relationship was like when they were alive.

What is your WoL's relationship like with their parents, if any, if they remember them?

[honeyhan-123]

The Monster In Plain Sight

Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants. 

Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read. 

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3

Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3

My Masterlist

He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count. 

The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times. 

But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you. 

He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air. 

It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be. 

He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more. 

With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice. 

Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful. 

Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed. 

Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf. 

He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need? 

He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way? 

He sure hoped so. 

He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.

Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.

A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls. 

Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean. 

You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck. 

It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty. 

He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight. 

He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him. 

He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time. 

‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.  

Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better. 

His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing. 

‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up. 

His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips. 

‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close. 

‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’

Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath. 

‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.

He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures. 

A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now. 

Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste. 

He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more. 

He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand. 

Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.

He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you. 

And so much more. 

+

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Part Two

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Thanks for reading <3

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 7

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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

Tulipa esperanto ~ A tulip whose flaming petals sprout from a lush green base, signaling growth and the washing away of lingering burdens.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Thank you both for waiting! I’m just about done.” Felicia chimed from the stove as Levi entered the house. The pleasant smell of fried bread and pork mingled with the freshness of the tulips to create a scent he could only describe as being homey.

“We had no choice but to be occupied.” Oma grumbled from the dining room, one of the spaces Levi had yet to explore. He wandered into the kitchen after removing his shoes and observed Felicia’s bustling and extremely organized methodology. The pan bopped to the rhythm of her wrist while the kettle whistled in melodic time.

“It’s a shame we didn’t have time for tea. We’ll do it after we eat, then.” Oma called, leaning on the doorway that connected the kitchen to the dining room. Levi nodded and clasped his hands behind his back as he awkwardly lingered on the sidelines of the culinary bustle. His languid gaze drifted to the many framed photos that hung on the only wall not covered with ornate gold trinkets or the weaving vines of plants. His eyebrows furrowed as he observed a common theme.

So many of these photos of you were with that hard headed, horse-faced pain in the ass. From what you had told Levi, you had no memory of life without Jean. That he, Oma, and Felicia had been the only constant presences in your life since you were a child. Why did he feel a pang of jealousy? That was a petty emotion.

Oma had placed delicate plaques at the bottom of each frame that accompanied the memory. Levi wouldn’t have pegged her as someone so sentimental.

First Day of Kindergarten

“We’re going to be late, mommy!!” You wailed as your legs jittered like an excited shore bird. Jean stood beside you and rolled his eyes as your anticipation made your connected arms wiggle like a cooked noodle.

“Yes, yes I know. If I could just get this thing-okay, all set, smile big cuties!” Your mother’s gentle voice sang as she clicked the shutter. Jean immediately got over his minor annoyance and the two of you beamed at the camera.

“Lumine, the school bell’s ringing.” Oma chided lightly at her daughter in law.

Levi adored how your wide grin looked too big to be contained by your tiny cheeks.

Noel

“Jean are you even eating in the corps? You look like a twig when you need to be looking like a sturdy branch.” Oma chided as she shuttled more spaetzle onto Jean’s plate. Jean breathed a nervous laugh at her blunt comment.

“Well their food isn’t as good as yours is, Oma.” Jean replied as he gratefully took the plate. You shuffled past the two of them in the busy kitchen to pour yourself a glass of spiced wine.

“Get on my level, noodle-boy.” You teased, bringing your free arm up and flexing your defined muscles as the other held the ladle of wine. Jean threw an arm around your shoulder and squeezed, demonstrating that his noodle arms held more power than they let on.

Felicia had clicked the shutter just as laughter bloomed on your faces and your glass looked dangerously close to spilling over in festive happiness.

Apple Picking

“Freyr, move a little over to the left.” Oma instructed her son. Freyr took a step sideways and bounced, causing you to fly upwards in glee from your resting place on his shoulders. You grasped the sides of his chin as you both grinned at the camera. Crows flew from the canopy of the lush apple orchard behind you.

Levi drank in the features of your father as if he was studying a work of art. He was very tall, strongly built, and had a charisma about him that Levi wagered is why he was so popular in the capital. He resembled more of a lumberjack than a government official. His jawline was hard, like it was curvetted by a steel knife. But his eyes held a softness just like your own.

When Levi’s eyes drifted to the last photo in the row, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He gulped as he let the contents of the picturesque scene sink in. The four individuals looked lively and ecstatic as they proudly showed off their record breaking salmon catch. Your father, Freyr, stood on the far right holding the fish’s head with a confident smirk. You, having to be around 12, stood next to him inwards. Your weak grip was feigning your support of the giant creature’s weight. To the far left your uncle Rall stood perched with the tail held to his chest as he wore a more modest smile than his brother-in-law. Levi felt his arteries clench around his throbbing heart when he gazed upon the girl only a few years older than you at your side. The sweetness of her expression poured icy flames onto Levi’s conscience.

Petra and Y/N’s Catch

Levi felt as if he were the fish in your hands; milky eyed and cold scaled. He was momentarily sent spiraling into his guilt.

“Jean has grown quite handsome now hasn’t he...” Felicia chirped. Levi blinked at the proximity of her bubbly comment as it punched him from his daze. She appeared at his side with their shoulders centimeters from touching.

“You’ve always liked younger men, haven't you?” Oma snickered as she rummaged through the cupboard.

“Hey! I’m not that old Frau Vogel.” Felicia justified with a playful pout. She turned on her heels to grab the dishes from Oma’s hold but was gently slapped away by the determined old woman.

“Yes but you’ve known the boy since he was fresh out of diapers.” Oma quipped back. “Now if you’re done viewing the art gallery of my life, we have dinner to eat.”

The dining room seemed to glow amber. The walls were dressed with a deep cherry wood, carved with grand scenes of folklore that Levi wasn’t familiar with. The table and chairs were no less intricately carved and were birthed of that same rich wood. The table was fit for a family of high standing, its length providing the space to entertain many guests.

Felicia had set the table so that the three of you were sitting close together, leaving a vast empty space for ghosts to join. Levi wondered what kinds of people used to sit there. He let his mind be tempted with that notion as he gradually checked out of the conversation.

If she used to sit there.

After their meal, Levi was left with that satisfactory warmth he felt the day before. He gave his shoulder a good stretch when Oma returned from clearing the dishes.

“How about sitting down with an old woman for tea now?” She said with a small smile.

“Sure.” Levi responded softly. Oma hummed and faded back into the kitchen.

“Felicia went to go check on Y/N and insisted on doing housework.” Oma explained as she gathered the tea time materials.

“So we have a bit of peace-and-quiet time.” She added as she placed two cups of beautiful ivory china on the tea tray next to the tin of Queen Mary leaves.

Oma led the way to the living room which, to his fading surprise, was just as intricately decorated as the rest of the house. Arched windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling displayed the forest to the back of the estate while a grand fireplace framed with pale brick lay in front of the opposite wall. Artwork, photos, and momentos painted all the walls to give it a cozy atmosphere that Levi was still getting used to. Oma placed the tea tray on the coffee table and sat down on one of the long, plush settees. She patted the cushion and Levi joined her, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

An arid silence passed by them as Oma delicately poured the tea into each cup. He was hyper aware now of his past choice during that expedition. Whether it was a mistake or not. He was painfully cognizant of his absence. Sure Levi was curt, at times off putting, and cautiously intense with people. But his immense guilt for what happened to his squad was an underlying and consistent fuel for his awkwardness around your grandmother. It remained attached to him like a fifth limb, a presence that was always lurking even at the smallest intensities. Your love helped, eventually filling the gaping hole that had been carved there. But a hole is still a hole, forever a crevasse that would be a permanent addition to his soul.

He was deeply afraid to bring it up. Afraid of digging into old wounds, afraid of facing more of her family, afraid that your grandmother would deem him unfit to protect you. To call it an elephant in the room was a severe understatement. The unspoken truth was more the size of a beached whale. He had stopped seeing their ghosts in his own shadow. But even now seeing the familial resemblance of her in Oma he suddenly couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

“I don’t blame you, Levi.” She said as softly as the clank of the teapot returning to the tray. Levi’s insides seized but he maintained his composure. She leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. When she craned her head to meet his eyes, his gaze remained fixed on the lone tea cup on the tray.

“For Petra.” Her name fell off Oma’s lips with a delicateness that made Levi’s throat itch with impending shame. “I saw you looking at her photo.”

The itch expanded to an inflation that embedded his incoming breath into the folds of his esophagus.

↞♞♘↠

Your body shivered in the remnants of your hysterical cries. You wished the sadness could have been swept up in the powerful current of your tears but it clung to you like a jagged rock resting just under the rippling water’s surface. Her absence felt like a vital organ had been forcibly taken from your body and the thief hadn’t bothered to stitch you up properly.

“Levi-” You breathed, voice heavy with the aftermath of your latest breakdown. It felt like a tiring journey from the empty bedroom to his office.

Earlier you had held each other, wept with one another, and began grieving together. But as the hours grew on Levi had drawn more reclusive. He had evicted himself from the bed in your fatigue and had resigned to his office chair. The form that occupied the space you almost didn't recognize. He sat deeply reclined in the chair and allowed the material to swallow him. His head dangled limply off his right shoulder, clouded eyes looking at nothing and everything at once. The only sign of vitality in this lifeless shell was the small puffs of air that left his nose.

It was fresh. Painfully fresh. Like a band aid that had ripped off multiple layers of skin. But you needed him right now and you knew he needed you too. The sudden loss of Petra was boring into you. You couldn’t imagine that loss times three that he was experiencing.

“Please we need to talk.” You whimpered as you slowly padded towards his crumpled stature. His swollen eyes and bloodshot whites betrayed his marbled features. He was hesitant to reach for you, to hold you, to touch you. He was sure a part of you must have despised him. Through his own pulsations of pain he could see your own distress. He desperately wanted to be there for you, to wipe away all that ailed you. But how could he do that when he couldn’t even wipe the pain from himself? Especially when he had a hand in inflicting such devastation onto you.

He could never forgive himself for that. For what he did to any of you.

Yet when you unfurled his limbs, climbed into his lap, and encircled yourself into his embrace he exhaled and held you right back.

“Don’t hide from me.” You said with an insatiable quiver. You felt Levi’s arms loosen and begin to pull away as you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

“Please...don’t.” You pleaded, desperate for his comfort. You quickly grabbed his wrists and placed them back along your spine. Levi breathed in frustration but didn’t move to withdraw himself again.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring them back.” He stated with a hopeless gravel.

“I know.” You replied weakly. Levi’s shoulder tingled with fresh tears. He squeezed his eyes shut in self disdain when he began to feel your shaking.

“You must deteste me.” He hummed dryly as the obsessive images of his fallen squad drew more tears from him once more. Each time he thought he was done crying their lifeless bodies bombarded him with more waterworks.

“Levi-” You cried as a sob raked your body.

“How could you even stand to be around me after what I did?” Levi bitterly pushed out as he tasted the salty flow of droplets.

“Shut up!” You coughed, sitting straight up in his lap to look him in the eyes. Your emotions were short circuiting and your patience was running thin for his blame but you hadn’t intended for your reply to come out so aggressive.

Your hands pushed down on his chest as your eyes fluttered shut. You took a moment to take in a deep, albeit ragged, breath. When your eyes opened Levi was fixated on the floor. You grasped his head between your hands and rectified his deflated body.

Your movement forced him to look at you, the two of you exchanging expressions beaten-down by sadness and frustration.

Thinking of the words you were about to formulate spurred more pressure behind your eyes before you articulated them. What was left of Levi's composure fractured as he began to drown in your sorrowful orbs.

You brushed his cheek to keep the both of you from floating away like paper lanterns. You could have lost each other out there today as well as your many comrades and the smoothness of his skin against your thumb kept you in this reality.

This was not the time for conversation, you had already had that. Already had assured him that their passing wasn’t his fault. That, sure if he was there maybe things would have been different but that his actions didn’t dictate their deaths. Telling him again would only be beating a dead horse and cause you both more anguish. The two of you were too weak for that right now.

“You trust me.” You uttered those words as a statement without a hint of question.

Levi nodded instantly. The motion was anamatronic-esque as he struggled to stay afloat.

“I’m here.” You stated softly, taking his hand and placing it directly over your overworked heart. A wave of calm washed over him as he watched his palm move with the deep rhythm of your breathing.

“You’re here.” You continued with a sniffle. You placed your hand on his chest, sighing in comfort as he breathed life into your palm.

“And if we focus on the what if’s we’re going to be hopeless forever.” You spoke the words with vulnerability that betrayed their prowess.

That shattered him.

You watched as his face scrunched with all the emotion he had hid this morning. His brow sloped into his quivering lip and he let out a helpless yelp. He was always trying to not feel. But he could only feign numbness until it embedded itself into everything he did. The void he was carrying now overflowed with singeing emotion that he needed to feel.

For them.

For you.

For himself.

Seeing him so broken caused you to crack too. But for Levi, the gruesome scenes that were replaying on a brutal loop were dulled by the warmth of your hand on his chest, the welcome pressure of your thighs against his, and perhaps the most by your beautiful eyes that despite being ravaged by tears were like a shining beacon in the turbulent storm.

He removed your hand from his chest and took them into his own. He raised your hands to his lips and pressed salted kisses to them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He croaked and intertwined his fingers with yours with such a force that his knuckles grew white. He begged for your forgiveness, bathed in your light to douse his sinful acts. For you must have been a saint to not have casted him out by now.

He kept apologizing because there was nothing else he could do. He lamented that he wasn’t quick enough. That their last moments were spent in agony and terror. That their deaths not only affected him but you as well.

Your limbs were entangled and foreheads were buried in shoulders for an uncountable amount of time. The two of you slowly dragged one another out of the suffocating mud of the expedition and into the present moment. When tears had dried and embraces grown less feverous, you spoke up.  

“Erwin is allowing me to go home for a few days.” You announced with a sad smile.

Levi hummed weakly as he ghosted his fingers along your scalp.

“Do you want to come with me?” Your invite hung on the air as Levi contemplated. He felt bad denying you but there was no way he would be able to face your family right now. That may have been selfish of him, but he just couldn’t.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you craned your neck to regard him. You understood his silence and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Okay.” You kissed at the spot where his neck met his collarbone.

↞♞♘↠

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Was all that Levi could manage to say. He didn’t know how to make any apology enough for her grandchild’s absence. He felt disgust rise like bile in this throat all over again.

Oma nodded at his condolences and hid her lingering sadness behind seasoned professionalism.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to you too. You lost her just like the rest of us.” She responded with a mature kindness that made Levi want to poke his eyes out with self-loathing. If the loss hurt him beyond belief, he would never be able to know the extent of Oma’s pain, your pain, and Petra’s parents’ pain.

“I can see that you blame yourself.” Oma inferred with a caring tone. Levi’s hardened gaze remained on the table.

“I know what it’s like to lead a squadron. I know the helpless feeling of someone slipping through your fingers too quickly to catch them.” Oma consoled with a genuine seriousness that made Levi’s eyes flick up to hers. She sighed and placed her tea cup down.

Levi didn’t move as she scooched closer to place a hand over his. His fingers twitched at the calloused pads of her withered hand encircled his.

“It was one year into my promotion to a unit captain. I remember that day so vividly; the bitter smell of the canon smoke mixing with Hannes’ ripe gin, the way the wind gently rocked the trees just over wall Maria, the remnants of my throbbing hangover from the previous night’s excursions."

“I had ordered my unit to scale along the wall and raise the new cannons that had been provided the day prior while I joined Pixis at the guard post. We were having our daily banter when a thunderous quaking assaulted our ears and gave us whiplash with how fast we turned towards the wall. A hoard of titans, many of them abnormals, were rushing towards Wall Maria.”

“We had never experienced an attack so fierce, so alarmingly abrupt. My legs couldn’t carry me quickly enough to my unit before the fuckers started hurling themselves at the wall. The clash of skulls against the structure was deafening. Some of my soldiers decided to ascend, to fight them atop the wall and blast their brains out with the cannons. Others decided to take their chances at slashing their necks. However, the ladder couldn’t compete with the assault and soon their screams morphed into stains on stone.”

“After the attack, I too bashed my skull with guilt and regret. If only I had just waited to assign them to that job. What if instead, I told them to take care of the already positioned cannons. But would it have really made any difference? I’ve come to realize I couldn’t have ever anticipated a horror like that.” Oma’s eyes glazed over in sour memory.

“My point is, you can’t dwell on the what-ifs because that’s not how life went or ever will. You have to live with what life gives-and takes-from you.” Oma continued, holding Levi’s stare with one elderly compassion.

“You led them and inspired them to take action. Their sacrifices were just that; sacrifices they were willing to take for something they believed in.”

As she spoke, acute darts dripped in his squad’s long dried blood threatened to pierce the shield he had built up to their intrusions. But her kind words warded them off almost immediately and Levi felt more relieved than he could ever express to hear her sympathy.

“I’m sure you know it never truly goes away. But forgiving yourself for something that was out of your control dulls the sharpness of that blade.” She smiled flatly with soft eyes.

Listening to her story and feeling her presence sparked an understanding in Levi so deep that it felt foreign to him. It wasn’t the surface level sympathy usually set unto him by his comrades. Nor the solace and empathy you provided him. With Oma it was raw, unaltered. She had seemed to mine his soul and recover a luminous diamond out of the charcoal.

She brewed this sensation within him that peeled away the murky veil of his role of a steely captain. Underneath resided a more youthful soldier who still had much to conquer and learn. He realized he wasn’t actually as aged as he was required to act.

The hectic scenarios that had wracked his mind since he arrived at her doorstep were blown away with the gentle breath of her rapport. He squeezed her hand, instantly feeling her squeeze back.

“Thank you. That...means a lot.” He said as the ice on his brow melted. Oma grinned at his instant brightness, clearly pleased that she had managed to crack through his shell.

“What is it?” She asked with a wispy chuckle as she observed Levi’s minute crescent smile.

“Y/N gave me similar advice after it happened.” He confessed, feeling lighter than he had in years.

“Well, good. Means I raised her well.” Oma smirked fondly. She let go of his hand to uptake her tea cup once again.

“I would never let anything happen to Y/N.” Levi professed as he finally grabbed his tea as well. His grip tightened on his cup as if holding it sturdily cemented his promise. Oma’s grin widened at his dedication as they locked eyes once more.

“We are all responsible for ourselves, and all we can do for others is try our best to protect them. You have done just that, son.” She said after a hearty swig of her drink.

“You’ve been so good to both my girls, whether you see it or not. That’s all I could ever dream of in a superior officer, a friend, and a partner.”

Her heartwarming comment did exactly that to Levi. Except instead of blanketing him with a gentle heat it burned his chest all at once. The fire was so powerful that Levi couldn’t subdue the genuine smile that infiltrated his features. It widened his cheeks and parted his chapped lips in a beautiful display of appreciation.

Oma’s eyes widened and she coughed as her sip of tea almost slid down the wrong pipe.

“It’s a shame Y/N only gets to see those smiles.” Her wheeze was followed by a cackle. Her teasing made him roll his eyes but his smile didn’t diminish.

“Don’t tell her or she’ll think I’ve gone soft.” He chuckled himself as rich as the umber liquid in his cup. Oma winked as she took another sip.

“You know, I would have liked to have met you at Petra’s funeral but there wasn’t one. Her mother insisted on keeping things private.” Oma explained with a long exhale. Levi did recall you talking to him about that. Petra’s parents lived quite a distance away from you and Oma and became more private as the two of you grew up.

Levi nodded and pursed his lips. He definitely wouldn’t have been in the right mental space for that. Oma noted his silence and as if afraid he was going to creep back into his iron guard, sighed in contentment.

“I was so proud that she joined your squad.” She was basked in a lovely nostalgic glow as she mused.

“She looked delicate and slight but Petra had a fire in her like I’ve never seen in anyone else.”

“She did.” Levi agreed. His eyes fell to the fireplace as he traced his finger along the ivory rim of his cup. “She was one of the most skilled soldiers I’ve known.”

Oma hummed in agreement.

“Petra spoke so highly of you, you were truly her role model. She was ecstatic when you and Y/N got together. Couldn’t think of a better person for her little cousin.” Oma praised with the enthusiasm of a proud relative.

Levi let out an awkward huff and shook his head lightly as he brought his cup to his lips.

“You know she’s the reason Y/N wanted to join the corps?”

↞♞♘↠

The sun hung low in the sky when Levi’s squad found themselves lazily lounging at one of the picnic tables that framed the sparring area.  

“The cadets are going to arrive next week.” Gunther commented idly.

“Yes! My younger cousin is going to be joining the 104th class.” Petra beamed, clearly proud of her relative.

“Another cadet with your same beautiful genes? I can’t wait.” Oluo winked and Petra pursed her lips in unamusement.

“Keep it in your pants, Oluo. Or are you hitting on girls you haven’t even met yet?” Eld chided with a smirk.

“How do you feel about her joining, Petra?” Eld asked more seriously.  

“While I’m a bit bittersweet about it, I couldn’t think of another person more capable to be a new recruit.” Petra smiled sadly yet her eyes held excitement at being reunited with her kin.

“Hm, seems like the military runs in your family.” Levi commented, rolling his head against his shoulders to offer a loud crack.

“Yeah, Oma hated it when I joined so I bet she despised it when Y/N decided to fly the nest too.” Petra giggled with the lightness of a sparrow taking flight. A boisterous boom followed by an aggressive order caused the party to direct their attention to the arena.

“And so the hellscape is raised once again.” Gunther nodded to where Shadis was noisily instructing soldiers on where to place the cadet training equipment.

“The stick that’s within his ass imbeds itself deeper each year.” Eld yawned and stretched.

“I’ll be there to fight for her if he takes it too far.” Petra boasted in determination. Her declaration was fiery but her delicate features softened the promise. The special operations squad knew all too well, though, not to underestimate the strength that resided under that cute exterior.

“Hazing is part of the cadet experience.” Gunther shrugged.

“Need to get the nerves burning hot somehow.” Eld added.

“Oh come on, you guys are horrible!” Petra huffed.  

“I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of-” Oluo passionately interjected.

“That’s not necessary.” Petra cut him off with a jab to the ribs.

“You’ll back me up, right Levi?” She looked to their captain expectantly while Oluo's groans grew in pitch.

Levi shrugged in indifference. However the way Petra’s eyes glinted with eagerness made him more inclined to agree.

“If she’s not a brat.”

Petra threw him a pout as the crew’s light-hearted jokes floated up to meet the chromatic tendrils of the evening sky.

[mk-wizard]

The Missing Mothers of Transformers Part 2

Hello again, Transformers fans.

This is part two on the fan theory of whatever happened to the two missing mothers of Transformers. Mrs. Witwicky and Mrs. Burns. The first half which discusses what happened to Mrs. Witwicky is here. This half discusses what happened to Mrs. Burns.

I would also like to warn in advance that this fan theory analysis will be sad and I will try to be as sensitive as I can be to all of the people out there whose mothers are not with them anymore.

Now, onto the theory. Unlike Mrs. Witwicky, there are no official records anywhere which states whether Chief Charlie Burns is a widower or a divorcee. It is just very obvious that he is a single dad whose wife is for some reason not in the picture. The Chief seems to have adapted well to this role as he keeps an orderly house, he has raised his kids well and is one heck of a cook. He also seems to be open to meeting someone new as he had a developed a crush on someone at one point. I also have to say from the POV of a wife, Charlie Burns is a catch of a husband and father. With that said, his wife is missing from the family for only two reasons. Either she died sometime when Cody was a baby or she just up and left the family when Cody was a baby.

Considering the kind of guy Chief Burns is like, it is very likely that he was responsible enough to marry a good woman who didn’t leave the picture by choice. However, I doubt she died in a rescue accident because he still allows his own kids to be rescue workers and he is not overly protective of Cody. If Mrs. Burns did die during a rescue operation, I think such trauma would have been addressed in the show or there would have at least been an episode dealing with it. With that said, I think it is more likely that Mrs. Burns died of a sickness she came down with after the birth of Cody. Considering she was around long enough to have four kids, it is very likely that she was forced to leave the picture. Now, as to which disease it was, I have no idea. And as much as I hate to be a downer, this is the more ideal theory as to what happened to Mrs. Burns.

However, if we are going to go by the second theory, I have to say that it is unlikely, but not unheard of for one parent to up and walk out on the family even after so many years together. And considering that Rescue Bots takes place during modern day times in which divorce is not so taboo anymore, that possibility does exist. Plus, with the way Chief Burns speaks so kindly and warmly about all his friends and family, he doesn’t ever bring up his missing wife. I also have to point out that for such a devoted family man with wholesome traditional family values, he doesn’t wear his wedding band. I can understand that Sparkplug didn’t wear his wedding band because his work required him to use his hands a lot, but Charlie Burns is a cop. If he really was a widower, wouldn’t it be more likely that am old fashioned guy like him would still wear his wedding band? It’s tough for me to say this, but when a guy like Charlie isn’t wearing his wedding band anymore, it usually means that the marriage didn’t end well. We never see a single picture of her anywhere and we have seen pictures of the family in home.

I really hate saying this, but considering the evidence, I think it is very likely that Mrs. Burns and him had a divorce in which she just left her family entirely. Like I said, it is not unheard of for a spouse to do that even after having a lot of kids together. While Charlie is as good as they come and probably did his best to choose the right woman to be his wife and the mother of his kids, it doesn’t mean he chose as well as he thought he did. As dark as this sounds, considering how good Charlie is at keeping it all together on his own, the finger is pointing very sharply at the likelihood that he was keeping it together on his own even while his wife was around. Maybe his wife wasn’t such a great person hence why nobody not even the older kids talk about her or show any signs of missing her all that much. In fact, they don’t even have momentos of her. I also want to throw out there that Dani is not very feminine which tells me that even being the only girl, she wasn’t close to her mother. The only girly thing she owns is a pink elephant which we find out wasn’t given to her by her mother. I also should note that the way Kade approaches women is not the way Charlie would which tells me that he deems his father’s way not right after seeing how his parents’ marriage was like. Kade seems to believe he needs to play a dominant role in order for the relationship to be happy.

Unlike Sparkplug’s marriage, I think Charlie’s marriage was problematic and his wife just up and left either because she got tired of everything or perhaps knowing Charlie, he outright threw her out because she became a toxic presence in the family. And honestly, considering how gutsy Chief Burns is like, I honestly wouldn’t put it past him to become fed up and throw her butt out if she really was as awful as the theory suggests. As for what she did to make it get that far and how bad she was, I don’t know. All I can say is that I do think it is more likely that Charlie is most likely divorced and his wife never stayed in touch with the family nor does she seem to be missed.

I have seen divorced families like the Burns family hence why I am drawing this theory up, but I just want to make it clear that even if it is true, it doesn’t mean the Burns family isn’t a happy one now. Like I said, Charlie is a champion single dad. And honestly, I don’t think it is necessarily a bad thing if ex-Mrs. Burns was a bad woman because survivors of bad marriages and families who had a walkaway parent need to be represented in the media. And if the Burns are a family that had a walkway mother, they are positive representation in how they recovered from it. Believe me, some families in their position are left in way worse positions.

At least this is my theory. I want to know what you all think of it and what you think may have happened to Mrs. Burns. I do hope I remained sensitive to the subject.

This fan theory was a request on behalf of @ lolipop192089.

If you have a Transformers theory or character analysis you want explored, please let me know in my ask box. And please, support me through Patreon or Ko-fi if you want me to make Transformers merch and videos. Or if you want a commission of your favourite bot, let me know in my shop. All links are on my profile page.

Thank you for reading and please, stay safe.

[chestnut-b]

Himawari Chapter 10

“Is he happy there, Kakashi?” Sarutobi asked.

The man had looked oddly sheepish.

“Frankly, if I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t have thought we were talking about the same person.”

Then Kakashi cast his gaze down in thought. Looking up again, his eye turned into a thin crescent.

“When he’s with the children, you couldn’t tear the smile off his face even if you tried.”

Chapter 10 of a Demon Slayer AU

“Please make yourself comfortable, Hatake-dono. I’m afraid the Master was called on some urgent business, but will be returning shortly.” 

The servant bowed apologetically, and left Kakashi, who had just arrived at the Sarutobi estate, to his devices. 

The former Flame Hashira was one of the lucky few who had lived to retire, with most of his parts intact, having lost only a leg vanquishing an Upper Moon demon. After he was sure the performance of his successor and students were satisfactory, he’d taken the ridiculous salary afforded to his position, and charted what was one of the first expeditions West by ship. For all his worldliness, Sarutobi was soon dubbed ‘The Professor’.

The collection of paraphernalia and tomes from his years abroad was proudly displayed in the room he favoured for entertaining guests, and Kakashi was only too happy to browse. 

Grabbing the nearest book, curiously bound in animal hide, he found it unsurprisingly filled with words foreign to him. The illustrations; of man-bull beasts, winged men, one-eyed cyclops’, of ships rocked against cliffs, all seemed to depict epic myths and cautionary tales. 

Between its pages were several loose sheets of paper, and as soon as his eyes settled on the writings, his lips quirked into a smile.

The language, familiar. The handwriting, even more so. 

Ever the studious one...

He could easily see a younger Iruka listening intently to Sarutobi narrate these fantastical tales, enthusiastically writing these down for his own future references. Browsing through the notes, it seemed the book was about ancient mythology, of civilisations long past. 

He closed the book, not wanting to deny himself a chance to quiz the teacher about it later.

Kakashi turned his attention to a shelf along the edge of the room, lined with framed pictures. Products of one of the more fascinating curiosities Sarutobi had returned with. The first time he’d had his photo taken, it was on his last visit here together with his Father. A camera, he’d called it. 

Among the photographs one seemed to draw his attention. A grinning boy, and a young child with dark eyes, sporting the traditional doll-like hairstyle, dressed in kimono woven with wisteria motifs typically worn by the Senju girls. 

Before he could conjure any particular thoughts about it, he heard a happy giggle from the corridor. He turned to see a brown-haired toddler staring at him from the doorway. His appearance was followed by the sound of mismatched footsteps, and the child was quickly scooped up from the floor, into the arms of the person who had summoned Kakashi in the first place.

“Excuse my lateness, Kakashi, I had some troublesome things to attend to.” The master of the house called for a servant, and one came running in, taking the baby from his arms and retreating just as quickly. 

Soon, he was sitting on the tatami floor with a cup of tea before him. Sarutobi always took pleasure in the ritual, something Iruka had obviously inherited from his master. Kakashi wasn’t nearly as fond of it, but the grateful smile that usually followed his efforts was not something he disliked.

“I appreciate you taking the time for the detour.” The elder started, reaching for his pipe. “How is Oyakata-sama?” 

Still alive, for some reason. Is what he would have liked to say, but Kakashi was here on a little mission of his own, and so he reconsidered.

“His condition was not as favourable as it was on my last visit, I’m afraid. But it’s been nearly a year since I’ve seen him, things might have changed.” Kakashi replied. Sarutobi’s brows furrowed unhappily.

“That is unfortunate to hear, but I suppose it is unavoidable. Tell me Kakashi, how fares that foolish student of mine?”

He’d expected a little more fondness, and a little less frustration. It only served to prick at his curiosity. 

“Iruka seems to be managing just fine.” He said jovially. “Last he wrote, he was having some fun with gunpowder.” There was a series of coughs, and the smoke made his own nose itch, but he resisted the urge to react. 

When he recovered, he flashed Kakashi a considering look, but instead of asking what he really wanted to, he grunted. 

“Trouble and him are never far apart, as usual.”

“It is as you say.” Kakashi followed, secretly hoping for him to divulge a little more.

Sarutobi directed his attention past Kakashi, towards the rock garden beyond the room, bathed in afternoon sun. The troubled look on his face erased any doubts that he was recalling something unpleasant.

“Iruka has already told you most of it, I presume.” Kakashi nodded, affirming his suspicions. There was a deep, long sigh. 

“It’s been nearly three years since he left here with Naruto, and frankly, I still get ulcers thinking about it.” 

“Then why let him go?” 

“Hmph, you think I wanted to? Of course not.” He scoffed, taking another drag of his pipe. “I thought he would have moved past it, but his reaction ended up being inexcusable. Still too impulsive, too hot-headed.” 

Kakashi thought of the person he’d come to know. On the surface; easy smiles and laughs, a warm hand. Sincere.

But then he remembered the flickers of darkness, the wildness of his gaze, barely reined in when it was directed at Kakashi one night, but completely unbridled when he’d met the demon in the cave. The teacher had known full well Kakashi was there, he could have requested help and spared himself further danger and potential injury, but chose not to. 

He’d seen many warriors in his time, and the need to prove oneself was something he’d witnessed again and again. They didn’t always survive it.

“That much I told him. I suggested he return to the Senju where his skills would be of some use, and what does he do? He proceeds to prove my point!” Sarutobi seethed, and Kakashi waited with bated breath. 

“The fool steals a horse, disappears for a month, and comes back near death with that scar on his face, and a complete map of the forest, Gods!” 

If Kakashi weren’t himself, he’d be smiling, rubbing his hands together while urging him to continue, but he figured he’d have a lot to answer for if their meeting had induced an aneurysm. 

His friend would be most unhappy, and not in the fun way.

With a cool look that belied his interest, he took a sip of tea. 

A few minutes passed, and several drags of a pipe later, the elder had calmed down, somewhat.

“So you did too good of a job, perhaps.”

It induced a regretful sigh. The man got up from his seat with practiced ease, despite the wooden prosthetic. He walked towards the shelf of photographs, and stood nearly in the same spot Kakashi had. He was even looking at the same photograph, he realised.

“This is not what his parents intended for him.” 

It was subtle, but he could feel Sarutobi’s heckles rising as he stared at the photo. 

Kakashi recalled the Senju girl in the photograph. Familiar dark eyes. His mother, perhaps? He could see the resemblance. But he quickly realised his mistake; there was no way it could be her. At that age, Sarutobi hadn’t yet acquired his camera. The boy’s grin was familiar too, and in hindsight, obviously belonged to that of a Sarutobi. So who-

“Asuma was a terrible influence.”

Ohhh.

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

“I trust you’ll make sure these reach him, Kakashi.”

“Why of course, the Hashira Delivery Service always comes through.” Kakashi murmured as he finished securing his sandals, furoshiki tied and slung across his shoulder. 

“Hmph. Make sure the demons don’t get your tongue, boy. Unlike theirs, ours don’t grow back.”

Kakashi stood to take his leave, but Sarutobi quickly retreated back into the room. He began to rummage through one of the more well hidden cabinets, and having found what he was looking for, emerged once again. 

“There is a saying in the West, you know,” 

Kakashi turned to face the man.

“Care will kill a cat.” 

“Oh, I suppose it’s a good thing I’ve always been more of a dog person.”

“I wasn’t referring only to you.”

Sarutobi continued. 

“I’d ask you to be a friend to him, Kakashi, but it seems you already are. You have my thanks.”

“None necessary, really. I happen to enjoy his company.” 

There was a laugh, and it disturbed Kakashi somewhat, to see Sarutobi smile at him so smugly. The elder held up whatever it was that he’d fished out, and Kakashi took it from his calloused hand.

Almost against his will, his gaze softened.

What could only be a younger Iruka, his features just a bit rounder, cradling a sleeping Naruto in his arms. The toddler was dressed in more clothes than he’d probably ever been in, and was obviously spent. If Kakashi wagered a guess, they’d just returned from receiving the blessings for his third year of life at the temple. 

To anyone else, it was a sweet, touching momento. A pair of mismatched brothers, on a memorable day.

To anyone who knew the story, it was...complicated.

Set in the garden during the day, implied that it’d been taken not long after the youth had learnt of Naruto’s true nature, and just over a month past the anniversary of his parents’ deaths.

Iruka’s visage still lacked the distinct scar that highlighted his eyes; the line that moved like a wave on the shore in tandem with his ever-changing expression. But unlike the smiling self that Kakashi had come to naturally associate him with, the boy in the photograph was looking upon the child’s sleeping face with an almost unreadable expression. 

Vaguely, it brought to mind the portrait of a merciful, motherly deity. 

His eyes were warm, yet burdened with melancholy.

Kakashi recalled Iruka’s confession, as he recounted everything he’d lost, and later lived for.

Looking at the scene, it made something in his chest ache.

“Are you sure about this one? Might be a bit of a downer, you know, considering everything else.” Kakashi asked cautiously.

Sarutobi did not rescind. 

“Tell that foolish son of mine, not to lose his way.”

“Which one?”

“Both, if you happen to see the other one.”

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

Sarutobi watched from the gate as Kakashi left the estate with his hound.

“Well, you might not need to worry about that. Iruka’s probably got the best sense of direction I know of.” The Hashira had said without turning back.

Yes, but tunnel vision is a fearsome thing. 

He felt a tug on the sleeve of his haori, and looked down to see Konohamaru gazing up at him. Once again, he scooped the toddler into his arms.

The boy sends you and Konohamaru his regards, sensei. 

He remembered his meeting with Jiraiya seasons prior. His former disciple had arrived with news that only added to his worry for his two former charges, along with Iruka’s specific request in writing not to divulge any of it to Kakashi.

Frankly, he did not know why he was agreeing to it at all.

Carrying his grandson back into the guest room, his gaze settled again on a single photograph, to a pair of eyes that were once free of the terrible burden of loss and guilt.

He wondered what they looked like now. 

After a newborn Naruto had been delivered to him, he’d searched everywhere for Iruka, but there wasn’t a trace left amidst the chaos and destruction. He’d spent a year thinking he’d failed Kohari, who’d been like a daughter to him, and Ikkaku’s empty scabbard, delivered by the Kakushi, loomed over his conscience like a phantom.

Then came a cold autumn day; a boy arrived at his doorstep, clothes threadbare and mangled with tears, and without so much as a pair of sandals on his feet. Almost unrecognisable, if not for the nichirin blade he carried, rusted and chipped, and a kunai hanging at his waist. 

“Now that I’ve been left behind, what should I do, Jii-ya?”

His eyes then were devastatingly hollow.

It was a memory so vivid, the bitterness was still palpable in his throat. When Iruka had accepted his proposal to stay with him as his student, he’d stopped calling him “Jii-ya”, as his mother did when she wanted to tease him.

He’d never told him, but the day they’d found out about Naruto’s immunity to the sun, Sarutobi had been ready to commit seppuku for having allowed it to go that far. If not for Hashirama’s intervention, he wasn’t sure if they’d both be alive today, with him carrying Konohamaru in his arms like he was doing now.

“Sensei, please allow me to go with Naruto!” 

Soon after, upon hearing Naruto would be sent to the Forest of Death, he had barged in, pleading desperately with his forehead glued to the ground, but he’d been staunchly, repeatedly denied. The eyes that looked at him held the same terrible hollowness, just as the day he’d learned of Naruto’s origin.

It was the look of someone who’d been once again, stripped of a reason to live.

A month passed. 

When he’d ran, stumbling, to Iruka, collapsed outside the estate near death in a slayer’s uniform that was clearly too large on him, his eyes were gilded with a fierce determination he’d not known the boy was capable of. 

They burned, just like Kohari’s had when she told him they had deserted.

“There has to be...some reason why I’m still alive, sensei. Let me stay by his side, please.”

He was utterly defeated. It was the moment he knew he’d have to let go.

“Is he happy there, Kakashi?” 

The man had looked oddly sheepish.

“Frankly, if I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t have thought we were talking about the same person.”

Then Kakashi cast his gaze down in thought. Looking up again, his eye turned into a thin crescent.

“When he’s with the children, you couldn’t tear the smile off his face even if you tried.”

That alone was worth having called the young Hashira here. 

He looked at Konohamaru, who had fallen asleep in the nook of his neck, much like in the photo he’d sent along. 

It brought back memories of a time when he’d carried Iruka like that too.

Take care of that foolish child of mine, Kakashi.

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End of Chapter 10

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Author’s Notes:

Ohh, another fun chapter to write! I can’t wait for Asuma to get in here (though it won’t be for another 2 chapters or so). I really wanted to explore the relationship between Sarutobi, Iruka and Naruto more, so I was quite satisfied with this. 

As usual, I’d love to hear what you think! Is it moving too slow? This is all very self-indulgent, I know, haha. 

See you in the next chapter!

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Fun facts and Terminology:

Shichi-Go-San (7-5-3) Festival

In Japan, ages 7,5,3 have always been celebrated as prosperous milestones for children to have reached, even way past in the Heian period. They’re dressed up and brought to the temple to receive blessings. It falls on 15 November, and Naruto’s Birthday (and by extension, Iruka’s Parents’ death anniversary) are in October. So yeah, just over a month between them.

“Care will kill a cat.” 

The origin of the phrase “Curiousity will kill a cat”. I didn’t want to use it in that exact phrasing here (it also wasn’t recorded till 1868, which is a bit later than the setting of this story anyway) 

In this case, care = “worry” or “sorrow for others”.

I felt it fitting for both Iruka and Kakashi. :D

Jiiya - An affectionate way of referring to elderly men. Kinda like “Gramps”

Photography/Cameras - The first camera was imported into Japan in 1848 through a Dutch Port. The story takes place a few years earlier than that (more or less)

[esuemmanuel]

Cerré la puerta con la llave dentro. Cerré la puerta con el pensamiento de no volverla a abrir, porque no necesitaba ya nada de esa habitación en la que viví encerrado tanto tiempo. Cerré la puerta con la promesa de no pasar ya jamás por el corredor que la albergaba, me olvidé del número y del piso en el que estaba.

Caminé tanto --he caminado-- que dejé atrás el recuerdo de mi estancia en ese hotel vacío de razón. En mi paso por las calles, fui grabándome el aroma de la tierra mojada que iba impregnando mi andar, al mismo tiempo que la brisa me colmaba de tranquilidad. Fueron fragmentos de vidas e historias concebidas en un momento atiborrado de eternidades divididas. Había sido tantos que perdí el significado de mi nombre y la memoria de mi rostro; estaba vacío de mí.

Me olvidé, también, de buscarme... de hacerme cargo de mi personalidad dominante... de mi voz que ya no escuchaba... de mi perfume que ya no alcanzaba a llegar a mi nariz... del propósito de mi vida. Me olvidé de todo lo que había en mis manos, en mis venas, en mis sienes entumecidas hasta quedar en blanco.

Una vez que tomé una hoja, renuncié a reescribirme... Ya no era necesario hacerlo... Me había recuperado.

Sonreí.

---

I locked the door with the key inside. I closed the door with the thought of not opening it again, because I no longer needed anything from that room in which I had been locked up for so long. I closed the door with the promise of never going through the corridor that housed it, I forgot the number and the floor where I was.

I walked so much - I have walked - that I left behind the memory of my stay in that hotel devoid of reason. In my passage through the streets, I was recording the aroma of the wet earth that was permeating my walk, at the same time that the breeze filled me with tranquility. They were fragments of lives and stories conceived in a moment crammed with divided eternities. There had been so many that I lost the meaning of my name and the memory of my face; it was empty of me.

I also forgot to look for myself... to take charge of my dominant personality... of my voice that I no longer heard... of my perfume that could no longer reach my nose... of my life purpose . I forgot everything that was in my hands, in my veins, in my temples numb to white.

Once I took a sheet, I gave up rewriting... It was no longer necessary... I had recovered.

I smiled.

— Esu Emmanuel©