#it was so cold there were young and elderly there as well as who knows how many people with invisible disabilities (myself include)

[plushri]

As promised, my post on the lobby yesterday

Over 3000 showed up to lobby their member of Parliament and urge them to vote for the Scottish National Party's motion for an immediate ceasefire, to replace the current government motion for a stop of humanitarian aid.

The motion did not pass, in fact it did not even get voted on. Which is what the MPs came there to do.

"As the war in Gaza continues to cause death, destruction, and terror, with over 30,000 people reported dead so far, British MPs couldn't even decide how to decide what they think about it"

The thousands of people who waited outside Parliament were left in the wind and rain with no explanation, as security let very few of us in. I was there 3 hours and got nowhere near the front, people AT the front said they did not get in. The MPs knew we came to lobby. We have a right to lobby and speak to our MPs. We organised and showed up in our thousands, but Parliament didn't accomplish anything. What is the state of democracy in this country?

People of the UK, KEEP SHOWING UP FOR PALESTINE. Make the national demonstration on Saturday 9th March the biggest so far. Spread the word of it everywhere, encourage people you know to show up.

Our government is pathetic and spineless and they are panicking under our pressure. ONE HUNDRED (!) Labour MPs were planning to rebel against their leader and vote for immediate ceasefire. Do not let up.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— the haunting nightmares of the past | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

here's a piece of angst for you all to read.

thanks to @alotofpockets for her help a long the way with this one.

summary: the anniversary of monkey's dad's death causes a lot of bad memories of the past to resurface.

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x jordan nobbs x reader!buddy

warnings: talks of past childhood abuse and a lot of heavy angst

"Happy birthday to me," You whispered to yourself, your small voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. 

You sat alone at the table, a card propped up in front of you that had been given to you by a kind elderly lady who lived next door when you returned home from school. 

You jumped in fear as you heard the front door slam shut, feeling yourself tremble as his footsteps neared. 

"Make yourself useful, girl," Your father demanded through slurred speech, cutting the previous silence in the house, you know he'd clearly been down to the pub after work, "What is this?" He eyed the card on the table angrily. 

You trembled with a sense of fear as he picked up and read over the words briefly, "It's... It's a birthday card, Dad," You said as you watched him tear it in half without even thinking and dump it in the bin.

"Birthday card?" Your fathers' voice sneered in disgust, "You don't deserve one of them, you're nothing but a burden in my life!" His words were venomous and your heart sank even more. 

"But... But everyone has a birthday," Your voice was quiet, afraid of his next move, "I'm ten this year, remember?" You couldn’t help the excitement in your voice, you were a young and innocent girl.

"Oh, really?" Your dad wondered, turning to face you while his words seemed more calmer than usual, "Well then I'd better give you your birthday present then, birthday girl." 

You couldn't help but allow your eyes to light up but that was soon disregarded as the man raised his hand, the sound of his slap against your cheek echoing through the room. 

"There's your birthday present," Your dad sneered with pure venom in his voice, "Now make yourself fuckin' useful and grab me another beer!" With his words sharp and demanding, you scurried over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of beer to hand to him, "Good, at least you can do that. Now get the fuck out of my sight, brat!"

You wake up startled, gasping for breath while your heart pounded in your chest while drenched in a somewhat cold sweat. The remnants of the nightmare of your tenth birthday clung in your mind, so vivid that you remember it just like it was yesterday.

You were beaten that night by a man who you once called your father, it was a memorable birthday for all the wrong reasons.

It was also the birthday that you learnt to never ask to celebrate again.

It’s one of the reasons why you never like to celebrate your birthday, you dread the day completely and want nothing more than to hide away in your bedroom.

Leah and Jordan both found out about that the hard way, but that’s a story to tell another day.

“Stupid damn nightmares,” You mumble to yourself, exhaling a sigh as you take a quick glance at the time on your phone, the words lighting up in white as a faint reminder of the date that it was.

It was the anniversary of the day that your dad died, a whole year ago today.It should have been the day that brought you a sense of relief but you just felt even further lost instead.

Doubtful of being able to sleep again, you sit up in bed and make use of your time by scrolling through your phone until the sun starts to come up, or your favourite little buddy wakes up.

Only a few more hours to wait at least.

You didn’t want to sleep, more so you were afraid of the recurring nightmares that haunt you.

It always seems to be the same one, the stark reminder of your dad towering over you while you tremble in fear in the corner, you wish you could just block it all from your memory.

Oh, if only that was so easy to do so.

You never actually went to the man’s funeral, instead you sat curled up in a heap of blankets and watched your favourite movie with your favourite little buddy.

It was much better than sitting inside a church, surrounded by distant family members who would murmur how sorry they were for his loss.

You weren’t though, you were glad he was dead. You knew he couldn’t hurt you now, you were safe.

“So, we’ve got the day off today,” Leah starts the conversation as you sit in the kitchen the following morning, a bowl of cereal in front of you as you fight to stay awake, “I was thinking that we could go to the park, perhaps?”

You wish you could say you were paying more attention to the blonde but you’re tired and nothing is really going in your head right now.

You feel completely exhausted, the lack of sleep every single night is catching up on you now.

“Monkey! Monkey!” Buddy’s little hands grip onto your arm to try and get your attention, “Will you play with me?”She asks, sweetly.

You want to say yes, however you're just so tired that you want to do nothing more than go back to sleep, but even so you're afraid to do that because the nightmares that plague your memory.

Every single night, that same nightmare.

It’s haunting.

“Maybe a bit later, okay? I’m not… I’m not feeling great,” You admit to the 3 year old.

Of course you know she won’t understand why you feel so sad today, but you can’t cry in front of her. It’s not right.

“Why are you sad?” Buddy questions, confused.

You don’t answer her directly as you gently lift her up to sit her on your lap and show interest in her bear that she has in her hand as you just cuddle her.

“How about we take a trip to the park? It’s a nice day,” Leah repeats, “What do you girls think about that?” She asks.

“Park, Mummy!” Buddy squeals in agreement.

Leah smiles at her mini me’s excitement as she looks at you, “How do you feel about going to the park? It would be a good chance to take Tate for a walk as well,” She gestures to the puppy asleep in his new bed, “Earth to Monkey?” She waves her hand in your face to get your attention.

“Huh,” You jolt in surprise at the hand in front of your face, “What’re we talking about?”

“I was just saying it’s a nice day to go to the park,” Leah repeats her words as she sees your attention is elsewhere, “Monkey, are you okay? You look like you’re ready to fall asleep in your breakfast,” she notes.

“Oh uh yeah, I’m fine,” You stifle a yawn as you nod, “Guess I’m just a bit tired, Le,” You admit to the blonde, starting to pick at the skin around your nails.

Leah tilts her head to the side and frowns in concern, “You’re not sleeping, again?” She questions, knowingly as you bite your bottom lip, hesitant to speak while there's a presence of a 3 year old who doesn’t need to listen to this conversation, “Buddy? Sweetheart, why don’t you go and play with your toys in the living room?” She suggests.

“Okay,” Your favourite little buddy is so eager to agree as she carefully slides herself off your lap and toddles into the living room to allow you two to talk.

You’re grateful for that, you don’t want Buddy to hear about this stuff. She’s too innocent for it.

“What’s goin’ on Monkey?” The blonde questions, concerned as she moves to sit in the seat beside you, “You’re not sleeping?” She repeats.

“No, no, I mean… I try but I just keep on having this stupid recurring nightmare,” You admit quietly, trying to not make it a big deal, “I’m afraid to sleep,” 

“Oh, Monkey,” Leah murmurs in sadness as she leans forward and moves a stray piece of hair out of your face, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” She wonders.

“Dunno,” You confess as you shrug your shoulders.

The blonde exhales a sigh as she smiles sympathetically, “You know I’m here for you, my girl,” She reassures you, “Do you remember when I made that promise all those years ago? I still mean every single word that I said to this day,”

You know that you can trust Leah, she’s safe.

When your dad died last year, you had already been living with Leah, and Jordan as well for quite some time, and the two of them knew everything that happened in the past.

You never had the intention to ever tell either one of them about it though, but they found out one day by accident and you just ended up coming clean.

You told them everything, the couple were people that you felt you could trust. Sure it took a bit to warm up to them at first in a new housing environment, but you had known both of them for years.

You did trust both of them to some extent.

Leah had an aura of calmness around her that you feel safe, it made you open up and tell her what happened.

Her words that he told you do still stick in your brain, even to do this day.

“Ha, I win. Again!” 15 year old you exclaimed, pointing your index finger at Jordan while the two of you were playing Fifa.

So far the score was one-sided, 7 - 1.

Jordan was losing the game terribly.

“What,” The woman groaned in annoyance, “Are you sure you’re not cheating, little one?” She questioned in disbelief about the score.

“Please, how can you cheat at this game?” You couldn’t help but giggle, “I win, fair and square. Sucks to be a loser!” You still wound the woman up.

“I’m not a loser– You’re definitely cheating!” Jordan was quick to fire back and playfully scowled at you from where she sat on the sofa.

“When you two are finished squabbling,” A heavily pregnant Leah appeared in the doorway of the living room with an amused look on her face, “Dinners’ ready.” She stated.

The blonde had your attention at the mention of food, “What’re we havin’?” You wondered.

It was a known fact that Leah couldn’t cook all that well, usually sticking to sticking frozen food in the oven at her convenience.

“You’ll find out when you come and sit down at the table, won’t you?” Leah told you playfully as she looked at the telly, “Really, Jord? Are you letting her win, willingly?” She joked.

“I am not, the little one is good,” Jordan mumbled in disagreement, placing her controller down on the coffee table in front, “Come on kid, let’s go and eat dinner,” She gestured for you to follow.

“But we’re in the middle of a game!” You couldn’t help but whine.

“And the game will still be here when you’re finished,” Leah remarked, laughing a little bit, “Go on and pause it.” She added.

“Fine, alright,” You huffed in the way that a teenager does, before you begrudgingly walked into the kitchen to sit and eat dinner with the two older women, “But I want to play another game afterwards!”

“Don’t worry, Monkey. As soon as you’ve eaten, you can go back and continue to beat Jordan in Fifa,” Leah said, teasing her partner lightly as she ruffled your hair.

The way that you had opened up to them since you started living with them still amazed Leah. The once shy girl that would hide in her room and keep to herself, now so outspoken. She was glad to see you regularly behaving like a regular kid.

Not only were you shy, but in the first few months they would note the way that you would fight to not flinch when somebody came near you. Always afraid that people would treat you the same way that your father had done.

They didn’t understand why, but they knew they had to be patient. The two of them had always suspected things, but nothing was ever confirmed by you. 

You didn’t want to tell them, and they didn’t want to ask.

The constant voice in the back of your mind that everything you did was wrong, was what caused you to freak out the first time you dropped a plate by accident.

You offered to help Jordan dry the dishes up after dinner one evening, when she handed it to you, it had been slippery from the soap and it dropped out of your hands without a chance to even attempt to catch it.

The plate crashed onto the floor with a loud bang and broke into many pieces, you had stood there frozen, afraid of what would happen next.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I will clean it up, I will replace the plate. I am really sorry,” Your hands moved as an instinct to shield your face over your hands when Jordan approached you, “Please don’t hit me,” You pleaded, terrified.

“Hey, it’s alright kid,” Jordan moved to try and rest her hand on your shoulder as you jolted in fear, “It’s just a plate, it can be replaced. There’s no need to be frightened.”

The words weren’t sinking in as you were too wrapped up in your own head to hear what the woman was saying. You felt completely scared.

“What’s going on?” Leah questioned in concern as she walked into the kitchen after she heard the commotion and took in the scene in front of her.

Jordan looked at her with a panicked expression, “She’s scared, Le– I don’t… I don’t know what happened, I tried to reassure her but she’s scared of me Le,” She explained quickly as Leah moved slowly to stand in front of you, “No, Le, don’t. She’s terrified,”

Much to Jordan’s surprise though, when Leah stood in front of you and knelt down to your own height the best she could, you were broken out of the trance that you were in.

“Monkey?” The gentleness in the blonde’s voice got your attention, her eyes were soft in comparison to the harsh and cold eyes your dad often had, “Hey, there you are, cheeky monkey. I thought I’d lost you,” She said, sticking with the gentle approach.

“I’m sorry that I broke the plate,” You murmur the apology to the blonde, “Please don’t be mad,”

“It’s alright my girl, it’s just a plate and they always be replaced,” Leah continued to reassure you, keeping in mind that you felt frightened so she was cautious about things, avoiding enveloping you in a hug and instead just offering her hand out for you to take, “How about we leave Jordan to finish the rest of the washing up and we go and watch a movie, hm?” She suggested.

“But… But the plate is broken, I need to sweep it up,” You told her, looking down at the plate on the floor that is smashed to pieces.

The blonde shakes her head in disagreement, “That doesn’t matter now, okay? We can worry about that later. Let’s just go and watch a movie for now,” She told you gently, keeping her hand held out for you to take, “I’m sure there’s another Marvel film that I haven’t seen yet, isn’t there?”

You felt somewhat calm about the fact that Leah recognised you felt scared and offered comfort, but on your own terms, “Okay,” You agreed, accepting the hand that she held out for you to take, “You haven’t watched Iron Man yet, he’s so cool with the suits he built. I’d love to have one of them to just blast people when I want to do so!”

“What’re we watching then?” Jordan came to join you after she finished the rest of the dishes, weary about your initial fear towards her when you dropped the plate, “Did I miss anything good?” She asks.

“Jordy, you gotta see this!” You insisted, pointing your index finger in the direction of the TV, “Le, rewind it back– Look how cool Iron Man is with his suit, I want his powers! He just goes round blasting things like that!” You started to ramble all about Iron Man and the older woman felt a bit more relaxed, glad to see you weren’t frightened of her.

That was the start of you opening up more, Leah learnt that them by the two of them being patient it did pay off in the end, both Leah and Jordan had to find a newfound interest in the things that you loved but it all worked in the end, and Leah found herself knowing a lot more about these beloved Marvel characters in the long-run.

Anything to make you happy and safe in your new home.

However, you never did tell them the whole truth about your past there and then, you didn’t want them to think any differently of you.

It was easy to fake a cheerful smile and nobody even thought to ask questions now, the memories of your past were just that, memories.

Until that night at dinner where things came to light again.

“I’m gonna make a drink,” You were thirsty and completely forgot about it before sitting down to eat dinner with them both, so you moved from your seat at the table to make it.

“Can you reach or do you need a hand?” Leah teased lightly, poking fun at the fact you were still short.

Sticking your tongue out at her playfully, you walked over to where the glasses were kept, “I can reach, I’m taller than Jordy!” You insisted.

“Wha… Hey!” Jordan playfully scowled at you from where she sat eating her own dinner.

“Be careful,” Leah's maternal instinct kicked in as she watched apprehensively in case you slipped when reaching up high for the glass.

“I can do it,” You continued to insist, standing on your tiptoes with complete concentration on your face to reach one of them, “I’m short, but I’m still capable!”

“Okay shorty I believe you,” Leah joked while still keeping her eyes focused on you as she watched you reach for it, her playfulness in her voice disappearing when she saw your hoodie rise up slightly to show her the jagged scars that littered your back as her eyes widened in horror, “Oh my God,” She murmured quietly.

Jordan had caught onto Leah’s expression and was just as shocked to see it.

“I told you I got the glass Le, there’s no need to be protective,” You couldn’t help but giggle as you successfully reached for the glass and stood back to look at them, noting the concern that they both had, “Wha… I didn’t fall, why’d you both look so horrified?” You continued to wonder, not realising they had seen your scars.

“Monkey,” Leah began to say quietly and fearfully, “Those… Those scars on your back, how did you get them?” She wondered, apprehensively.

“Oh,” You tugged at your jumper automatically to try and hide them making another appearance, “There nothing, it’s just… it’s old stuff,” You told them, quietly.

“Old stuff?” Jordan repeated your words, concern written all over her face.

“Yeah, none of it matters. It’s… It’s the past,” Your not so keen to talk about this topic, trying to push down any memories from resurfacing as you make a drink in hopes that they will drop the subject.

They don’t, unfortunately.

Sitting back at the table with the two of them, you tried to ignore their weary glances as you gulped down your drink of squash, “Can we… Can we not make this out to be such a big deal? Please?” You asked them quietly.

“We need to talk about this Monkey,” Leah told you, gently as she tried to reach out and hold your hand, “Sweetheart, what… where did you get those from?” She asked, rephrasing the question to try and figure out the best approach to get you to open up to them.

“It’s nothing,” You were quick to tell them, “It wasn’t anything that I didn’t deserve,” You added.

Leah continued to look at you in concern as her eyebrows pinched together, “Sweetheart, no, nobody deserves anything like that,” She paused briefly, “Monkey, did somebody hurt you?” She questioned.

“No… Nobody, I fell. Nobody did this!” You continued to insist, but your quick response just made them even more concerned.

“Monkey, these scars don’t look like something that you can get from falling,” Jordan stated, honestly as her eyebrows furrowed, “Where did you get them, kid?” She knew she had to be gentle with her approach, the last that either of them wanted was you to revert back to the afraid girl you once was.

Glancing at Leah, you could tell that she was close to tears although you weren’t sure if it was finding out about this or the hormones, but she was close to crying for sure, “Sweetheart, please, I know you’re scared to tell us, but please, if someones’ hurt you then we need to know so we can protect you!” She insisted, her voice sounding hoarse.

“It… It was my dad,” You admitted to them, “He used to get angry sometimes, but it’s not his fault!” Even though he hurt you, you would still defend him.

It was your own fault what happened to you.

“Your Dad?” Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat at the truth, the two of them always had their suspicions it had something to do with the man, but hearing it aloud left the woman with a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Your… Your dad did this to you?” Leah’s own voice is hitched as the tears she’d been trying to keep at bay were let loose.

“Don’t cry, Le,” You told her, quietly as you moved to roll up your sleeve to show a faint scar from a cigarette burn on your arm from a night where your dad decided to use your arm as an ashtray, “They don’t hurt anymore, see?” You stated, pressing your cool finger against the scar.

Right there in that moment, Leah wanted to pull you into her arms, hold you so tightly and never let go, “Sweetheart,” She murmured, trying to fight against the instinct that she felt in case she spooked you.

“They’re just scars now, nothing else,” You told them, innocently, “It’s not his fault, I’m the one to blame. I was a burden to him,” You admitted.

“No, Monkey, no, you’re not a burden– Screw it,” Leah couldn’t fight against the instinct anymore as she moved off her chair in slow motion due to the fact she was heavily pregnant as she enveloped you in a hug, “You’re not– Listen to me, okay? Your dad… What he did, there’s no excuse for that, none at all. Nothing that happened is your fault, my girl.”

“I made him mad,” You mumbled, now trying to fight back your own tears, “I… I didn’t ever mean to make him so mad though, I did deserve it!”

“You didn’t kid,” Jordan chimed in, feeling a sense of anger for the man.

“No, no, you didn’t, you didn’t deserve any of that at all!” The blonde repeated her words, holding you in her arms the best she could with a swollen belly in the way, “What your dad did, none of it is okay. You were… You are just a kid, don’t think for a single second that any of what that man did to you is your fault,” She stated.

“It’s not?” You asked, confused.

You had always been told it was your fault, it was embedded in your brain that it was.

“No it’s not, my girl,” Leah told you truthfully.

“Oh,” You didn’t know what to say, you were used to being told so differently, so you just did what you think is right and rested your head on her shoulder, staring out at the layout of the kitchen behind you.

“It’s not your fault kid,” Jordan spoke up as she tried to control her own anger she felt for the man, “That man deserves to rot in prison for what he did to you,” Jordan stated, firmly as her hands clenched in anger.

“Jord, no,” Leah whispered as she caught sight of her partner's anger and shook her head to motion that it wasn’t the right time for that, “Monkey is our priority right now. We’ll talk about it another time,” She insisted, firmly.

“You’re right,” Jordan exhaled a sigh and started to be calmer than she was, right now the main priority was on you and making sure that you’re okay, “You don’t need to be scared now, kid. We’ve got you,” She promised, getting up from her seat to rest her hand on your back.

“Jord’s right, Monkey,” Leah told you as she continued to hold you in her arms, “We’ve got you, you’re safe and we… I won’t ever let anybody hurt you again, alright?”

“You… You won’t?” You peered your head up from her shoulder and looked at her cautiously.

“I won’t,” The blonde repeated firmly, “I’m always going to be here to protect you, you don’t need to be scared because I’m here. I’ve got you, my girl.” She told you.

Leah really did keep word, they both did.

The two of them have been there for you a whole lot through the time that you moved in with them 4 years ago just months before your 16th birthday and that hasn’t changed still to this day.

“Do you remember what I told you?” Leah questions, bringing you out of your thoughts that are wrapped up in.

“I do remember,” You tell the blonde quietly in agreement, “It’s just… You were on holiday, I didn’t want to ruin it by you having to worry about me,” 

“You’re my kid, it’s my job to worry about you,” Leah replies without even thinking about it, “And before you say anything else, I wouldn’t have cared if you had ruined it. You need me then I’m here, that’s the way it has been and always will be,”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words, a sense of security in your life that the blonde provided time and time again, “I know,” You whisper, a faint smile forming on your lips, “Thank you, I will… I will tell you next time that something is on my mind,” You tell her.

“How long have you not been able to sleep for?” Leah asks, concerned where it should be something that needs to be looked into with your profession in mind.

“A few weeks, I… I just can’t sleep, I try to and then it’s like the same dumb nightmare again,” You mumble, slumping your shoulders, “So then I wake up in a cold sweat and I can’t go back to sleep again,” You add.

“Well I guess that explains why you’ve been falling asleep in random places,” Leah jokes, trying to keep the conversation light despite knowing your true struggle with sleep coming to light, “Does this have something to do with today’s date?” She asks, quietly.

“You remembered,” You look up at her in shock, “I think it might, I keep dreaming about my dad and the day of my tenth birthday.” You admit to her.

“Of course I remembered, I thought that today might be tough for you,” Leah sympathises with you and understands how hard today might be, “We don’t have to go out today, we can stay in… How about we watch a Marvel movie? There’s gotta be one that I haven’t seen yet, huh?” She asks, offering her hand out for you to take.

You can’t help but grin faintly as you remember the memory all those years back, “That’s what you said before,” Pausing, you accept the hand offered out to you and stand up from the chair, “We can watch Black Widow, I love that one!” You declare, not giving her much choice before you drag her into the living room after abandoning your breakfast.

Watching any sort of Marvel movie was definitely worth it in your own opinion.

“Monkey!” Your favourite little buddy cheers as you both walk into the room, “Can you play with me now?” She asks, sweetly.

“How about you come join us on the sofa instead to watch this movie?” You offer, while making yourself comfy on the sofa and tap the space for the 3 year old, who jumps up from the floor and joins you on there with no hesitation.

“What are we watching?” Buddy asks, peering up to look at you curiously.

“Only one of the best Marvel movies ever!” You exclaim, beaming a wide smile.

“That’s what you say about anything Marvel that you watch,” Leah smirks, looking up from her phone with a knowing smirk before she leans over and ruffles your hair.

Unaware to you, Leah is in the middle of texting Jordan to fill her in on what is going on and much to her relief, Jordan just so happens to be in the area and tells her that’s 5 minutes out from their place with snacks in hand.

You don’t even hear the front door open when she enters because you’re so engrossed in the beginning of the film, “This film is just after Civil War, which you haven’t watched yet but there is still time!” You tell your favourite little buddy, of course she doesn’t have a clue what you’re on about though.

“Room for one more?” The familiar accent pulls your attention away from the opening credits as she stands there with a shopping bag full of snacks, “What Marvel movie are we watching this time?” She wonders, plonking herself down on the other side of the sofa where there’s an empty space for her beside you.

You don’t even know the words to express your gratitude right now as you put your arms around her to hug her, “Did you bring sweets?” You ask, cheekily.

“Like that’s even a question,” Jordan remarks playfully, “Of course I did, so many of them!” She adds.

“Well that’s not healthy,” Leah chimes in, rolling her eyes all but used to her ex’s ways, “You’re not eating all of them,” She says, pointing her index finger at you.

“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that,” You grin cheekily and accept a packet of sweets you’re offered, “See, this is why Dobby’s the fun parent and you’re the stern one, Malfoy,” You joke with her.

Jordan faux’s a gasp, “I want to be offended that you called me that, but you said I was fun so I’m gonna let it slide,” She states.

“See? Fun,” You grin, looking between the two women.

Leah rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue, “Alright, alright. Let’s watch the movie,” She tells you, gesturing your attention back to the first scene in it.

“Whatever you say,” You nod in agreement, making yourself comfy from your spot on the sofa in the middle of both Leah and Jordan, head resting on Leah’s lap while your legs dangled over Jordan and of course Buddy has managed to slot herself to lie down in front of you with your arm protectively over her.

Your favourite little Buddy continues to watch the movie in awe, despite some of the more… graphic scenes that there are, “Wow,” she gasps quietly and continues to watch the movie.

“This is Black Widow, she’s cool, we like the Black Widow!” You tell the little one who’s all but glued to your side, “I’m gonna show you all the marvel films. There’s so many, you’re gonna love ‘em, Buddy!” You insist, smiling at her.

You were grateful to be surrounded by Leah and Jordan at that minute, what should have been a dreaded day has now been overshadowed with their ever growing support to get through it not on your own.

You couldn't have more gratitude for your newfound family.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[cheesiedomino]

Reasons ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: though he’s afraid to admit it, chan has an undeniably huge crush on you. in attempt to get his point somewhat across, he drops a few hints leading all the way up until the Valentine’s Day office party, but will that mean he finally confesses his true feelings?

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | coworkers to lovers wc: 3.1k tags/warnings: fluff, office romance, mild cursing, mentions of alcohol usage, kissing, reader is kinda obsessed w/ chan’s body but who tf isn’t ??

now playing 🎧: dream girl by crisaunt

[this is the first installment of my new valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding the themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

If there’s one thing Chan could never refuse to resist no matter how hard he tries, it’s you — nothing else came near as close. You were his Kryptonite, Achille’s heel, whatever you want to call it. Chan was willing to do just about anything for you, ask him to jump and he’ll promptly answer “how high?” You had him wrapped around your little finger with a pristine, glittery bow. Some could say it was quite uncanny how he’d avidly jump at your every need and request. Whether it be from a small but adoring comment about the way you looked in your outfits or whenever he sees you struggling with something, he drops any amount of work he was doing to go help you instead. There’s no way he was doing all this just out of the kindness of his heart, everyone saw right through those tactics. Clearly there was an underlying ulterior motive in the back of his mind, and most people with a brain knew of this as fact not fiction.

Everyone that is, except you.

The minute someone brings Chan’s name up you get super defensive. You often feel the need to because of how almost every person in the office ships you two together. One of the main instigators— Mirae, your cubicle neighbor and karaoke buddy, had a habit of doing this constantly. She’s the first ever friend you made here and is a total ray of sunshine to work with, but also has the biggest mouth. She’d go around telling people that Chan has a crush on you all because he does so many selfless gestures to “impress” you. Once that got around , rumors began spreading like wildfire and suddenly it turned into you and Chan were dating.

As soon as you heard all of that you immediately shut the suspicions down, explaining that you two were simply just friends and how he’s a sweet, gentle soul. Which he most certainly is but his friendliness didn’t only stop at you, it extended to all the other employees as well. He’s the type of person who would make sure everyone else has food and a warm shelter before worrying about himself in the freezing cold. There aren’t many out there with a noble personality like Chan’s, he’s like an elderly man trapped in a young person’s body, always giving the most wise and stark advice. His way of thinking may be a little old fashioned but that didn’t make him boring by any means, he was quite fun when he wasn’t so immersed in his work.

You’ve tried to get him to let loose a bit more, even invited him out for drinks after work with your other coworkers but he declined each time. It never felt like rejection to you though, he’d be smiling the whole time he’s saying “no” but it didn’t seem disingenuous. The only reason he never took up any of your offers were either one of 3 things:

A). He’s far too nervous to get drinks with you

B). He’s too buried in his work

C). The gym is his second home

You and Chan are two vastly different people. He’s definitely the more laidback type who likes to stay at home while you love to going out and enjoy a fun night on the town with friends. Despite him knowing this, he’s never been one to judge your choices or care about what you decide to do outside of work. He even brings you hangover medicine when you come back on Monday looking like you’ve had way too many last weekend — a literal angel in human form. You wonder who the lucky lady will be that gets to marry him someday, it’s evident he’ll be a family man and would most certainly be the best dad any child could ask for. He truly possessed every lovely quality there is all in one person, a rarity that’s more hard to come by each passing day. You don’t know what you could’ve done in your past life to deserve to know someone like Chan, but you don’t regret it one bit.

This morning went like any other typical morning, you’d come to work slightly exhausted from being out later than expected. Usually, Chan would go up to your cubicle and flash a doting smile at you as he places a fresh cup of coffee on your desk. It’s always the little things that made you most content, a handsome guy delivering you your favorite cappuccino — sounds like the ideal life. However, things were slightly different on this particular morning.

Awaiting you at your desk was a large bouquet of flowers displayed in a decorative ceramic vase, accompanied by your warm beverage. You also notice something peeking out from the petals, a small white envelope without a name on it. Curiosity gets the best of you, rushing to open it and read what follows:

‘happy Valentine’s Day ___, these flowers will never be as gorgeous as you but I hope they bring you joy or at least make you half as happy as you make me everyday that I’m with you.

- CB.’

Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that note to be so… sweet ? Though it was a bit short, the message was clear, whoever wrote that really wants you to know exactly how they feel. You had to admit, reading that did make your heart skip a little— maybe even had you blushing and twirling a couple strands of hair. What caught you most off guard were the initials, ‘CB’, those letters seemed awfully familiar. Then you realize there’s only one person whose initials you personally knew that could match those; your coworker Chan. Your throat goes dry as you nervously attempt to swallow, unable to form any stable or coherent thoughts. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared you for this kind of revelation.

Scoping out the area to see if Chan was around, you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. You consider the idea of texting him but ultimately you decide not to as you think it’d be weird to assume he even did this. They’re just similar initials that’s it, you’re probably reading too much into it. Maybe you really are going crazy or something.

“Oh my god, someone sent you those?!” A chirpy voice startles you, instantly recognizing it as Mirae who’s now behind you.

“Uh, yeah I guess so..” you acknowledge nonchalantly. Parting your lips just a tad as you take a sip of delicious espresso.

“Ah. I wonder who could’ve done it?” She fake pauses to take a gander at the possibilities, “It’s definitely not the guy with the Aussie accent and name rhymes with Pan!”

You almost spit out your drink. “Shut up!”

“Oh you know I’ll never do that sweetie.” She giggles at you being all flustered, “plus I’m right you just don’t wanna admit it.”

This is like an everyday conversation you have with her, it’s nothing new. “No, I’m a logical person and I know that me and Chan are just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be and nothing more!”

It’s exhausting having to keep defending yourself from the same rhetoric all your coworkers spew daily, and even more ridiculous how fast word gets out around here. Those rumors of you and Chan dating are still being told today, even after it’s been a good year and a half since it all started.

“Friends can also develop feelings for each other overtime y’know?” Mirae lazily rests her arm on your desk as she continues her speech, “I mean I’ve never fallen for a friend so I wouldn’t know.. but this is different! Do you not pay any attention at all to the way he treats you? He’s such a simp for you it drives me insane.”

Confused more than ever, you blankly stare back at her, “huh?” You just took every favor Chan has done as being a nice, thoughtful coworker.

“Okay I’ll give you an example, remember when everyone at lunch had that whole ‘Vernon is gay or bi debate’ and Chan agreed with every single thing you said even if it didn’t make sense? If that doesn’t scream simp behavior then I don’t know what does!”

Your doubt still doesn’t waver, “I just have a very compelling way of getting people to side with me!”

Mirae rolls her eyes so hard they could go to the back of her skull. “For the love of God ___, stop acting so dense at the obvious. It’s pretty much known in this entire office that Chan’s always been totally, 100% into you.”

“It is?” You blink rapidly.

“Yes! I can’t believe you’re even still shocked about this, the guy’s constantly making cartoon heart eyes whenever he sees you!” She states, voice laced with a dash of envy as she pouts, “I wish I had someone who looked at me like that.”

Her sadness is short lived when her face animates again, as if a light bulb just went off in her brain. “Wait I have the perfect idea, you should get him to ask you out at the Valentine’s party!”

“Um.. I don’t think he’ll go, he’s not a party kinda guy remember?” You sigh in reluctance, unsure of what to think at this point.

That doesn’t seem to bring Mirae’s mood down, she only reassures you with more positivity. “Trust me, he’ll be changing a completely different tune once he finds out you’re going.”

Work events are always somewhat a bit of a drag. You didn’t particularly care for them, but you do like socializing with most of your coworkers and other fellow staff on the team. The free alcohol is also another great selling point for you to go. Gina makes the best Jell-O shots and whenever there’s a work function going on she goes all out to prepare them. This time she made some strawberry daiquiri flavored ones, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and pink heart sprinkles to fit the theme.

You grabbed one immediately from the table, looking everywhere to see if you can spot Chan but still no luck. The fact this is making you slightly upset is beyond you, but you’ve never been one to fully understand your emotions. Maybe you were right after all for thinking he wouldn’t show up. Sometimes Mirae can try a bit too hard at getting your hopes up, but you had to figure out if he was the one who actually sent the flowers or not. ‘Who the fuck else could be CB?’ You thought, it had to be him, if not you’ll be blaming Mirae for years of mental damage and distress.

This job wasn’t the first thing you had in mind by any means, but it seemed like a friendly and open work environment when you came in for an interview. You ran into Chan that same day and he started talking to you in the lobby as you waited for your turn. He had the most illuminating, pearly white smile and his accent made the most mundane words sound a thousand times hotter. You secretly hoped you’d get this job just so you can talk to Chan all day. Fast forward to almost a year and a half later you’re now closer than ever and it feels like a privilege to work with someone as amazing as him.

As you finish your Jell-O shot, you try finding the nearest trash can but end up bumping into Gina. “Hey ___! Did you like the strawberry daiquiris I made?” She kindly surveys for feedback, flashing a cute puppy dog look at you.

“Duh, of course! I love everything you make Gigi, I might have to grab another one before they’re all gone!” You praise her kindly, “by the way have you seen Chan at all?” It was a bit a random of you to ask but you couldn’t just stand around and wait for him to magically show up.

Gina thinks for a moment and finally replies, “Nah I haven’t! Why’d you ask though?”

“Oh no reason really! Was just wondering I guess-” you awkwardly shrug off, taking a step back as you walk out the break room to go into the main hallway. Heading over to the water dispenser you grab a small paper cup and bring it under the cold water option, before pressing the button a deep voice causes you to freeze in place. Recognizing that raspy voice from anywhere, it was Chan calling out after you.

“Hey, ___!” You hear him shout from a distance, jogging towards you with an ambiguous look on his face. “Could I talk to you for a moment?” He asks once he gets closer, chest slowly rising up through his white collared shirt as he’s catching his breath.

You never really took note how chiseled his body looked, maybe it was the form-fitting material of the shirt but the outline of his pecs went perfectly in sync with the way his toned arms clung to the fabric. It was clear as day Chan takes working out very seriously, mesmerized by the sheer dedication it must’ve took to even achieve a dreamlike physique such as this. Realizing you still haven’t answered yet and have just been staring at this man’s chest for what seemed like centuries, you finally croak out a response.

“Uh, yeah- sure!”

He clears his throat in preparation, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.. for a while now actually.”

Chan doesn’t seem like his usual keen self, he’s acting much more quiet and reserved, as if he’s got loads of worries on his mind. It makes you wonder…

Your heart began to race at a faster pace, not knowing what the outcome will be, you indulge in him anyway. “Hm? What is it? Don’t just leave me hanging, spill!”

Again he goes quiet, like there’s a force holding him back from saying what he truly wants. He’s usually a lot more confident and well spoken when he talks to you but this was a new side of Chan you haven’t seen before. You find it a bit endearing to be honest, it makes him more down to earth. What’s there not to like about him truthfully?

“Well uh.. you see I-”

“___! Where the heck were you we’re about to take another sho-” Mirae catches you two of you off guard, unknowingly walking in what seemed like a deep conversation. “Ohh, oopsies did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to, s-sorry!” You noticed some of her words slurring a bit and couldn’t contain a tiny giggle, it didn’t take much alcohol for her to get tipsy.

The minute she’s gone and the two of you are alone once again, the energy shifts dramatically. You gaze up at Chan to see his brows slanted into a train of thought. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring right back at you with a cryptic look. Unable to gauge the direction of this situation, you think of what to possibly say to make it less cumbersome. Before you could utter a single word, he finally speaks up.

“Let’s get outta here,” He quickly suggests, yanking your hand as he roughly takes it in his palm to lead the way. His movements are swift and eager, knowing exactly where he’s going as you’re left with even more questions and zero answers.

“Where’re we going?” You sheepishly inquire, bewildered by his sudden unpredictable action.

He doesn’t answer you. Instead he’s continuing the journey, remaining in focus all the way until he reaches the back entrance. Opening the door in a hurry to make it outside, a rush of cool air hits the back of your skin from a tiny bit of flesh being exposed. Chan brings his hands up to your arms, pinning them to your sides as he pushes you back against the brick wall of the building. His hooded eyes were fixated on you like an animal looking at its prey. It almost felt intimidating, as if he was the whole universe and you were but a mere spectacle compared to him.

“Wait what’re you do-” you’re impatiently cut off as he leans in, pupils widening when you’re abruptly met with a pair of lips pressed against your own. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, rendered still from the shock of this suddenly happening. An array of goosebumps scatter your suspended body, words can’t describe the way you feel in this moment— it’s pure bliss.

Eventually you do kiss him back once the shock wears off, parting your lips more to let him gain further access into your world. It was the most mind numbingly passionate, messy kiss you’ve ever experienced in a lifetime, wanting but Chan’s lips on yours forever and ever.

As you both pull away it’s quiet again, but not in an unpleasant manner as before. Now you’re silent because you’re admiring each other. Resisting the urge to grab his face and kiss him again, you watch intently at him biting on his bottom lip, giving you a sheer look of adoration and hunger. Your mind was in the highest state of euphoria, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. That kiss left you speechless, breathless, weightless, and all other adjectives in between.

“I can sit here and list off every reason why I’m in love with you, but I thought about it and figured this should be good enough to get my point across.” Chan suddenly expresses his true feelings while holding your hand tightly in his grasp. It feels like he can breathe again, as if a heavy weights been lifted off his broad shoulders. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”

You owe Mirae a huge apology the next time you see her.

“So it was you?!” A gasp escapes your lips, finally comprehending the fact that he’s genuinely liked you for this long. It still felt surreal to you that you even kissed.

“You didn’t realize it right away? I mean my initials were right there..” he nervously spoke once more. The effect you have on him is so dangerously good.

It’s hard to believe you were so oblivious to how Chan felt when it was all hidden in plain sight. You should’ve known something was up when he started learning how to cook the first week you met. During lunch you expressed that men who could cook were the ideal type of husband and since then he’s been on a mission to perfect his cooking and make you a proud wife someday.

Moral of the story? Life works in mysterious ways when finding your soulmate. The external forces come together to align themselves perfectly in harmony, bringing two beautiful souls to connect as one.

[End <3].

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Incomprehensible's Chapter 327

Brief summary: Cale's plate is broken. Source of the world saves Cale and repairs his plate. Cale briefly sees the true appearance of the ancient powers. Aipotu is revived.

==========

We now had actual confirmation that Cale's plate was broken. Mila was cursing as she tried to fix it, but CH could tell that she was scared of Cale dying. Even CH felt helpless upon feeling Cale's body that was getting colder. Only Ron remained calm and wiped the blood off Cale's face.

Meanwhile, Cale's anger and annoyance at DHB's sacrifice was what kept Cale from losing consciousness. Fortunately, the Source of the World came to Cale's rescue, infusing him with the power of life, as well as using Cale as an air purifier... 😂

Amidst the brilliant pillar of light that enveloped him, Cale's body and plate was healed and upgraded??? The reactions of the ancient powers to Cale's upgrades were hilarious though. 🤣🤣🤣

SR: What? This, huh? This is getting bigger than I thought. Fire to VoH: Hey, hey! Youngest, if this continues, won't Cale's plate be in a problem? SEW: What problem! You piece of shit! It's a good thing! We're fighting gods, not dragons, so we need to strengthen it to this extent! Shield: Mmm. This tastes better than the source of the world. Everyone: silent at glutton's words Shield: munching the life power of the source of the world DA: …I'm scared…

Our poor cowardly DA, scared of all the APs... 😂😂😂

But during Cale's plate upgrade, he managed to get a glimpse of what the ancient powers looked like:

Vitality of the Heart - an elderly man with a sobbing face

Indestructible Shield (glutton priestess) - a woman who looks like a young girl

Sound of the Wind (the thief) - a middle-aged woman with both eyes closed

Fire of Destruction - A jovial, playful-looking young man

Sky-Eating Water - a woman with a pure impression but a disgruntled face

Super Rock - a hulking, rigidly built man who reminded one of a rock itself.

Unfortunately, DA never got a physical description. 🙁 And Wind seems to be taller than Shield because she patted Shield's head.

Air Purifier Cale's appearance though... 😂

There was Cale. And there was a great energy radiating out from him, a stream of light, a pillar of light, stretching out into the world. And the air was so refreshing, warm, cool, and clear, yet also cold, hot, and chilling. It was like- "Yes. This is nature." Heavenly Demon said to himself as he looked at the marvelous sight. Then he heard the voice of a man in his ear. "The world-" No. "It's returning." His enemy, the dragon, gasped. "The world is returning to normal." I didn't have to hear the voice to know it. The world is being redefined. A return to the way things should be. It could only mean one thing. Something they wanted so badly. The white snake of the beast people, Wisha, cried out, unable to contain her excitement. "The world is coming to life!" Aipotu is coming back to life. And we live, too. No, we can live more. In this place.

Is this the birth of God Cale's legend? The birth of Caleism in Aipotu? And with Cale rejuvenating Aipotu, will he be known as some sort of creator god? 😂

Clopeh-nim, where are you? Are you recording this now? Please record it! Cale is now one more step closer to godhood! Slacker life? What's that? 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Ah, the flags of God Cale keeps multiplying. 😂 Next chapter will be about the aftereffects of Cale and the source of the world's actions. The Aipotu arc is finally reaching its end.

[mx-jinxous]

He was in love with a dead man.

Steve found it ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. When he was forced to find a job after his parents disowned him, the museum was the last place he’d expected to fall in love. The museum gift shop had gladly taken him in as a thank you for his family’s namesake, though Steve didn’t try to pretend interested in the way. He took the job offer, anything to pay the bills.

His current living arrangement was his car until he could save enough money back to get an apartment. Sadly with his car payment and insurance, it hardly left anything to put back, not enough to pay his phone bill for the last few months. Most days it was a toss-up for gas or food, which was going to be a harder decision with the approaching winter. Since he had to drop out of college he’d been left sneaking into the community pool to even get a shower, but soon he’d have to find other options. They started to dwindle as his friends, or rather the people who acted as such, distanced themselves when he was kicked out. He came from money and that’s all that anyone ever wanted.

His first idea was to befriend or date, but he couldn’t use them as people did to him. So he asked for more work, playing it off as expanding his knowledge and role. This led him to partner with the elderly security, who was fondly nicknamed Grey, until they could get him a trainee. Steve happily accepted it. The old man was a storyteller, even his lectures were entertaining as he drifted into stories of his kids. He often let him wander around, and that’s how he found the newest addition to the royalty wing.

They had discovered an underground burial vault, hidden beneath the remains of a castle converted into a long abandoned church. It was above Steve’s pay grade how they ever managed to acquire permission to excavate the vault. One night on his explorations the young man found the exhibit and the statue of King Kas. He ruled in the 1200 c.e., a just ruler in a conflicted era. Sadly, he existed during a blip in history, and few records have been found of his rule.

Still, the statue was handsome and mesmerizing. It was carved from marble and well cared for regardless of facing time. Surprisingly for a cold material, the eyes were warm, inviting even. It’s what kept Steve returning, making him fall. Grey had found him sometimes just talking to Kas about his problems when he came to let him out for the night. He was kind enough to offer an invite to his home whenever he needed, fatherly. He’s what he’d wished his parents were like, he cared for a boy he didn’t even know and even fed him when he didn’t have food. It was nice but also painful.

Steve spent every shift studying the statue. The king was adorned in jewelry; rings, a crown, necklaces, armlets, and bracelets filled with gemstones worth more than Steve’s parents. It only enhanced the beauty of the masterpiece, but it was truly the eyes that pulled him in. Maybe it was the dry spell in his current living situation, but he wanted to reach out and hold his face in his hands. His body was doing that on its own accord, his fingers nearly brushing its cheek when the hallway door was thrown open. Steve responded immediately, hiding behind the nearest pillar. His mind caught up with him once he was out of sight, that he and Grey were the only ones this late, still didn’t want to be caught with his hand on the exhibit.

Taking a calming breath, he stepped out and was going to give him a hard time about the scare. However, he froze when he heard more than one voice, harsh whispers echoing in the unoccupied room. Steve pressed up against the pillar, trying to be silent, trying to figure out how to alert Grey without his walkie.

So he stood there, listening to things being moved, metal clinging. “This is a goldmine. Can’t believe these idiots left it open like this, just ripe for the takin’.” A man cackled, the young man risking it to get a look at the thieves. Three of them, one stripping Kas while the other two robbed his riches.

“Shuddup. You want security up our asses?” Another snapped.

“What? That old guy probably ain’t got his hearing aid in.”

“He ain't alone dipshit. He's got that kid in here. Didn’t see him leave.” The last guy grumbled, sounding like he was struggling. “He’s not gonna be a problem. If he tries anything, I’ll show him mister pew pew.” That got Steve sweating. He needed a plan, a distraction to escape. From his vantage point, he noted the doors were close to the men, there were no windows, and the fire escape was a sprint away that gave the thieves an open shot. But the fire alarm was on the wall, parallel to him. Pulling it would alert firefighters and police, and hopefully scare the men enough to give him the opening that he needed. It was as solid as a plan he could make, but of course, he should know that life loved to make him struggle.

It came in the form of a, “Pull harder numb nuts.”, followed by a clatter. Peaking out he was met with the king's bracelet skidding past him. That’s what gave away his safe spot, the men already yelling and sprinting towards him. Steve took off, snatching the bracelet on the way to the fire alarm. He pulled it as he passed, heading towards the nearest exhibit, Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt. There were plenty of places to hide, Steve choosing the curtain that framed a standing sarcophagus.

It was sheered, easy to see through, yet nearly impossible to see in the dark museum. He gripped the bracelet, trying to quiet his breathing when the men came into the room. The alarm lights flashed and blared, however, he could hear things being thrown and smashed. There was angry yelling between the three, Steve watching the best he could through the fabric. He could make out only their silhouettes, watching in horror as they destroyed parts of history, feeling powerless. Was this how it was supposed to end, hunted and afraid? A fitting end to the last shitty months.

All he knows is that he isn’t going down without a fight. The bracelet was a decent weight and could knock someone out with a strong enough swing. He hoped it was enough as the silhouettes grew closer as Steve braced for an attack.

A scream froze the moment, now four shadows appeared on the other side of the curtain. “What the hell!” The man closest to the newcomer howled before he fell, his partner's screams echoing. Gunshots rang out causing a horrified scream to escape the young man. He fell to his knees and curled up, wanting to be as small as he could. Steve couldn’t fathom, nor did he want to attempt, the horrifying noises on the other side. There were screams and then silence.

He could only hope that the perpetrator didn’t find him- but once again life loved to beat him down. The curtain was pulled back, giving him an up-close view of the mystery man. Steve met with those warm eyes that once brought him comfort, now a sign of terror as Kas stood, marble painted in blood. He wanted to beg, to scream, but all that escaped his lips was a whimper. The statue took a step forward and the younger man fell back, trying to push himself as far away from the creature.

Not taking the hint, Kas knelt in front of him, reaching out toward him. He dropped his sword as fingers brushed against Steve’s cheek, causing him to flinch at the cold stone. It was silent between the two, aside from the blaring alarm, leaving them staring at one another. Pulling back his hand, Kas scooped the young man up without warning. A squeak escaped him, fear keeping his mouth bound as he was carried through the blood-drenched room to the king's exhibit. There he was gently sitting on the edge of the stone coffin that had been cracked open to show the interior. The body had been removed before the exhibit had opened so there was no fear of a zombie popping up. Just Steve and Stone Kas.

Steve was balancing himself the best he could while stone eyes studied up and down his body. They stopped on the bracelet still gripped in his hands, causing him to fumble trying to hold it up to the marble man.

“H-Here! I-I didn’t mean to take it, but I kept it safe. See, no damage.” He shook as the statue took the bracelet, examining it closely. Steve sat there, just waiting until Kas saw fit that the bracelet was fine. He hesitated with any noise or movement, not wanting to earn the creature's ire. He wished to disappear, to be locked behind his car doors on the other side of the country, just out of the king's sight.

Unfortunately, that wish quickly broke when Kas wrapped his hand gently around Steve’s upper arm. He watched in horror and confusion as the bracelet slid onto his wrist, giving the man his first clear look at the jewelry. It was a thick gold band with some basic designs carved in it, a bright red gem enclosed in it. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, even Kas seemed to think so as a smile came to the carved face.

“Yeah, i-it’s a lovely piece, but sadly I’m not a jewelry guy.” His nervous chuckle was cut short when the smile fell, his body tensing as it was just them in silence once more. “Please-.” He whimpered.

A sob broke free when Kas leaned in, his cold lips pressing into his forehead. “Te videre iterum, amore mea.” He whispered, pulling back enough to peer down into Steve’s eyes. Without warning he was shoved back into the coffin, the lid pulled over without a struggle.

“Shit.” He mumbled, trying to push the stone lid off to no avail. “Shit! No, no, shit!” He screamed, pounding against the marble. Panicked tears dripped down his cheeks as he kept trying to push to top off. “I- I ca-. I can’t breathe! Please let me out! Please Kas!”

There was no telling how long he was screaming for, but no one came to his rescue. The fight left him abruptly as the situation set in. He was stuck in a stone prison, running out of air, no one knowing where he went. No one would notice him missing until much later after he suffocated. This was how he was going to die, as a nobody.

Steve went to cover his face, only to be splashed with water. He sat there, horrified at the thought that he was bleeding, but no. His body was sitting in water, the coffin filling at a ridiculous rate. He no longer had to wait to suffocate, now he was going to drown long before that.

A new panicked fueled fire filled his stomach, his legs coming up to kick at the lid. He figured if water was getting in, there was a chance he wasn’t completely sealed in. His head was underwater while he kicked with all his might. Soon it started sliding with each kick, giving way to enough space for his body to squeeze through. He wasted no time, the water weighing him down as he pulled himself free.

It was dark aside from a flickering archway, his body freezing as he took a minute to catch his breath. He could tell he was no longer in the museum, the only light seeming to be the only exit. A groan escaped Steve’s lips as he pulled himself towards the light, coming to a spiral staircase that only went up. It was illuminated by torches on the wall, the only warmth in this dark room. Freedom was near, and though his body wanted to give in to rest, Steve pressed on. His body ached, each step taken with a struggling limp that made the trip feel like hours.

He nearly cried when he saw the doorway, a light illuminating the stairs. He was ready for bed, or maybe he’d try to hit Grey up for a shower to get all the death dust off of him. If he was lucky, this was all a horny-induced nightmare.

That came to head when the universe decided to remind him once more of his shit luck. When he walked out of the doorway he was greeted with a group of swords pointed at him, surrounding him. His body was aching, fighting to stay standing as another wave of armored people came in. Trying to take a step back Steve’s body gave out, a mumbled “Fucking bullshit.”, escaping before he hit the ground. His world went dark once more.

________________

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Chapter 1| Chapter 2

[factual-fantasy]

I realized we know the least about the river person in ya au.

Care to remedy that?

Well to be honest.. not a whole lot has changed about her. I keep forgetting she exists and I don't have a lot of ideas for how she could interact with the group..

Though speaking of her, recently I tried to dig into her character a little more and I started by making a redesign for her. Although its only the first pass and Isn't official yet-

And despite my attempts, for now her story and character is still relatively the same..

She was just a lonely boat keeper. She would come home from her shifts to a gloomy house where no one was waiting for her. No family, no friends.. no pets or hobbies.. she didn't really have anything going on except for running the boat. And to be honest.. she was kind'a okay with that in a way. She just accepted that this was her life, and this is how she lives. And its not like she had no joy in her life. Her joy came from running the boat.

She would take all kinds of people down the river, and they would talk to her. They would tell her wonderful things. The children would talk about their hopes and dreams. What they wanted to be when they grew up.. what their favorite food was. They'd tell her about that crazy looking frog they saw on the way here.

The elderly would tell her stories of all the places they'd been and all the things they'd seen. And even if they didn't talk to her directly.. she still overheard some interesting conversations. The young couples would talk about what they were planning on naming their first child. They would talk about what they wanted their house to look like and how many pets they wanted to have.

And sometimes the people on the boat didn't talk at all. Sometimes they looked sad and wouldn't look up from their feet.. So she would sing to them. And when they got off she would tell them "I hope you're day gets better. I enjoyed your company." And the few times she got a smile back made it all worth it.

She put her value of herself and her life on the people around her. Transporting people from point A to point B and occasionally cheering people up.. was all the worth she really felt she had..

But then Jevil and his group came along for a boat ride. Half way down the river Jevil breaks out in a cold sweat and starts to shake. Somethings wrong.

"This world is about to end." The group perks up "What?"

Grabbing Seams sleeve beside him he says louder and frantically "THIS WORLD IS ENDING"

Jevil jumps up and makes a mirror below the water large enough to swallow the boat whole.

As they fall through the mirror, horrible soul breaking sounds can be heard as that timeline collapses in on itself.

The boat probably landed in a snowdin somewhere.. or maybe another waterfall? Or maybe in a dark world.. where ever it landed, Jevil was looking the group over when he saw River Person..

"Where.. am I?"

He had done it again. Ripped someone out of its AU just as it was dying...

I intended for River person to have some kind of survivors guilt. Thinking her life had no real value and that anyone else in her AU deserved to have been saved in her place. Almost the opposite of Grillby.

Grillby hates Jevil becuase he valued his life and lost everything he held dear.. River Person doesn't hate Jevil for saving her at all. She's not sad about losing her life becuase she never really had one.. She's just grieving for all those people who died and wishes any of them could have been saved in her place.

The guilt really eats her up inside..

[yelenasdiary]

Kate Bishop x Reader. Taking place during Episode 2. Reader is a young surgeon and Kate's girlfriend. Kate returns injured with Clint. Reader may be Clint's daughter and doesn't know his daughter is dating Kate.

Secrets Out

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Surgeon! Barton! Reader

Summary: Treating your girlfriend wasn’t how you thought you’d be spending your Sunday afternoon at work.

Tiny Angst | Fluff | Mentions of Blood | Medical Talk | Slight Language Warning | 1.2K | 

AC: Thank you for sending this!! Although I have only seen Hawkeye once, I loved the idea and there needs to be so much more Kate fics! I hope you enjoy this x 

As part of your studies to become a surgeon, you had to do some volunteer work at the local hospital to help put what you've learned so far into practice. Of course, given you're only half-way through your second year of med school, you weren't expected to do any major operations like a heart transplant. You would scrub in on operations like that and watch as the surgeon did their magic and other times you'd help out in emergency. 

Tonight, was exactly that, a few hours in the emergency room helping out the nurses. You never knew what injury would walk through those big sliding doors. "Alright, Mrs Anderson, take it easy for the rest of the week, okay?" you smiled softly at the elderly woman who had slipped in her kitchen while making dinner. She required a few small stitches. 

"Thank you, doc!" the woman smiled before you showed her out. With her cart, you placed it in the filing system at the front desk before taking a much needed mouthful of your soon to be cold coffee when your eyes locked onto the next patient who walked into the ER.

"Dad?" you questioned as you wandered over to him, "are you okay?!" you asked in a worry. Your eyes scanning every part of him for any injuries or signs of blood.

"It's not me honey" he assured you, "it's Kate" he added. Your heart sunk as you saw your girlfriend standing behind your father with a soft smile and a large gash on her forehead as she mouthed "I'm sorry" when you raised a concerned brow at her. 

"What happened?" you asked. 

"I slipped" Kate lied which only made you tilt your heard at the dark-haired woman.

"Take a seat on bed four, I'll be with you in a moment" you replied, giving your girlfriend a non-impressed look. Your dad, Clint, followed Kate to the bed where they both waited for you to return with fresh instruments to stitch Kate's forehead up. It was hard for you to keep your worries to a minimum when your father was yet to know about your relationship with his crime fighting partner. 

You returned with everything you needed and began to clean up the blood that made a river down the side of Kate's face. She would see the worry in your eyes and knew she'd be getting a talk when she was home alone with you. Clint offered to get some fresh coffee as it would take a while for you to make sure Kate could leave in be better condition she arrived in. 

"What happened?" you asked as you jabbed her with some lidocaine to numb the area before giving the woman stitches. 

"It was just a little fight; you should see the others! I think they'll need a lot more than stitches" she replied with a chuckle. You didn't find it funny though. 

"Baby, I already worry about my dad out there fighting aliens and whatever else, now I have to worry about you as well and somehow, I'm more worried about you than my dad" you explained as you prepared the stitches. Kate gently placed her hand over your blue gloved hand, making you look at her once more. 

"I promise you, I'm okay" she assured you. 

"Honey, I'm about to give you 4 stitches, I wouldn't exactly say that's okay" 

Kate didn't want to make you worry any more than you already were, "what can I do to make this up to you?" she asked. 

"You could be more careful? Maybe not throw yourself into fights?" You raised a brow at her once more. Kate raised your hand to her lips and kissed your covered knuckles as she looked up at you, "your wish is my command" she smiled softly. Her cuteness was more than enough for you to forgive her and make you blush, you chuckled, "now I have to change my gloves again" you playfully rolled your eyes before taking off the now contaminated gloves. 

As you turned around to get more gloves, you were met with the very protective look of your father who had just seen everything. He moved slightly to the left and made eye contact with Kate while instantly gulping and sloughing in hopes it would hide her from the glaring look from your father. 

"So, which one of you is going to explain this?" he asked, placing the two take away coffee cups in the bin before crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Dad, not here, not now" you tried to keep professional as you grabbed a fresh set of gloves. 

----

You would've had Kate stitched up and out the door by now if it wasn't for the glaring stare your father was giving the two of you. Not a word was spoken as you stitched up your girlfriend's gash while your mind tried its best to not think about the talk you're going to have to have with your father. 

It was safe to say that your dad has always been extremely protective of you, you're his eldest child and nobody would ever be good enough for his little girl. Even through high school, anybody you dated not only got a talking too from your father but also his friends, the avengers. 

"How long have you two been dating?" Clint asked, breaking the silence. Kate looked at you as she chewed the inside of her cheek, it was clear she was slightly scared of what your father and her mentor might think of her dating you. 

"A few months" you replied as you began to finish up Kate's stitches. Your father's eyes looked direct at Kate as you backed away from her and removed your gloves once again. "Remind me again my number one rule, Bishop" he spoke sternly. 

"Not to flirt with your daughter" Kate confessed. 

"Lucky you because it was me to who flirted with Kate" you turned to your dad who wasn't impressed. "Why? I mean, you can ha-"

"Dad!" you interrupted him, "I know you love me, and you care about me but, so does Kate. She's amazing, she's respectful, she's funny, she's smart and beyond beautiful, she makes me happy and for once, please, just give this one a chance. No talks from your or the others, if I didn't think Kate would be good for me, I wouldn't have asked her out myself" you explained, slightly unloading some built up feelings. 

Clint took a moment to think about what you were saying, his eyes drifted back to Kate before he sighed in defeat. "Can I just say one thing?" Your father asked, you nodded. 

"You hurt her in anyway a-"

"I know, you'll kill me and then most likely the Avengers will kill me and for some reason I feel like you'd kill me again" Kate interrupted, chuckling nervously at her own words. You couldn't help but shoot your dad and unimpressed look before he opened his mouth again. 

"You best come to dinner Friday night then, Laura is going to want to know about this" he replied. Your dad won't admit it but he couldn't have picked anybody better for you to date. He knew Kate would never hurt you and that she would treat you with nothing but love and respect, it just meant now he had to really make sure that she wouldn't get hurt on the job.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @kiwiana145  | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok |  @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @musicinourlips | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | 

[flowerandblood]

The Taste of Shame (2)

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: doubts related to sex work, panic attack, remorse and depression, fluff, sexual tension ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn’t no longer matter when he meets his friend’s younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Walking to the lecture they talked about everything and nothing; for the most part, she was the one speaking, telling stories or asking questions, guiding her bike beside her by the handlebars, while he just added his thought or simply remained silent, listening to her.

They arrived at the Community Centre true to her word very quickly and indeed he immediately saw posters announcing that there would be free lectures by philosophers in the fields of contemporary ethics.

Robert's sister padlocked her bike in the designated area and they both went inside, following the signs. They entered a large, neo-classical hall with beautiful pillars and rich ornamentation on the ceiling, reminding him of a theatre or opera house.

They sat side by side on seats in one of the first rows − she explained to him that the presenter would be asking questions and, among others, her professor would be answering.

Indeed, the discussion was remarkably interesting and he caught himself drawn in; the men were talking among themselves about capital punishment, attitudes to the treatment of other humans and animals, warfare and human-wide conflicts.

However, he felt a cold sweat on his back and a tightness in his throat, his heart starting to pound like mad when the presenter asked the next question.

"As we know, a lot of young people start, as they say in modern times, sexworking − whether they show up on webcams or have sex for money. How do you, Professor, view this, do you think it's good for the psyche of such people? Is it morally right?"

The professor grunted and corrected his glasses with a slight hand gesture; he was a grey-haired, elderly man with a kindly, calm face.

"It depends on a number of factors. Firstly − what that young person's goal is. When we choose our job, we usually want more than just to earn money, most people's dream is to do things that fascinate them, that they are fulfilled in. Of course, people are also fulfilled in the sexual sphere with their partners, however, what happens when sexuality becomes a profession?

Well, in a way, two things are then combined that can be very destructive to the psyche − materliness and one's own body. At the same time, we make the decision ourselves, so it is not morally wrong if it involves two adults who agree to it, but there is an internal objectification, a selling of some part of our intimacy.

Of course, one can feel good about it. One may even like it. One should not tell such people that they are denying something, or say that they are selling themselves, that they are pricing their value. You see, it is not for us to judge. Everyone can do what they want with their body, it is their unquestionable right.

However, the danger arises when, underneath this materialistic approach, there is a desire for self-destruction, a desire to simultaneously dominate, to be in charge − I decide what happens to my body − and, at the same time, I desire to humiliate myself in my own eyes − I sell myself and I'm nothing, I don't want affection because I don't deserve it.

This issue is very complex and delicate, judging too quickly, especially by outsiders, will be even more hurtful to such people, a confirmation that they will never be loved and accepted, so they will be afraid to make sexuality emotional, which will lead to the opposite effect that we would all like."

The presenter nodded with understanding.

"If the professor were to state what it should look like in an ideal world, what would the professor say?"

The man laughed good-naturedly, stroking his white beard.

"I don't have an answer to that. I think that in an ideal world, the person who is made for us would be highlighted to us in green and those who hurt us in red. But we don't have that option. I think the fundamental mistake of every human being is to make judgements prematurely, instead of being willing to understand, to offer conversation, to support.

Calling someone a whore or a slut has never helped anyone, what's more, it only makes such people even more likely to have suicidal thoughts and be afraid to seek help when they feel they need it, because they are scared of revealing themselves to their parents or loved ones."

The presenter moved on to the next topic, but he heard nothing more, staring blankly at the floor, leaning forward so that his elbows were on his knees − he felt himself trembling all over, his eyes burning from the moisture that had gathered under his eyelids, his throat all clenched.

He felt her hand on his back and he shuddered, glancing over his shoulder at her with wide eyes − she was leaning over him worriedly, he could smell her pleasant scent again.

"Are you all right? Do you want to go out for some fresh air?" She asked frightened, clearly seeing how pale he was, and he nodded in embarrassment.

By the time they got outside it was completely dark; he reached with his shaking hand into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, taking out a cigarette and a lighter, firing it quickly and putting it into his mouth.

He felt her looking at him − they were standing in the square in front of the main entrance where there was no one but them, all around them was the loud hum of moving cars.

For some reason he felt desperate and miserable, weak, small; he clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head, trying to pull himself together. He sat down on the cold stone steps and she immediately sat down next to him, far too close.

He sighed when he felt her hand on his shoulder, stroking him gently, her warm breath on his cheek cool from the crisp evening air. He let out a loud puff of smoke with his lips, thinking only of how he had never let any woman touch him.

He placed his hand on hers, wanting to feel her for once, her skin soft as silk, exactly as he had imagined; he looked at her in pain, her eyebrows arched in worry, in incomprehension of what had actually happened.

"I'm selling myself." He said finally, desperate, and she blinked as if she didn't understand what she had just heard.

He took a drag again, not taking his eyes off her, and let the smoke out through his nose.

"I do all sorts of fucked up things to women for money and get satisfaction out of it, you know?" He asked in a low, trembling voice, feeling devastated how tears of shame one by one began to run down his face.

He felt himself shaking all over and thought he was an idiot, wondering how he could have said that to her. For some reason, he felt something inside him break.

He wanted her to know, to tell him she was disgusted with him, to look at him with that look full of reserve, to tell him it was nothing and just go away simply to let him finally stop thinking about her.

He saw her tighten her lips, her eyes turning red, her eyebrows arching in sorrow as if she was in pain as he was. He felt a pleasant shudder when her hand stroked gently through his hair as if he were a small child, and then she hugged her face to his cheek and simply remained silent.

She didn't say anything.

She stayed.

She wanted to comfort him.

Delighted at this revelation, he burst out into a quiet, mournful sob, leaned over and snuggled his face into her neck, wanting to hide from his own shame and remorse, from what she might think of him, from what he feared and could not forgive himself for.

Why did he have to be like this?

Why exactly did this give him fulfilment?

He sighed quietly as she put her arms around him and hugged him, her soft hand stroking his cheek with gentle, slow movements, her face nestled against his hair and placing a gentle kiss on it.

"You didn't do anything wrong." She whispered finally; he swallowed hard, rubbing the tip of his nose against her neck, brushing his lips gently against her bare skin, again, and then again.

He felt her tremble and tighten her hands on his leather jacket, his manhood in his trousers completely hard.

He had no idea what had just happened between them, but he didn't want to stop.

After a moment, as his emotions left him he realised what he had done.

That he had told a complete stranger about who he was, revealed to her his darkest secret.

This thought made him panic − he got up abruptly and mumbled through his tears that he would go home already, that he apologised to her for everything, not listening to her pleas to wait for her, running quickly down the stone stairs, walking ahead.

He looked over his shoulder as he turned into the corner of the next street and noticed with some kind of disappointment that she was not following him.

He burst out into uncontrollable sobs for the second time once he had locked himself in his car having complete chaos in his head, feeling that he was going through some kind of panic attack.

He thought that until he'd met her he hadn't felt this way, that the idea that he couldn't date her because of what he'd done made him start to regret it all.

What was he supposed to do now?

He reached for his phone hearing it vibrate and unlocked it quickly seeing as many as three new messages from her.

He clenched his eyelids, dropping his phone on the other seat, hiding his face in his hands.

He needed to calm down.

He sat like that for a few minutes in silence, not thinking about anything, just breathing, and then he drove home as if nothing had happened.

He entered his flat, took a shower, ate something and then turned on the TV, all mechanical, completely empty; he shuddered when he got a new message, reaching uncertainly for his phone and felt an unpleasant twinge in his stomach when he saw it was one of his clients.

She wanted to meet the next day.

No, he thought.

I don't want to.

He wrote her back that he was taking a break from it all for a while.

He was infuriated when she started texting him to tell him not to do it, that she needed him, that meeting him made her want to go on living.

He slammed his phone furiously into the wall.

What about what he fucking needed?

When he picked it up after several minutes he found that it worked despite the cracked screen.

He accessed the last messages he'd received from Robert's sister and began typing quickly to her on his phone's keypad.

He pressed his lips together when he saw that she immediately displayed his message, a bubble popped up in his app window indicating that she had just written back to him.

He swallowed loudly, writing her back without thinking, without controlling himself, allowing himself to shamelessly write her exactly what was in his head.

He stared at the screen with a pounding heart, wondering whether to do it or not, walking restlessly around his living room with his phone in his hands − he typed out the answer slowly, feeling that he was hot.

She didn't reply for a long time even though he could see that she had displayed his message.

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, laughing despairingly under his breath, not believing how desperate he was.

He'd known it from the moment he'd seen her, when she'd gotten off that fucking bike and looked at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers.

He stood looking at her message as if stupefied, reading it again and again, unable to believe it, feeling like he was about to die from the arousal and heat he felt in his chest, his fingers trembling as he tapped out his reply to her.

And so she did.

He didn't dare propose to meet her alone, knowing how that would have gone down on his part.

He didn't want to scare her off.

However, they wrote with each other for days, even during his classes; Criston and Robert laughed at him for having a girlfriend and not even wanting to introduce her to them.

He didn't care.

She was the first person he told about how it all started, what he felt when he did it, what aroused him and what repulsed him about it all.

She listened to him and answered him with sincere concern and worry, without judging him, without pretending it was a simple and obvious subject, giving him a sense of comfort and understanding.

He made it clear to her that he had refrained from any contact with strange women for the time being.

He licked his lower lip as he lay back in his bed, writing her off quickly.

He swallowed hard when she wrote him back after a moment.

He felt a squeeze in his heart at her words, some kind of pain that she thought of herself that way, that she saw herself as just another person he wanted to take out on.

He chuckled involuntarily, typing back a quick response to her question.

He blinked, looking at his screen with a pounding heart, not believing what he read.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[cotl-betrayal-sacrifice]

[24] Other Side

Alexander does his job as the god of death, and helps an elderly dog find peace.

114 years after Culling began. Eighth month of the Lamb.

It was strange to think about how much the Veil had changed since he defeated Narinder. What was once a haze coated landscape of dry sand and massive chains was now an afterlife of snow. The constant trickle of snowflakes from the endless sky had replaced the sandy floor with snow that crunched underhoof. Some snow drifts had formed, giving the terrain a bit more variation than what was present before, and the Lamb could faintly hear the joyous screams of the deceased enjoying the endless weather. The ground was cold, but despite that spirits happily played and walked through it all day long. One of the benefits of not possessing a body with a need to keep warm. Most creatures staying here had found peace in the winter afterlife, reuniting with loved ones or experiencing joys that their harsh life had previously stolen from them. Despite how sad it was to see children here, at least they could find joy in this place.

As Alexander trotted through the white landscape, his ears perked to a voice calling out to him. Turning around, he saw an elderly dog waving him down from the bottom of a hill. Their wooden left pegleg was the most obvious feature, whilst the greyed black and white pattern of their coat identified them as a border collie. "Excuse me young one, do you think you could help me?" She asked, leaning on her walking cane with enough of a hunch on her back that she matched him in height.

Alexander smiled. "Of course, who are you looking for?" This was his job here, helping those lost spirits find their friends and family.

"I'm… Not sure. I'm looking for something, but I don't know what. And these old bones aren't the fastest." She laughed at her own observation, hobbling forward and around the Lamb. "But I figured you would know this place better than I." She continued as she began to take slow steps up the hill the Lamb had just descended.

"Well, I know how to find anybody here." Alexander explained. "So, if you know their name I'll be able to help you out." He offered his arm to help her, and the collie accepted. But once her hand rested on his arm, she paused.

"…You're warm." She mumbled, slightly stunned. She looked up his body and focused on the Red Crown. "You're alive, you're the Promised Liberator!" She declared happily. "I thought that crown looked a little too real."

Alexander chuckled and nodded, lightly tugging her to prompt her to continue walking up the hill. "Yes, I am. My name is Alexander."

"Oh, I apologise! I just assumed you were dead. After I heard the last sheep was killed years ago, I kind of…" She paused, her features twisting into sadness and regret. "…Lost hope." But her smile soon returned, wrinkles twisting with her smile. "But silly me should have not lost faith, I onyl wish you were one of mine."

The Lamb tilted his head. "One of yours?"

She nodded, the pair finally reaching the top of the hill. "During the Culling, I helped hide many sheep and lambs from the Old Faith." His eyes widened before a soft smile of gratitude fell over him. He had heard of such kind souls, risking everything for strangers they had never met. "I never got anything in return beyond words of appreciation, but that was enough." She took a deep breath (despite not needing to breath) and looked over the landscape. Coloured dots moved around under her gaze, scanning the landscape in search of something. Alexander was about to ask a question before she raised her cane and pointed into the distance. "This way, I believe." Was he guiding her, or the other way around?

"Alexander doesn't sound like a sheep name." She noted after a few minutes of silent walking. "A name to hide amongst the Old Faith?" She asked, turning to him.

"Something like that…" He mumbled, his face tightened and his hand scratched his collar, whilst his mind swashing with contradicting thoughts. Something about her felt so soft and genuine. Is that why he wanted to tell her the truth? Her expression flattened, she knew that look, and knew it was best to not pry.

There were another few minutes of quiet walking, the only sound being snow crunching under hoof and paw and the occasional voice asking for directions. Alexander indulged every time, and everytime she waited for him to be finished before continuing to walk with him. "…My birth name was Charon Enquos." Alexander said, a quiet hum of acknowledgement coming from his travelling partner. "Alexander was the name given to me by my parent."

"And, who was your parent?" She asked, voice quiet and cautious.

Alexander did not answer for a few moments, pausing with a deep breath in and out before answering. "Shamura. The Bishop of War." He averted his gaze, only hearing her hum in curiosity.

"I did not think the Bishop of War would do such a thing." She mulled out loud.

"I was raised to be a spy, to sell out places that were safe for sheep." ALexander continued, old guilt bubbling to the surface.

She said nothing, her gaze focused on the path ahead in thought for a few, agonisingly long moments, before she finally asked. "Why did you do it?" Her tone wasn't filled with anger or distrust, just confusion and undertones of disappointment.

"Shamura was my parent, I loved them and they… They loved me." His arms wrapped around himself in a self hug. He hated thinking about Shamura, about how he hated Narinder more than he loved them.

The collie's face twisted into shared grief. "You have my condolences. It must have not been easy to fight them." She said, rubbing her hands together for a few moments of silence. "My ex-husband, bless his soul, did his best to support me. But one day it got to be too much for him." The Lamb looked up at her as the tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "He was going to tell the Old Faith about the sheep I had been harbouring, that they were threatening us so the Old Faith wouldn't kill us too. But I… Couldn't let him do that." She looked down at the snow, eyes locking onto her pegleg for a few moments before she stiffened her expression. "That was the only time he ever hurt me."

"Did you ever forgive him?"

"I forgave him decades ago. He was doing what was best for us, I just wish I never let my greif and anger make me throw the ring away." She rubbed her hands once again, Alexander now noting that she was specifically squeezing her ring finger. "Perhaps if I didn't…" She mumbled.

"If you didn't?" Alexander asked.

She shook her head, wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up to him. "Oh, nothing dearie. Shall we continue walking, I feel like we're close." She said, swiftly stepping ahead to leave the conversation behind.

The two walked about various things for the remainder of the walk. Their lives, people they had met, what the sanctuary was like and the people who lived there, Alexander's plans for the future now that fate was no longer forcing his hand. There was a loud crash as a chain collapsed into the snow a few minutes walk away, and soon after was the sound of shouts and cheering. Even those who had been here for long enough to know Narinder's presence were happily ridding this place of his presence. Alexander wondered if that was coincidence, or if something about this place encouraged such behaviour. "Ah, this is it." The collie announced, Alexander's thoughts being taken from him. His eyes falling onto a propped up against thin air. He tilted his head at the scene, despite being the god of death for so long now, he had never seen a door such as this before.

"How can you tell?" He asked.

The collie shook her head with a chuckle. "Seems you still have much to learn about this place." She took a step towards the door and it swung open. Darkness filled its interior, a stark contrast between the white background of the Veil. Alexander wanted to step closer to examine it, but he couldn't. Something, deep within his very soul told him: 'This is not yours'. In contrast to the Lamb's almost scrutinous gaze, the collie sighed in relief, and her wrinkled features softened into a fulfilled smile. "Thank you." She said, turning to Alexander, voice overflowing with gratitude. "For making my walk less lonely."

Alexander matched her smile. "Thank you, for all you've done for sheep kind. I'll never forget you, and I'll make sure the world never forgets what yo- ACK!"

She bonked him on the head with her cane. "You will do no such thing. Those I protected will remember me, that's enough. I don't want to be a saint or anything else, got it?" She interrupted with a disciplinary tone.

The Lamb rubbed his forehead, hissing quietly. "Ouch, okay I won't tell anybody else…" When she turned back towards the door again, he got curious. "…What do you see?" He unintentionally asked out loud.

The dog firmly planted her cane in the ground and took another step towards the doorway, her hands rubbing together again. "…Simpler times." With a smile on her face, she stepped into the darkness and the door closed behind her. It crumbled away, the shape reducing to snowflakes in the non-existent breeze, carrying her into the sky. He turned to the spot where she had planted her cane and saw it had gone too. No evidence of her remaining except for footprints in the snow, which too would soon be covered up and fade away. Just as she wished to be.

A sense of satisfaction welled up within him, 'Good job' it almost said to him. His reward for leading a soul to their peaceful rest. But with that satisfaction, so did a sense of grief. She couldn't come back, he knew this. He didn't know how, but something deep within him told him so. He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head respectfully, before turning and resuming his task of laying the souls to rest.

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

⛈️Boys of the Storm⛈️

Thought about the Elderly Trio again and ended up conjuring up a cute fluff fic about them <3

Enjoy the fluff! 😁

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @katblu42 @mariashades @room-on-broom @yarol2075 @llamawrites @etrnlvoid

-0-0-0-

The heavy rain crashed on the roof of their holiday cabin, wind howled loudly by their window and thunder boomed in the sky. They watched the trees sway and bend by the force of nature. Showing its terrible power.

"I hate storms!" The young Samuel Shore growled in dismay, thumping his foot near the well shut door with a big window, "They has always been a bad sign!"

Jeff Tracy, well off in his early 20's, smiled sympathetically and pointed at the said storm at the window.

"I'm sure it'll pass! Its not the first time we've gone through this," he said as he took a bite of the cooked fish cake on a stick.

The 15-year-old turned around with puffed up chest and a serious expression on his face in front of his older friend.

"My Uncle once said, 'Be wary of storms! They are a death sentence if yer don't gosh darn know how to navigate yer ship through them', " he jabbed his thumb towards his heart, "And I take his advice like its my precious memory!"

Jeff let out a heart-felt chuckle when he spotted the 12-year-old Charles Gray by the glass sliding doors. Sitting with his legs crossed, staring pensively at the chaos outside. Showing no reaction to the bright flash of lightning or the scary boom of thunder.

The young adult got up from his spot by the fireplace, gently asking Sammie to watch the fire and the food as he walked towards the doors, taking some of the fishcake sticks with him.

He sat down next to the young British boy, handing him one of the sticks to him.

Charles, without looking, took it wordlessly. Eyes kept on the dark skies as he began munching on his food.

"What were you thinking about, Charlie Boy?" Jeff asked, taking another bite of his fishcake.

"Aman..." the boy answered, his pronounced English accent combined with his quiet voice made it almost impossible to understand at first hearing.

"Pardon, could you repeat that again?" The young man raised a brow.

"I said, 'a man'."

With a sound of understanding, Jeff leaned in a little closer with curiousity.

"What man?" he gently asked.

After a small moment of silence, the dark-haired little boy replied.

"I was thinking about that man who gave me the most delicious sandwich."

"Oooh. Who was that man? A friend of yours?" his older friend perked up.

"No. A complete stranger. He's Japanese, that I remember... I wonder where he is now?" Charles spoke to himself and answering to Jeff at the same time.

Which it wasn't uncommon for his youngest friend to do. His head had always seemed to be in the clouds... and in reality, all at once.

He could be one scary decisive strategist, if he grows up to be one, Jefferson thought. Granted, he has yet to join the Air Force to know fully what a strategist does.

"So... Why did he gave you a sandwich?" he continued his questioning.

"Because I was sad. Remember, how I lost my grandfather?"

He remembered. His mother was friends with the Grays. And how the death of one their oldest family members devastated their son, as he used look up to the old Navy veteran.

And it was Jeff's idea for him and Samuel to befriend with the lonely at the time 6-year old Charlie.

However, when they got to met him, he had mysteriously perked up.

As if Charles had just met with a dawning sun in the horizon.

"So he was the guy who cheered you up then, huh?" was Sammie's huffed quip as the grumpy sea pup arrived at their spot, leaning above both of them.

"Shouldn't you be watching the fire?" Jeff smirked up at him.

"Aren't ya getting cold over here?" Samuel retorted, "Y'all becoming icebergs, by the way you're shaking..."

Charles immediately got up and walked directly to the fireplace. Chuckling, Sammie followed along with Jeff.

The oldest took his seat and threw another few logs into the still burning fire.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the two sea pups snuggled together under the blanket, Sammie taking two sticks of boiled prawns from the soup and passed one to Charles.

"So... About that man? You're thinking of finding him?" Jefferson began, taking his own stick of food.

"I want find him!" the English boy proclaimed through his mouthful of food.

Sammie, with an enormous grin, clapped his friend by the shoulder.

"We're with ya, buddy! We always do things together!" He then turned towards their older friend with bright glimmer in his eyes, "Right, Jeff?"

"Sure..." Jeff slowly nodded with a warm smile, "We will."

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Above Snakes

Pairings: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner ***slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!!, adult content including: talk of sexuality, elderly health (dementia), lots of swearing, smoking, some slight suggestive language, eventual smut, Sanny cowboy AU, buckle up cause this is not going to go where you think it is!

Word count: 5k

There wasn’t much to do in Sammy’s home town except farmin’ and ranchin’. Sam actually quite liked farming, or just taking care of his small garden around the side of the house. But he didn’t want to ruin that special interest by making it his work life too. So he turned to ranching, and he was good at it.

Maybe he was so good at herding cattle, wrangling horses, and taking care of all the little farm animals that ran amuck among the pens, because he was brought into it at a young age.

Jake and Josh never meant to go into business together. In fact they went to separate community colleges across town from each other just to try and separate for a while.

That didn’t last long, because as soon as they had their degrees they were back at home saving up money to start their own cattle business. Within a year they were in cahoots together with a name quickly gaining popularity at the sale yards across the state to start, with even more outreach spreading to the whole upper Midwest.

Riding horses came naturally to Sam as soon as he was barely old enough to mount one. His grandparents ran a farm that had been in their family for generations, and they had many horses on the old property.

Most of Sam’s oldest and fondest memories were summer breaks at the farm with his older brothers. Early mornings waking up to breakfast cooking in the quaint kitchen then bursting through the kitchen door to run in the fields as rusty farm equipment was worked on. They’d stay outside all day, taking a break on the porch for sandwiches and fresh squeezed lemonade, then back out into the summer heat.

Highschool was coming to an end for Sam when Jake and Josh came back home. Although Sam’s parents never pushed him to go to college like his brothers did, he felt like it was what he was supposed to do. So he went to college for half a year and ultimately decided he hated it. It was nothing like high school where Sam was popular and well liked by everyone- especially the girls. College was real mental work and he couldn’t just skate by on his charm.

Dropping out of college made Sam realize he really had no idea what he wanted to do with himself. Just about all he knew was taking care of plants and riding a horse. So he went to work for his brothers.

Working outside in the heat and the rain, the cold and the snow, wasn’t for everyone. Sam never minded much though despite the array of colorful swear words that constantly spilled from his mouth on the daily.

Ranch hands came and went around here. Some just temporary hands, some getting into trouble since again there wasn’t much to do in a small town, and some just not cut out for the job. From the moment Sam started though he was a constant, built to be in the elements, and occupying his otherwise uneventful time keeping himself out of trouble and hard at work.

Getting along with his fellow cowboys wasn’t always an easy job either. There was a stigma around here that cowboys were roughin’ tougin’ tobacco spittin’ menly men. That wasn’t Sam, never was and never would be. Though he could hold his own in a scrap, he was thin and wiry, and had long hair he was just about tired of getting caught in damn near everything but refused to cut. Some of the guys Sam had worked with in the past he was afraid only showered twice a week and didn’t know what moisturizer was.

Sam took care of his image even if he sometimes felt like he would never quite be able to be who he really wanted to be. Flaming homosexual was hardly the right word for it, but Sam wasn’t exactly trying to hide anything either. It was 2024 for god's sake and people in these small towns needed to learn that even an otherwise ordinary guy like himself could like both women and men and it be okay.

Recently Sam felt like the days drug on and on, and the cold nights were even longer. He’d have his fun a few nights a week, down at the dingy downtown bar on the corner of Elm street.

Kate was a beauty he couldn’t deny, and Tiff was firey both on the dance floor and in bed. There was even little Josette from the city that came around from time to time just to see Sam and get her fill. Even their presence couldn’t keep him warm anymore though. He felt like he was missing something and the more and more he wracked his brain trying to figure out what the hell it was that had him in the dumps for the past few weeks, the more he came to realize it was he never truly had an experience with another male before.

There had been crushes in the past, just a few. The first one early in highschool right after his brothers left for college. Sam realized he admired the varsity quarterback just a little too much. Discovering your sexuality at such a tender age is always hard, but falling for probably the straightest boy in school didn’t make it any easier.

Then there was Ethan the summer between highschool and college. He was a bit younger than Sam, having graduated the year after, but Sam remembered seeing him around just with a different crowd than he had run with.

He and Sam had become close friends when Ethan came to work on the ranch before he left for university. At first Sam tried to hide the feelings he started to develop, telling himself that he didn’t need to get involved with someone who was about to leave. Besides he never got any signals from Ethan that he was even interested in Sam that way. Then one night, under the stars as the cicadas sang a hypnotic summer melody, Ethan kissed him.

Nothing more came of it, the kiss happened and it was amazing, but Ethan still left. Sam learned from the experience though that even if someone didn’t blatantly express themself as queer all the time, didn’t mean that they weren’t.

He felt comfortable with that realization, more sure of himself than ever before, but besides Ethan he’d never had much of a chance to try again. All the men in town now were either twice Sam’s age and looking worse for wear, or were very clearly straight.

At least that was until he walked out of Josh’s office one afternoon after spending all morning rounding up some loose cows and repairing a hole in the fence down at one of their properties. He heard the sound of chains rattling and looked out towards the pens to see an unfamiliar figure latching a gate closed behind him.

Sam stopped in his tracks, studying the man who was dressed in black boots already covered in dirt and dust, light wash Levi’s that hugged every inch of that tantalizingly narrow waist, and a matching denim jacket thrown over a hoodie.

Once the gate was secure the man turned around, revealing to Sam that he really had never seen him before. He had fair skin, though Sam could already tell it probably gleamed golden with a tan in the summer. His features were sharp, but he had a softness to him, an inviting allure that drew Sam in with every step he took closer.

“Hey, I’m Daniel” he introduced himself to Sam who was still frozen. “Or Danny, either one works”. He pulled his hoodie down and Sam was pleasantly surprised to see a full head of nearly black curls hanging messily around his shoulders.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could come out Jake called over “Sammy!” making Sam’s face scrunch up in slight embarrassment and Danny smirk a little.

“It’s Sam” he corrected, snapping out of his momentary trance.

“This is Danny” Jake interrupted them and reintroduced his newest worker, “it’s his first day on the job so will you kind of show him the ropes?”

“No,” Sam said flatly, wiping the smile quickly off Danny’s face. “I’m busy. Besides it’s lunch time and I didn’t get a lunch break yesterday so I think you should treat me today, boss”.

“I just ate lunch” Jake replied with a sigh, but pulled out his wallet and fished around for some bills. “But Danny’s got to go into town for a few supplies for me. Told him to take the work truck”. He pulled out a few twenties and folded them around his thumb as he handed them to Sam then reached in his front pocket to pull out a pair of keys to give to Danny. “Take that, get some lunch down at the diner then pick up the order and head back”.

“Fine, whatever” Sam took the cash that Jake gave him and stuffed it into his front pocket, noticing out of the corner of his eye how Danny’s vision followed Sam’s hand down to his hip then lingered on his waist for a moment. He was good about picking up on the small things now, but he needed a little more than that to be sure.

He started towards the truck, not even looking back to holler over his shoulder “you comin’?” then he heard the rustle of boots against dirt as Danny hurried along.

In the truck Sam stared out the faded glass window of the worn in truck as Danny drove her from the dirt roads that led in and out of the ranch onto the highway. “You’re not from round here” Sam spoke up after a few minutes of agonizing silence.

“Nope, families from here though. My grandparents aren’t doing that great so I came up here to help them out for a while seein’ as I don’t have much else to be doin’” Danny replied.

Sam let his eyes pull from the bare fields that lined the small highway over towards Danny, seeing him steering the truck with one hand and the other resting high on his thigh. His eyes were fixed on the road, so Sam took a moment longer than he usually would to examine his side profile this time.

He had broad shoulders, and the hoodie he wore looked a little small for him, but then again his jeans were really tight too.

“Jake’s got me stayin in a camper out on the edge of the ranch. Just moved in last night; have to say it’s a little worse for wear, but I guess I can’t be complaining too much”.

Sam moved to looking out the window again, his chest starting to feel a little tight for some reason. Jake only let the temporary hands stay in the camper. That’s why it was pretty beat up, it had seen so many guys come in and out who couldn’t give less of a fuck if the place still stood for the next by the time they were done with it. He kind of pitied Danny for having to stay in there, but if he was it probably meant he had nowhere else to go.

“Why don’t you stay with your grandparents?”

Danny shifted in his seat, switching hands on the steering wheel and letting the other rest on the door. “Well, my grandma has dementia. It’s at its worst in the mornings and in the evenings. I tried staying with them a few times before I moved down here. It really stresses her out when she doesn’t know who I am and there’s just a random man in her house”.

“Oh” Sam didn’t expect Danny to open up about that after just having met him, but then again Sam did ask the question. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know”.

“It’s alright, I go to visit them on Wednesdays and Fridays for lunch when she’s most alert. It’s a 50/50 chance if she will recognize me but I make sure they’re getting all their medication and help them clean up a little”.

“That’s awfully kind of you” Sam thought about his own grandparents and how he’d do just about anything for them. Although they had gotten up there in age, they still farmed what they could and had a few retired horses from the ranch they took care of that Sam sometimes visited. That’s probably why Jake gave him a job, they all had a soft spot for grandparents.

“Turn right here” Sam instructed, pointing to the street the diner he frequented was on.

“Chelsea’s?” Danny asked as he pulled into the crowded parking lot. He was looking around town like he recognized a few of the places, but mostly was unsure.

They hopped out of the truck, the sound of the doors squeaking and slamming shut behind them and then the gravel under their boots as they made their way across the lot.

“Well hey there Sammy, haven’t seen you round here in a while” little Mrs. Suzy greeted them as soon as they walked through the door.

“Jake’s got me workin’ all day and night. Worked up a big appetite!” Sam nodded to her and waved Danny along to go sit in her section as she grabbed a few coffee mugs and menus.

“Lookin good today Suzy” Sam quietly commented this time with a sly smile as she set the mugs down then grabbed a pot of steaming coffee. She poured Sam’s mug first, the same smile pulled on her pinkened lips.

“None for me, thanks” Danny held his hand over his mug when she moved to fill it next.

“Who’s your friend here?” She questioned Sam like Danny couldn’t answer for himself.

“This here is Daniel. He’s our new hand”.

“Howdy” Danny but in anyways and greeted her. Sam sat back and let him converse with her for a second.

“You gonna be comin’ round her more often too then?” She questioned, letting one of her hips pop out a bit causing Danny’s eyes to flick over her body. Sam scoffed and leaned back against the booth. Maybe he was gonna be just like all the others if he was already making eyes at Suzy.

“We will see how he does out in the pins later today and maybe I’ll bring him out again”.

Suzy smiled again and shook her head, turning to give them a few minutes to look over the menu and check on her other patrons.

“Better cool it with her” Sam mentioned once she was out of earshot, and Danny looked up from the menu with a puzzled look. “She’s married to Tommy McVain, sheriff's son, and I don't want to be bothered by the fuzz every time I’m in town”.

“My bad…” Danny sheepishly replied, though he’d honestly only been following Sam’s lead. He wondered how it was Sam was able to get away with flirting with her but decided he’d better not ask right now.

“You boys know what you want?” Suzy came back to take their orders, and this time Danny noticed the thin gold band around her left ring finger as she wrote down on her pad. “Alright, be right out”.

Sam didn’t bother with much chit chat while they ate, and he left a bigger tip than Danny imagined on the table as they stacked their plates together and headed back out to the truck.

“Mind if I drive back?” Sam asked after they picked up the order, filling the back of the truck with feed and a couple of tools. Danny tossed him the keys and they swapped places, Danny sliding into the passengers side and Sam getting behind the wheel.

Sam pulled out of the parking lot, kicking up a pile of dust and making Danny grab at the door to keep himself upright. No wonder Jake had given him the keys to drive.

They hit the highway in no time, leaving the town behind them and heading back towards the ranch. “When we get back we’ll unload the back. I’ll show you where everything goes then we will get to work with the horses. You know anything about horses?”

“Little bit” Danny replied and Sam’s eyes flicked over to see him picking at his fingernails. He seemed to be nervous to be heading back already, like he knew he was about to get his ass handed to him. Sam smirked, at least he had enough sense to be worried.

“That’s Josh’s office, sure you're aware if you’ve been hired n’ all” Sam threw his hand towards the small building he’d emerged from earlier when they’d met. “Pens you were at are A&B. They hold the stock we’re getting ready to move to the show yard. That’s probably why Jake had you gettin’ familiar with it, we need the most hands there”. Danny’s eyes wandered around, trying to gain his sense of direction as much as possible after only a few hours of having foot on the property.

They hauled a bag each of feed past those pins and around the back of the office revealing a small barn in the distance, adjacent to some stables. “That there is pens C, and around that way,” Sam pointed out to the far left, “pens D. Four pens on the north side of the ranch and two on the south”.

“E and F?” Danny questioned as they reached the barn and set their large bags down.

“What?” Sam asked, a little out of breath. Danny didn’t seem too bothered though.

“Those pens E and F on the south side? Given over here we’ve got A, B, C, and D”.

Sam chuckled, that would certainly make sense, but no one had ever asked him that before. “No, those pins don’t have a name, but if I had to name em it’d be ‘Shit’ and ‘Fuck’. Hate those pens. That’s where we send the mean bitches that can’t go to the shows. Plus there’s a lot of snakes out there, have to watch your every step”.

“Anyone ever told you you’ve got a very colorful mouth?” Danny asked next, a bit of playfulness in his tone.

Yeah, I’ve got a very talented mouth too. Sam wanted to reply, but he still wasn’t too sure how Danny would take that just yet so instead he just bit his tongue.

Danny’s playfulness subsided as Sam showed him the saddles, naming off which ones were claimed by who, and which were fair game for the rest. “This one’s Bobby’s” he pointed to the largest saddle hanging up. It looked pretty worn but still in good use. “Jake’s” an all black saddle, subtle but flashy and seemed to fit him pretty well based on Danny’s initial impression of him. “And mine” lastly there was the most worn in one. It looked like it had been tossed over the banister so many times that the posts were starting to be knocked loose from the dirt under the weight.

Sam picked up his saddle and motioned for Danny to choose any of the others. Once Danny had his in hand they walked over to the stables, Sam strapping on the buckles and eyeing Danny the entire time trying to make sure he at least knew how to cinch properly. He did a pretty good job, even with eyes on his back, then they guided their horses out of the barn before mounting them.

“Today's Thursday, means I got to check on the mares down by the pond. Few colts out there too but it’s about to be time to separate them and get them out to auction” Sam mentioned as he clicked his tongue and put his horse into motion.

“You breed horses too?” Danny asked as he followed closely behind. He knew Jake and Josh had quite a bit of cattle to tend to which is what he was hired for, but he hadn’t heard about the horses.

“Just me; took it up on my own shortly after I started cowboying. Next week will be my first show. Spent a lot of time eatin’ dirt trying to break them too, better pay off or else Josh will be havin’ a fit”.

“Next week? Mind if I come?”

Sam glanced back to see Danny staring at him as they made their way through the pasture out to where he saw a scattering of horses grazing. “We’ll see what Jake has in the books for you, but if he doesn’t have you workin’ your ass off already then I don’t see why not”.

Normally Sam wouldn’t consider allowing just anyone to just tag along like that, especially someone he didn’t know an inkling about, but something about Danny pulled Sam in. He was curious to get to know him, spend some time with him since there weren’t very many new people around here to be entertained by, and damn was he really good to look at too.

“So, you ever ride a horse this young before?” Sam proposed Danny, calling him over to one of the brown colored colts. Its mane was a silky chestnut that matched the color of Sam’s locks he had pulled back into a messy low bun.

“How young we talking?” Danny countered, coming forward to reach out and touch the horse's muscular neck. It tried to yank its head away, but Sam steadied him so Danny could reach out again and make contact this time.

“Three, gonna be four in the spring” Sam answered, watching for Danny's reaction with a smirk.

“No, definitely not that young”. Danny knew a little about horses, at least enough that he never had the desire to ride an unbroken horse before. Sam’s mischievous look seemed to have his mind set though.

“I ride them a couple times a week, for only about a half an hour or so. It will save me a lot of time if you helped out”. Sam left him with the brown horse he’d become slightly acquainted with and selected his own to ride. “You get that one, go get your saddle if you want”.

“And you?” Danny studied Sam’s moves. He had been around these horses the most, he knew their behaviors and they knew him. It would be best for Danny to mimic him for the time being until they got used to him as well.

“I like to ride bareback”. Sam’s smirk returned as he gracefully used his upper body strength to jump and swung his leg around to successfully mount.

Okay, you can do this, Danny hyped himself up, again trying to follow Sam’s actions. He jumped and managed to get his leg over but he felt like he’d over shot and nearly fell of the other side before straightening himself out with a shaky exhale.

“Alright, I’ve got four so if we each take two then we should be done in a little over an hour”. With a kick of his leg Sam had the horse trotting around easily, just trying to get it used to having a rider. Which from the looks of it he’d done a pretty good job so far.

After thirty minutes they dismounted and switched to the two others. Danny’s calves were already sore from riding this way, it took a lot more leg strength to stay balanced without a saddle, but he had to agree he did like the intimacy it brought.

Sam watched again out of the corner of his eye as Danny managed to mount again, but as soon as he was nearly settled on the back of the next horse, it was bucking him off.

Danny hit the ground with a groan, he’d been tricked by the first horse to think he was going to be alright, but this one had put him in his place quickly.

“He’s the youngest, bucks everyone off but me” Sam snickered as Danny picked himself up off the dirt and dusted off his backside.

“And you let me try to ride him anyhow?”

Sam shrugged, “we've all got to learn somehow”.

After checking on the horses they put their saddles up and made their way back to the pens and Sam showed him around a little bit more until Jake called Danny away.

“What you think of that one?” Josh questioned after emerging from his office for some fresh air.

“He’s doing good so far, not as skilled as some of the others come through here, but he seems like he’s going to catch on fast” Sam replied, crossing his arms and watching as Jake and Danny checked some of the cows hooves. Jake was a professional farrier so any advice Danny could get from him would be good for use.

“He’s quiet, but I think that’s a good thing” Josh continued, turning his gaze to his younger brother. “Hope he sticks around for a while”. He clapped his hand over Sam’s shoulder and went back to his office, leaving Sam trying not to read into the suggestive look he gave him.

A few more hours of work and the sun was starting to set early when Jake let the two of them go.

“You’ll show him the way back to the camper?” Jake asked of Sam after they ensured everything was back in its place and all the animals were safe for the night.

“I guess” Sam agreed reluctantly, but only because his place was on the way. Sam stayed in a small barely six hundred square feet one bedroom that had come with the property when his brothers bought it.

Neither of them had ever had the desire to live in it, deciding instead to purchase houses nearby once business started to take off, but Sam didn’t mind. He liked being the closest, in case anything happened he could be the first to respond and that had probably saved a few calves' lives over the years.

It was about a fifteen minute walk down another gravel road to Sam’s, then another seven or so to the camper which was located behind the house.

“This is me. Just keep following this and you will reach the camper” Sam pointed down the gravel road that turned more into a path in the dirt carved out by tire tracks.

“You got anything extra to eat in there?” Danny asked as he nervously took a step towards Sam again instead of on his own way. “I haven’t had the chance to go grocery shopping to stock up the camper yet”.

Sam sighed, why hadn’t he said anything in town earlier? Then he thought back on it, Danny did eat rather frantically at lunch. Maybe he hadn’t been eating well for a while. “You smoke?”

“Smoke?” Danny wasn’t sure what smoking had to do with food, or what kind of smoking Sam was referring to, but he did know that he was starving and didn’t want to go to bed yet, better yet hungry.

“If you’re going to stay for dinner then we’re gonna smoke first”. Sam flicked on his tiny porch light and disappeared inside for a while, door wasn’t even locked, before returning with a plastic bag and a dull colored glass pipe. He pulled out a pair of lawn chairs that were resting along the front of the house and set them next to each other, motioning for Danny to have a seat.

“One thing you should know about me is that occasionally after a long day's work I like to sit outside and get baked. Helps counteract the monotony of it all”.

“Do you not like cowboying?” Danny asked as he took the seat next to Sam and watched him pack the bowl. Little did Sam know Danny was a bit of a stoner himself only he didn’t know very many people in town yet to get the hookups from.

“I do” Sam replied, flicking his lighter on and taking a hit between words, “I like working with the horses most of all, but I’ve seen guys come and go often enough to get bored of it”.

He passed the bowl to Danny who took it carefully, then the lighter, watching him curiously again as Danny took the next hit easily. “Bet that gets a little lonely then. I mean you’ve got your brothers, but you’re out here by yourself most of the time huh?”

Sam nibbled on his lip as Danny spoke, he was hitting pretty spot on, but he didn’t want to make a big deal of it right now. He’d spent all day trying to set an image of himself that he was strong and independent. He didn’t want Danny leaving already thinking Sam was lonely, even if it was true.

“Of you’ll let me, I can keep you company for a while?” Danny suggested as he passed the pipe back.

“I don’t know, I kind of like my privacy” Sam took another inhale, already feeling the static start to work its way through his extremities and into his head.

“Give me a few nights,” Danny smiled, making Sam start a coughing fit from breathing in too hard. “I think I’ll grow on you”.

“Sure,” the smoke was clearly already starting to affect his decision making as he easily agreed to hanging out with Danny in the late evenings, “a couple of nights and we’ll see if I don’t want to kick your teeth in by then”.

The nervousness returned for a moment but Danny didn’t back down as they finished the bowl then Sam showed him inside and started making some dinner.

He didn’t have Danny pegged quite yet, he was picking up a lot of mixed signals from him all day, but he brushed them off as first day jitters and getting used to a new situation. If anything, Danny seemed like a pretty cool guy- especially now that they were both stoned out of their minds.

Sam thought he could enjoy his company for a while, just reminded himself to keep his distance so he didn’t get hurt again.

A/N: Thanks for reading my new work! (If you saw any typos or grammar mistakes no you didn’t) I hope you are as excited for this as I am! As I said up there, I’ve already got a few events lined up for this AU. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know ☺️

[juleshollow]

Saddest moments in SH?

When Tabitha sacrifices her years and, for a while, she just lays on the ground. Defeated. With her back to us; hiding her face, her weakness, her grief. Because she bears her misfortune alone, and yet she has an audience. She doesn’t have the strength to run, so she uses her frail body as a shield. At the very least, she deserves privacy to deal with her pain, but even that is denied.

She's silent and at first you don't know if she's physically unable to say anything. But she responds, if feebly, when Sybil refers to her. It's not that she can't speak, it's that she's so overwhelmed that she needs a moment to come to terms with what's happened. Her life was cut short, and now she'll be a young woman trapped in an elderly body until her untimely death.

Not that she ever got the chance to actually be young, anyway. Tabitha has suffered all her life. We don't know the extent of the abuse she was subjected to, but we catch some glimpses of it. Tabitha closes up whenever we mention her mother, but the people in town tell us a bit more about her character. We can only imagine what it was like living with such a manipulative, negative woman. At home, Tabitha would have been the only target of her malice.

She has always been under tight control, never free to make her own choices. Even after Pearlanne's death, she's stuck with the family business: a job she hates for people who hate her, with great stakes and no way of success. She's doomed to fail, yet she keeps trying, making everything worse in the process. Knowing that everyone in town despises her for it. But she can't stop.

There's something else, something we only suspect for now, but that suspicion is so dark that it surrounds Tabitha in misery. She might have been trying to get pregnant out of duty, to ensure the Scarlet line goes on. She's forced to breed, as if she was an animal. She has no agency whatsoever, even when it comes to her own body and offspring. Because she’s been conditioned to accept orders.

The only time she found happiness was with Stella. With her, she could actually experience something that comes with being a teenager instead of the adult concerns that were always on her mind. Guys… that might have been the first time Tabitha felt loved (...the only time). And it meant that she was, in fact, deserving of love. That her worth was not tied to fulfilling her duty. She could just be a kid, be happy, love and be loved.

Then Pearlanne took that away from her. Tabitha was alone, again. She was hit by the inevitability of her destiny – a painful destiny. Only now it was worse, because she had experienced a happier alternative. Now she knew what she was missing. What she would always miss. Always out of her reach, just close enough to be a constant reminder of her loss.

The sacrifice of one’s years would be too high of a price for anyone, but Tabitha had already paid way too much. She was cursed from birth. Do you realize? There is nothing in her life that she wants. Nothing. And now she’s even deprived of her vitality, her health. So she sits there, swallowing the tragedy that has struck her again. Taking a moment before having to deal with her nightmare of a life with yet another burden, one too heavy.

And you know what? She did it for us. Because, despite her façade as cold and insensitive, of course she feels. She’s just not allowed to show it. And she’s grown fond of us even when she tried to distance herself. We don’t know what ulterior motive led her to invite us to Scarlet Hollow, but she didn’t have to take this fall. But she understands all too well how unfair the sacrifice is, because she’s been dealing with injustice all her life. She knows the pain and she can’t bear to see us going through it. So she comes forward and takes it, thinking that we don���t deserve such harsh punishment. And then she lies there, contemplating…

“What about me? Do I deserve this?”

[house-steiner-stays-winning]

Dieter sat, poring over the screen before him, displaying a list of possible contractors dozens of names long. It had been a long and arduous selection process, starting from no less than a hundred candidates before slowly whittling out the inferior options until only the creme of the crop remained, the very best of the very best.

After all, he couldn't trust the catering for his sister's wedding to just anyone, now could he? However, wedding planning was a poor distraction from the task at hand, and he knew it.

At length, Dieter finished the cup of coffee at his side, the hot, bitter drink warming his chest as he collected his things. With a sigh, he stood, abandoning the comfort of his armchair to prepare for his meeting at the First Lord's estate. While he'd thankfully been able to avoid the inevitable meeting (and subsequent conflict) with the man so far, his lackeys were positively inescapable, and today he had a meeting with the Assistant to the Secretary of the Treasury to go over his budgetary proposal for the fourth time this week.

Even worse, Dieter would be unable to bring his mother's gun with him, as there were no unauthorized firearms allowed within a 5 Kilometer radius of the First Lord's palace, a fair precaution considering how the First Star League ended. So, loathe to be deprived of a weapon entirely, Dieter buckled on his swordbelt, it's plain steel pommel and unadorned black scabbard almost disappearing amongst the ostentatious folds of his lush cape and sash.

As he stepped into the october air, he was thankful for the warmth his cape provided, the autumn cold of Unity City reddening his cheeks.

At the curb, waiting for him, was the car he'd hailed a few minutes prior, and in moments they were speeding towards the palace with all haste.

Unity City truly was a unique place, Dieter reflected, staring out of the tinted windows and at the throng of people on the sidewalks. So many times had this world changed hands, and yet it's populace still soldiered on, a forced grin on their faces as they affected the trappings of utopia to hide the scars that yet lingered in their collective psyche. The elderly, who'd had their eyes seared by nuclear fire in the wrath of a bygone generation, looked on in jaded anticipation, waiting for the next disaster to overtake the cradle of mankind, as the youth charged bull-headed into the shining future built on the bones of countless millions.

As the car brought him to the security checkpoint of the palace, he thanked the driver and gave him a sizable tip, in thanks for his haste. As the car sped off, Dieter allowed himself to be searched, his sword overlooked as nothing more than the ceremonial decoration of a foppish politician, and hurried into the courtyard, striding confidently in the direction of the Treasury Department.

However, before he could make it even halfway across the immense, manicured gardens that made up the front courtyard of the palace, an enraged voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Steiner!" The voice shouted, loud enough that Dieter couldn't possibly ignore it. With a sigh, he turned around to face whatever idiot had chosen to accost him this time.

It was a well-built young man, dressed in the finery of the nobility, with the house crest of one of Terra's most prestigious families embroidered on his chest. He was muscled, but not overly so, in the manner of someone who had easy access to appetite suppressants and steroids and yet could still only barely be bothered to keep in shape.

"Steiner," the man shouted again, drawing close, "You've got a lot of nerve, stepping foot on this planet!" He said this with a tone that suggested that Dieter should know what he'd done to offend the young man, which made it all the more embarrassing that he had no idea who the idiot was.

"Not the first time I've heard that." He remarked, hoping the man would elaborate so that he could go about defusing the situation. However, red began to creep up the man's neck, his voice rising in volume as he spat out an angry accusation.

"You brought my father to ruin," he said, venom dripping from his words. "And now you mock me? You truly are the lowest type of scum."

Before Dieter could even check himself, his mouth opened and he let a retort fly.

"I've brought a lot of men to ruin. You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid." Internally, he cursed his big mouth as the man before him drew a blade, a wicked, curved saber that gleamed in the midday sun.

"Now, now," Dieter cautioned, placing a hand on his own blade. "let's not be has-" However, his words were lost amidst the young noble's animal screams of fury.

"You'll die for that!" The man screamed as he leapt for Dieter with his blade extended, and as the blade rushed down like the headsman's axe, Dieter moved.

[steiger4044]

Watching Blue Bloods and working on another chapter of How a Dimitrescu Heart Beats, gave me inspiration to do a small scene. Since I love the game character Bela Dimitrescu and imagine her and the others in a modern au crossover with Blue Bloods…lol I don’t know. I’m hyped for the new and final season of blue bloods this fall too, and love Tom selleck too. Anyways enough rambling I did a small scene I can imagine happening in the cross over universe. Since it’s also September as we approach that tragic day at it’s the 23rd anniversary this month too. Anyways enjoy the read.

Whispers in the Garden of Memory

Lower Manhattan, September 11 Memorial

Bela Dimitrescu walked through the bustling streets of Lower Manhattan, the crisp autumn air doing little to cool the emotional firestorm within her. Dressed in a black leather jacket over a simple grey sweater, her casual jeans and boots kept her grounded, even as her thoughts drifted back to a time when everything was different. The familiar route she took every year was one she knew well, but today, it felt heavier—each step echoing with memories of the past.

Her destination was a small flower shop, nestled quietly between two imposing buildings. The shop had a warmth to it, with its bright window display and the sweet scent of fresh flowers wafting into the street, offering a brief respite from the cold reality outside. Bela pushed the door open, and the soft chime of the bell announced her arrival.

“Bela, dear,” came the warm greeting from Mrs. Whitaker, the elderly owner who had come to know Bela well over the years. Her hands were already moving towards the white roses as she spoke.

“Just one today, as usual?” Mrs. Whitaker asked, her smile soft but knowing.

“Yes, please,” Bela replied, her voice quiet but steady. She watched as Mrs. Whitaker selected a perfect white rose, wrapping it carefully in tissue paper with the precision and respect that had become a comforting ritual.

When the older woman handed the rose to her, Bela’s fingers closed around it gently, as if holding something fragile and precious. “Thank you, Mrs. Whitaker.”

“Take care, Bela,” Mrs. Whitaker said kindly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Give him my regards.”

Bela nodded, unable to find the words to respond as she stepped back into the bustling street, the rose in her hand feeling like an anchor in the storm of her emotions. She walked the short distance to the 9/11 Memorial, her thoughts consumed by the past—the day her father, Dragos Iones-Dimitrescu, was taken from her, and with him, a piece of her soul.

The Memorial Plaza came into view, the pools where the Twin Towers once stood reflecting the blue sky above. The water cascaded down into the depths, mirroring the void left in the hearts of those who had lost loved ones. Bela made her way to the South Tower Memorial Pool, her steps slowing as she approached a name engraved in the stone—Dragos Iones-Dimitrescu.

Her father’s name stood out among the thousands, etched in stone as deeply as it was in her heart. Dragos had been an accountant manager for Alcina Dimitrescu’s winery, a position that had brought him into the orbit of the powerful Lady Dimitrescu herself. It was through this role that he had met her mother, Alcina, and built a life together, raising Bela and her sisters in a world where old traditions and new challenges intersected.

Kneeling beside the pool, Bela placed the white rose gently next to her father’s name, her fingers tracing the letters. The memories flooded back—of a time when they had stood together at the top of the South Tower, before it became a monument of loss.

“Hi, Dad,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat as she remembered that day. “I was just thinking about when we went to the top of the tower together. I was so young, and it felt like we were on top of the world, didn’t it? I remember you told me, ‘The world is there, Bela—you just have to make sure you choose how you want to have it.’ Those words have stayed with me, guiding me through everything.”

She paused, drawing in a shaky breath. “I think about you every day, Dad. About how much you loved what you did, how you made everything seem possible. Mom misses you too, though she’d never admit it. She still runs the vineyard, keeping it all together like she always does, but I see the way she looks at your picture sometimes. She tries to hide it, but I know.”

Her voice softened as she spoke of her family. “Cassandra’s doing well—still as tough as ever, and still keeping an eye on me, even though she knows I can handle myself. Daniela’s bookstore is thriving. You’d love it, Dad. She’s put so much of herself into it, and I see that same spark in her that you always had. She’s still that bright light that keeps us all going.”

Bela smiled through her tears, her thoughts turning to her uncles. “Uncle Heisenberg is still tinkering away in his workshop. You’d probably laugh at the things he’s come up with. He acts tough, but I know he misses you just as much as the rest of us. And Uncle Moreau… he’s dedicated to saving lives, just like he always has been. He talks about you often, how you inspired him to make a difference. He misses you greatly, Dad, but he’s channeling that into his work, helping as many people as he can.”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she continued, her heart aching with the love and loss intertwined in her soul. “Angie’s growing up so fast. She’s got that same drive you had, that same passion. I see so much of you in her, in the way she throws herself into everything she does. I just… I wish you could see it all. I wish you could be here.”

Her voice cracked as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against her father’s name. “I miss you, Dad. I miss you so much.”

For a moment, Bela stayed there, letting the silence envelop her, the rose resting beside the name that had shaped so much of her life. She was about to rise when she sensed someone behind her. Turning, she saw NYPD Commissioner Frank Reagan standing a few feet away, flanked by his security detail. The commissioner’s presence was both commanding and comforting, his expression one of quiet understanding.

“Officer Dimitrescu,” he greeted her, his voice a deep, steady anchor in the sea of her emotions. “It’s good to see you.”

Bela blinked, surprised to see him there. “Commissioner Reagan… I didn’t expect to see you here, sir.”

Frank Reagan stepped closer, his eyes reflecting a shared grief, a mutual respect. “This place holds a lot of memories for many of us. I come here to remember, to honor those who gave everything. Your father was a good man, and he’s remembered well.”

The sincerity in his words hit Bela deeply, and she fought to keep her composure as she nodded. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

The commissioner placed a hand on her shoulder, a gesture that carried the weight of both authority and compassion. “Your father would be proud of you, Bela. Proud of the woman you’ve become, the officer you are. You’re making a difference, every day, just like he did.”

Bela felt the truth in his words, the connection between past and present, between what was lost and what remained. She managed a small, grateful smile, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, sir. I… I try to live up to his example.”

Frank Reagan nodded, his gaze steady, offering the wisdom of someone who had walked a similar path. “You’re doing more than that. You’re honoring his legacy by living your life with purpose, with dedication. It’s not an easy road, but it’s the right one. And remember, you’re not alone. The NYPD is a family—we’re here for each other.”

Bela nodded, the weight on her heart lifting slightly at his words. “I will, sir. Thank you.”

The commissioner gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Take care of yourself, Officer Dimitrescu. And if you ever need to talk, my door is always open.”

With a final nod, he turned and walked away, his security detail following. Bela watched him go, a sense of peace settling over her as she turned back to the memorial. The single white rose lay against her father’s name, a symbol of enduring love, of a bond that transcended even the greatest loss.

As she stood, Bela felt a renewed strength, a clarity of purpose. She would continue to honor her father, not just in words but in the way she lived her life—in every action, every decision. She would carry him with her, a guiding light in the darkness, a whisper in the garden of her memory.

With a deep breath, she walked away from the memorial, her resolve strengthened. The world was hers to choose, just as her father had said, and she would make sure she chose it well.

[optimismxmagicism]

TOA Anniversary Munday

(TY for the template Neffi!)

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: Queen

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday (no year): October 18th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Netherlands, CEST

How long is your roleplay experience? Uhhh about 10 years now I'd say?

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? Gamefaqs had a thread where you could create your own Fire Emblem Fates character. I joined out of curiosity when i was like 13 or so and things just kinds went from there.

How were you introduced to TOA? Rosie, my online big sis, sometimes shared snippets of her experiences with me. I got curious and the rest is history.

Do you have any pets? I have an elderly doggy named Beef :)

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Winter, definitely. I'm a cold over heat kinda girlie and I like the early nights and cold weather. Perfect for soup!

What is your IRL occupation? IT support service worker and Maid Cafe waitress during the weekends.

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? I'm big into cooking, gardening and cleaning.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Final Fantasy, Genshin Impact, Persona, Danganronpa, Pokemon, Tales of, Uchikoshi games, just to name a few. Also big into Otomes and BL games.

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Fairy! Favorite is probably Sylveon and Vivillon.

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! - I am an auntie to 3 adorable little nephews. Love babysitting them :) - Truly I am a girly girly girl. I love pink and cute things and all that goodness. Always have firmly believed that femininity is strength and anyone who disagreed with me has been ground to dust under my heels :) - I used to have a YT channel where I uploaded my own vocaloid covers. I stopped though because I lost interest and the videos gained little traction.

How did you get into Fire Emblem? *Deep sigh* Ike x Marth Yaoi during the Smash Bros Brawl days.... This was before I knew anything about either character and just thought they looked cute together.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? All of them except for Gen 2 of Genealogy (glitches killed that run) as well as Thracia. I'll get to them someday...

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: My First game was Shadow Dragon. My favorite is a tie between Sacred Stones and Three Houses

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! Ashe, Ewan, Nils, Nina, Dimitri

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Wolf. This was because I was still young and just entered my "started liking boys that weren't squeaky clean" phase.

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 Dimitri.. If you know me you know I'm down horrendous. Sorry kwdjwkdj. Chrom and Xander are also hot.

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: Chrom forever and always. - Fates: Tsubaki was my first. Nowadays its Xander, Jakob or Shigure. - Three Houses: Dimitri. Its always Dimitri. If I play BL and I don't choose Dimitri I have been killed and replaced. - Engage: Diamant was my first! I also really liked Kagetsu and Amber.

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Dancer!

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? I'd be the cleric that needs to be babied at first but gives cracked heals later on. High magic/speed/resistance, low Strength/Defense.

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) Blue Lions baybeeeeeeee

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons: Faith Reason Authority - Banes: Axes, Brawling, Heavy Armor

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) Wherever Kagetsu's from.

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) To-ah.

Current TOA muses: Ewan, Nils, Byleth M

Past TOA muses? Uhhh from the top of my head: Saleh, Rolf, Nina, Takumi, Male Corrin.

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Ewan was my first! I don't think I'll be dropping him for a long time as he's just become so special to me :)

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? Characters that put up a front of being easygoing or simple, but have a lot of inner troubles they hide from others. Those that like to make others happy.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Very masculine types. Manly Men or Muscle Himbos are characters I greatly enjoy but just don't like to write.

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? I like writing scenes where characters bond with each other, either over an earnest heart to heart or silly shenanigans.

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? I would love to write a scene where the mask just fully crumbles and the entire truth is revealed about my muses deepest feelings. Also for Byleth specifically I'd love to write post timeskip scenes where he's in touch with his emotions and takes on the role of Archbishop.

Favorite TOA-related memories? A specific one was Andrei's turnaround on Ewan during the halloween candy game. It was one of the first major bonds Ewan would end up developing.

Present or past tense? I Try to say I'm past tense mostly but sometimes I jumble things up a little.

Normal size text, small text, no preference? I've started trying small text recently, but I'd say I have no real preference.

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 Nope! I think I'm set for now. There is one character that, If the opportunity ever arises I'd want to get but not right now.

[thelaisydazy]

The Chains of Devotion

Chapter 1

Prologue

Wafting incense and cheers met the lamb as they looked over their flock, their adoring flock of followers.

“Good morning everyone,” the lamb cooed, smiling sweetly. Holding out a hand, the red crown atop their head floated and transformed into a thick, leather bound tome. They skimmed over the records of sermons past, lists of rituals and names of followers long since passed, naturally or otherwise. “Today we celebrate the life and passing of the devoted Pagre.” The tome snapped shut and the lamb swept their hand forward, beckoning the elderly otter towards the center of the ritual circle. “Pagre, you’ve served our congregation for many moons and now it is time for you to take your rest.” The elder smiled and held out his arms, closing his eyes to accept his fate.

The lamb smiled back before holding out their own arms. They closed their eyes for a brief moment before the power of the red crown crackled through the thick air and they rose from the floor, bathed in a crimson glow. The pentagram beneath the otter lit in purple flame as a portal to the gateway opened above. Pagre was lifted from where he stood, faltering only a moment before raising through the portal and vanishing in a flash of bright white light, the clattering of his cane on the wooden temple floor the only sign he’d ever existed.

As the ritual came to an end, the lamb lowered to the floor and blinked the bloody redness from their eyes, looking out over their enamored following. “He will be greatly missed and we will forever remember all that he gave to us.”

—

“He could have lived a few more years,” came a quiet voice.

The lamb looked up from the coins they’d been counting. A nearly black cat covered in red sigils approached, tidying the sleeves on their red robe.

“Maar,” the lamb smiled stickily. “Pagre grew weary, it was time for him to go on to greener pastures. He deserves rest.” They fastened the pouch that held the gold coin and put it away, turning their full attention towards their spouse. “Although if you were so attached I'd be happy to bring him back.” The lamb tapped their chin thoughtfully. “He’d probably be able to work a few more years as well..”

“You should have let him live out his life naturally, as intended,” Maar bristled, stepping up to the podium at the head of the temple. “It’s so rare we see elders, they deserve to enjoy what time they have left.”

The lamb advanced, meeting Maar, wrapping a bandaged arm around their waist. “The good die young, sweet Maar,” the lamb purred sympathetically. “You know that..” The lamb lifted a hand, pressing it to Maar’s forehead. “You must be unwell my dear.. perhaps we should stop by the healing tent.”

Maar shoved the lamb away, baring their teeth. “You and I both know that isn’t true!” they hissed. “That is a lie you tell the others so that you can keep murdering those who grow too old to work!” They dug their claws into the podium, scaring the wood. “This has to end Lambert. You aren’t this cold.”

If the lamb’s heart could beat it would have shuttered in their chest at the sound of their name. Coming from Maar they could listen to it again and again. Gods below it was a wonderful sound.

“Where is this coming from lovely?” Lambert asked more softly. “Have I done something to hurt you? If I did, you have my most sincere apologies.”

Maar snarled then, their anger boiling now. “Don’t lovely me,” Maar spat. “I tolerated your sacrifices, even turned a blind eye to your... indulgences. But killing the loyal once they’re too old? That’s where I draw the line.” Claws gripped Lambert’s collar, pulling them close enough to Maar’s face to feel their breath. “That is where I can no longer stand down. This ends or there will be consequences.”

Red flashed in their eyes and their hand gripped Maar’s throat, lifting them from the floor. “You dare threaten me?” they bellowed, tightening their grip on the cat. “I brought you in when you were nothing. You owe me your very life.” They threw their spouse to the temple floor, crimson arcane energy like static around the pair. “Do not question me again!”

Maar scrambled to their feet, fleeing from the temple and leaving their lamb to their rage.

—

Red camelia flowers appeared under Maar’s nose, their sweet smell almost intoxicating. They looked up at their once lovely lamb, who looked down at them with an old warmth, like the embers of a candle long snuffed out. There was a new scar across their cheek, it was shallow but fresh. Feeling the gaze of the rest of the camp on the pair, the feline took hold of the bouquet and forced a grateful smile. “You’re so thoughtful,” they murmured.

“Anything for you,” Lambert cooed, nuzzling against the top of their head. The lamb then swept away, handing off a bag of food to another follower before vanishing into the temple.

“Aren’t they sweet?” a fluffy yellow duck sighed. “You’re so lucky Maar!”

“I suppose I am..” Maar said, looking off towards the temple.

—

The night was cool and quiet. Maar was curled up in their shared tent with two of Lambert’s other spouses: Noryn and Tybrena. Noryn was a little gray mouse, sweet as camelia flowers and just as delicate. Maar still remembered Lambert coming to them early one morning before the sermon, warning her that the mouse had begged them to marry her and that they simply could not deny such a sweet creature. Tybrena, a strong-looking raccoon, had approached Maar about proposing to the lamb, asking for their blessing. Maar, recently wounded by the lamb’s marriage to Noryn, lacked the strength to threaten her away from their spouse. The raccoon at least tried to be a friend, offering a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear when Maar needed it. 

Sleep had not yet found Maar,they’d never seen the lamb so wild. Perhaps they were overreacting. Pagre’s death had looked peaceful, perhaps the lamb was right and it was for the best.

A branch snapped out the tent, making Maar jump up from their bedroll. Their ears twitched as they listened more intently. 

“Wake up.” It was Lambert's voice. They sounded.. empty. 

“Oh leader.. it's so late..” The old yellow duck from earlier. What did the lamb want with her? 

Maar’s heart stopped. How old was that duck? The cat scrambled to their feet, kicking Noryn awake as they did. But they didn't stop to apologize, they had to save that duck. 

The tent flap tore open in time for Maar to see the duck crumble lifelessly to the ground, a gash in her throat. Lambert was standing over her, the red crown transforming from a blood-soaked sword back to its original form. Maar dove at the body, desperately trying to save a life already snuffed out. 

The lamb's fist closed tightly seeing their spouse fretting over what was already done. Getting in their way. Defying them again. They stepped forward but were interrupted by a small voice from the tent behind them. 

Noryn crawled out from the tent, rubbing her eyes before her gaze landed on Maar and the old duck. The lamb's eyes widened as they reached to stop her. 

She screamed.

The sound startled the rest of the camp awake, more and more followers gathering around to witness the gruesome scene. Before anyone could speak, Maar raised their voice.

“You're a monster,” they snarled, still clutching the duck’s body. Followers whispered around them as the lamb glanced around, sputtering for one in their life.

“The Red Crown demanded the spillage of blood,” the lamb said, wiping their hands.

A growl rose in Maar’s throat and they stood, leaving the body on the ground. They walked right up to the lamb, standing toe-to-toe with them. “It wasn’t the crown Lambert,” they snarled. “You just can’t stand the idea of anyone not working under you.”

“She knows peace now,” the lamb insisted.

“And in her final moments she only knew terror as her leader brought a blade down on her for no other reason other than their own selfishness,” Maar pressed. They narrowed their eyes at the lamb. “Would you kill me when I am old and gray as well?”

—

Lambert’s eyes widened as Maar’s accusation, the anger they’d felt leaving as hot shame washed over them. They tried to wrap their arms around the cat but they slipped away. “My dear Maar.. I could never..” A small hand grabbed their arm and the lamb looked down to see Noryn looking up at them with her wide eyes.

“Please, tell me it wasn’t you and I’ll believe you,” she whimpered, her hands shaking. Behind her Tybrena appeared, placing a hand on the mouse’s shoulder and looking pleadingly at the lamb.

“Are you daft?” Maar spat, their tongue sharp as a blade. “That monster was standing over her body, and you’d believe anything they’d say, simply because they said it?” The cat shoved themself between the lamb and their wives, casting their eyes on the lamb.

The lamb sucked in a breath before sighing out with that practiced honey sweet smile. “I do not know why the crown wants what it wants,” they spoke smoothly. “It pained me to draw my blade on a loyal follower, but if it would save my flock from hardship I will do all that is necessary.”

An agreeable murmur rose from the crowd, easing the lamb's nerves. They extended a hand to Maar, who was looking around in disbelief. "Please, lovie," they coaxed softly. "Let’s not be rash. There’s a plan for all of us." Their eyes flicked briefly to the cat’s lashing tail, a reminder of their fourth spouse, thankfully away from this… unfortunate incident.

Maar growled, shoving past them, cursing under their breath as they stormed back to their tent. The lamb watched them go, knowing this wasn’t the end of the fight. Turning to Noryn and Tybrena, they offered gentle comfort, murmuring soft, sweet words before sending them and the rest of the flock back to bed. A solution was needed for Maar’s sudden lack of faith.

—

“Good morning, everyone!” The lamb greeted their flock in the temple. The congregation looked weary, with some members standing further back than usual, whispering amongst themselves. Yet, the lamb smiled down from the podium. “I know last night was stressful for everyone, so I thought it would be good for the flock to let off a little steam today.” The red crown transformed into a box that the lamb held delicately in their hands. “Everyone will take a ball from the box. There are only two white balls, the rest are black. The two with the white balls will be today’s combatants.”

The flock lined up, each member taking a ball from the box. When everyone, except for the lamb, had taken their ball, they were permitted to look. A brown dog howled in excitement, jumping up and down at the chance to play rougher than usual. The lamb’s gaze swept over the crowd, searching for the second white ball holder. Their eyes landed on Maar, who stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring at the ball in their palm.

—

The white ball mocked Maar, glaring up from their palm. Slowly, they raised their head, locking eyes with the lamb. The lamb’s icy stare sent a chill down their spine. Tyjul, the dog, was far bigger and stronger than Maar. The realization hit like a fallen tree: this was no random selection. The lamb had rigged the lottery. This was punishment for defying them.

The crowd shifted, creating space for the fight. Tyjul leered at Maar, barely containing his excitement as the temple bell tolled above their heads, signaling the start. The dog lunged forward, swinging his massive fists. Maar ducked, backing away, swiping at him with their claws, but they might as well have struck stone. Tyjul snarled, snapping his jaws at Maar, who retreated only to be shoved back into the ring by the followers behind them.

Normally, the cult cheered during a fight, but today, a heavy silence hung over the temple. Even they weren’t foolish enough to believe this was mere chance. Tyjul lunged again, this time knocking Maar onto their back. His fists slammed down with bone-crushing force. Maar’s cheek shattered, and the scent of blood flooded their senses. Dazed, they looked toward the podium where the lamb watched, their gaze cold and unreadable.

Tyjul's fists continued to rain down. Maar’s world spun as pain shot through their skull, each blow echoing like a death knell. Their vision blurred, but Lambert’s face remained clear—calm, detached. This was the lamb’s doing. Lambert would keep killing, as if lives meant nothing.

For a moment, the beating paused. Maar lay motionless, Tyjul hesitating as he looked up to his leader. The lamb raised a hand and pointed their thumb toward the earth. Tyjul understood. The final blow came, and everything went black.

The lamb’s indifferent gaze was the last thing Maar saw.

Chapter 2