#its not like you care about your court anyway you might as well

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

good lord, it is 1am and im getting so stupidly angry about the fact that Rhysand is barely getting Feyre to engage with the night court's, or rather verlaris', culture. Like, your girlfriend is a fucking artist and youre not taking her to a MUSEUM??? youre not taking her to an OPERA HOUSE when going to the opera is like the classic monarch-date?? literally how are you you gonna be the ruler of this city thats apparently worldrenowened for its Arts if youre not even gonna show up and show your support for them as high lord. And dont try to tell me its bc hes too busy because that man is going to the club like all the time. and he should not be there!! Stop going to the club, start going to the ballet gala!! Also, Feyre never asked to go anywhere?? Again, shes an artist surely she would like to look at art. if i was in her shoes, after rhysand showed me velaris and how beautiful it is, I would go to the opera house and just stay there until ive seen literally everything. rhysand comes up to me asking me to do something for him and im like "hey man, as you can see im busy rn so respectfully im not doing all that shit"

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 (NSFW) / PART 4 /

PART FIVE (NSFW) - PART 6 - PART 7 (NSFW) - PART 8 (NSFW)

Warning: Mentions of Pregnancy and virginity. piv.

You started Sunday the same way you always did. Wake up before dawn, start breakfast for you and Ma, stare out the window and think about the list of chores you could never keep up with.

“It’s a beautiful morning!” Your mother shuffled past your open door towards the kitchen, “Are you sure I can’t just handle all the work in the field today? Won’t you want to relax before your friend arrives?”

“Mother, please do not blow this out of proportion.” You scolded her light-heartedly, “I’m just going to do my work as usual, and when he stops by I’ll take a break-”

“My baby is getting courted by a big strong orc~” She sang out to you. You followed her to the kitchen. “How did you know he’s courting me?”

“So he is courting you.” She swayed back and forth in front of the hearth, throwing bits of kindling onto the fire.

“Well- I-”

“Y/n, don’t you remember. When I told you about the family that lived in the neighboring plot. The wife told me so much about how strange orc courting was, especially with her being human, and-”

“You didn’t tell me it was a half-orc family…” 

She turned to you with a devious smirk, “Wouldn’t you like to know about a half-orc family.” “MA!” You grabbed an apple from the table (a bright red one that matched the color of your face) and ran out the door. You weren’t really mad at her, but this entire situation was so out of your comfort zone. The only experience you ever really had with being pursued was desperately avoiding Milo for the past two years.

You glanced at the sundial in the garden. Three hours. You had three hours to try and get some work done in the field and shake off the nerves.

-

The tomatoes were a mess. No wonder, this was a corner of the field that had been sorely neglected this season. The sun was climbing higher, and the heat of its rays were beginning to lick the back of your neck. What time was it anyways?

“SO NICE TO MEET YOU- OH YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE!”

Your mothers voice was loud enough to carry all the way to your little corner in the tomato patch. You shot to your feet, craning your neck to see her enthusiastically fawning over a slightly nervous Khargaad. You could hear him nervously chuckling as the two exchanged words.

Well, might as well go save him. You looked down at your work clothes covered in grass stains and mud. Hair was sticking to the back of your sweaty neck. Gross. Probably didn’t smell pretty either.

Your mother caught you out of the corner of her eye and pointed excitedly, “THERE SHE IS!”

You cringed. Gods she was making all this fuss and you looked like you just crawled out of a ditch.

“Hello! I see you met Ma.” You were trying to casually wipe the mix of dirt and sweat from your face, wading over to them through the field. He felt his heart skip a bit when you got closer. You smelled so earthy. And the musk of your sweat was… it could drive him feral.

He started imagining all the ways he could steal you away and worship you. Fill you. Taste you.

“Um… Khargaad?”

He jolted out of his sinful haze, “I couldn’t show up empty handed.” He thrust a basket into your arms. It was laden with fancy imported fruits. “This- This is too much. This must have cost-”

“Hush now,” his voice was like warm honey, “I hunt big game, I can afford it.” He had a cocky little smirk on his face. You thanked him, motioning to follow you into the cottage.

He looked back at your mom one more time, “It was so nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

-

Your first lessons together went just as well as predicted. By the end he was properly frustrated, arms crossed and everything.

“The letters. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s all… mixed up.”

“Let’s just end it here for today.”

He was so cute like this. All flustered. 

He stood up from his seat, being careful to crouch as he easily exceeded the height of the ceiling. “Alrighty, let’s get to work.” He crossed the room in one long stride, pulling his shirt over his head. He looked strong, but not in the way statues are with their lean bodies and taught chiseled muscles. He looked like a man who ate well and worked hard. Your eyes wandered to the slight love handles that peaked over the waistband of his trousers. Gods you were no better than a man, thinking about how bad you wanted to feel him in your hands.

He glanced behind his shoulder, “Where first?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Khargaad.”

“Do you think I’m going to just leave with all this work to be done?”

-

He followed you like an excited puppy to the tomato patch you had been working on. You had tried to tell him that he didn’t need to waste the rest of his day helping with this. But he knew he didn’t need to. He wanted to. And who was going to stop him? Certainly not you.

He started on one end, and you the other, working slowly until you met in the middle. By the end, your hands were red and scratched up from pulling the thistle weeds. Of course, Kharghaad’s were so calloused that it was like he had a pair of gloves on. He gave a little gasp when he saw your sore fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything…” He scooped your small hands into his, as delicate as you would pick up a fresh baby bird.

Every time he touched you it was like this great release. Your mother, as loving as she was, never quite developed a touchy-feely nature. You were so used to it fleeting as soon as it was there. Quick handshakes, brushing against someone in the market. You craved physical touch.

So when Khargaad didn’t let go of your hands. When he held them so carefully and tenderly. So deliberately. You found yourself trying to memorize every little second of the moment.

“I’ll have to buy you gloves.” He muttered, picking out the little needles with surprising dexterity. He took his canteen and went to rinse off the skin. “I can wash my own hands, Khargaad.” You chuckled.

“But I want to,” He blurted out with immediate embarrassment, “Sorry, I guess you could say it’s an orc thing? It’s sorta like… we’re very communal. There’s no reason to do much of anything alone, if you think about it…” He sort of trailed off like he was getting ahead of himself. He paused.

“I hope I'm not smothering you. Maybe humans aren’t like that-” He went to let go of your hands, and a part of you cried out inside. You were tired of trying to play this stoic lone wolf character. It wasn’t who you were. It’s not who any of us are. We all need each other.

“Please, don’t stop…” You whispered to him, thrusting your hands back into his. You uttered the magic words. The words he had been waiting for. He pulled you into his chest. It didn’t matter how gross, hot, and sweaty the two of you were. Or that your mother was most definitely watching joyfully from the kitchen window. Nothing mattered. “Can we go somewhere?” His voice was muffled as he whispered into the top of your head. He was taking long deep sighs, taking in your scent.

“Please…” The need in your voice was palpable. He didn’t waste another moment, leading you to the forest behind your property. “Khargaad… the road is that way.” You motioned behind yourself. “I know a quicker way.” He glanced back at you with that sweet little smirk on his face.

Once past the treeline, the soft light of dusk struggled to breach the overhead foliage. You walked together for some time, before the sound of running water bubbled ahead. He had led you to a little clearing, where in the middle stood a circular style tent. A creek babbled away off to the side. The moon was full and provided plenty of light for you to take it all in. “Do you live here?” 

He nodded, looking down at you expectantly for approval. You grinned, “It’s lovely.”

He snaked a strong arm around your waste, pulling you in. His other hand cupped the back of your head, tilting your face up to his. For a moment he hovered over you, as if waiting for your permission. You reached up to cup his face, thumbing over one of the tusks jutting out of his mouth.

His lips met yours. It started slow, like sipping on a glass of fine wine. Then it was hungry. Like you had both been starved. You were getting drunk off of the needy little grunts he was making, pulling you in flush with his body. You could feel him through his trousers, and it startled you out of your stupor a bit. You hadn’t been with anyone before, and it was bound to happen sooner or later, but this was a bit more than you ever imagined.

It was almost like he sensed your tension, pulling away to look into your eyes, “Let’s get clean.” He had brought his thumb up to caress over your cheek, planting a small peck before jogging to his tent. Watching him disappear under the flap, your mind raced. What if you weren’t ready? What if he’s not patient?

He bounded out towards the stream, beckoning you over. He started to frown as you got closer, like he could smell the apprehension coming off of you, “Do you need to go slower? Do you want to go home? Nothing has to happen. Nothing at all. You are in charge.”

He started unlacing the ties of his trousers. You instinctually looked away, giving him privacy he clearly didn’t need. With the sound of water sloshing you looked back at him submerged up to his sternum. You approached the water’s edge, looking down into the little bubbles churning in the current. “Hey… what’s wrong?” He waded over to the edge, leaning onto the grassy bank. There wasn’t any aire of seduction in his voice, just one of genuine tenderness.

You sucked it up and opened your mouth, “I’ve never done this before…”

“With an orc?”

“No like… I’ve never done this before… ever.” You winced as the words came out. You were a grown adult, this conversation shouldn’t feel embarrassing. But it did nonetheless.

“And so you don’t want to do this?” He didn’t seem fazed at all by the information. “No!” You yelped out a little too enthusiastically, “No- I mean, yes. Yes I do want to. I want you.”

You started to pull at the ties of your shirt, face so flushed it was probably glowing red. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You ripped the shirt off your head like pulling off a bandaid, exposing your chest to the warm summer air. You went to fiddle with the strings of your work pants. He still didn’t look away, and you didn’t ask him to.

And there you were, clothed only in moonlight. Khargaad thought, maybe the moon had come out just for you tonight, to see your beauty for itself.

You stepped down into the water. “Are you sure you’re human? Not a beautiful fairy playing tricks on me?” Khargaad was completely entranced by you, eyes roaming over the curve of your shoulders to the curves of your breasts.

You felt some of the tension ease, snorting at him “I don’t think a fairy would smell this bad.” He gasped a bit as if he had just remembered, grabbing a bar of soap he had retrieved from the tent. “May I?” He asked, lathering up the bar in his hands.

You nodded, letting him wade closer to you. You felt the palms of his massive hands begin to work themselves into your hair, massaging his fingers into your scalp. “Oh-” You exclaimed a rather embarrassing moan, but it felt so good. He finished and went to clean his own hair. “Hey, it’s my turn now!” You scolded him. He was more than happy to let you clean him. As he said previously, it’s a part of orc culture to do things with other people. That includes bathing.

And oh how he loved to see you doing orc things. Like wearing that yellow dress dyed with orc spices, and making those pickled eggs for him. It made him think about how great it would be to bring you home with him, to meet all of his family. For you to find a place in his tribe. He missed home a lot, and now you were a part of that picture. You finished running your fingers through the curls of his clean hair.

He heard the sloshing of water, turning around to see you drying yourself off. He joined you. You cast a quick glimpse below his waist, blushing furiously at his partially hard cock.

You walked together to the flap of the tent. The inside surprised you. It was so… cozy. “Ah-” He had leaned down to nuzzle into your neck, you loved the feeling of his tusks against your skin. He pulled you to what could best be described as a nest. A nest of pillows and blankets. He very carefully leaned you onto your back, “Is this okay?”

You giggled at him, “Yes Khargaad. I will tell you if I need to stop, okay?”

“Promise?” He leaned back on his knees, his olive green skin looking lovely in the warm glow of the lantern lighting the tent. His member was on full display, completely unashamed. The way it twitched in anticipation made your stomach flutter. “Yes.”

He lied down next to you, peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck. His hands began to roam your body, starting with your shoulders and slowly moving down to your tits. His calloused palm grazed over the sensitive peaks, causing you to let out a breathy sigh. He took your left breast into his hand, thumbing over your hardened nipple. He palmed your chest for a few moments more, like he was savoring each and every new part of you he explored. You felt his cock hard against your leg. You shifted your thigh, giving him just the lightest sensation of friction. The groan he mumbled into your skin made you feel hot between your legs. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get some relief.

His hand traveled down to your stomach, caressing the curves and grabbing a soft handful of skin. “Good…” He whispered. You shivered as his hand glided over your hips, so close to your entrance. He reached for the inside of your thigh, pulling it over into his cock. He let out another breathy sigh that left you completely slick with desire. His hand hovered over the mess of hair covering your mound. You opened your legs, giving him permission.

He started by slowly palming you, just beginning to give you the attention your pussy was desperate for. You felt a finger slip past your folds, getting drenched in the slickness. Khargaad shifted you up a bit so he could have better access to your chest. He dipped down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucked playfully. “Oh f-fuck-” You were stuttering at the pleasure of it all. He grinned into your chest, “Keep making those noises sweetheart.” The pet name made your heart flutter.

He kept gently probing a finger up and down your slit, until he dipped one down just at the beginning of your entrance. His fingers were bigger than your own, but this wasn't so much of a stretch. He slowly sheathed the finger in you, “Tight.” He grunted. He made a come hither motion into that sensitive spot of your inner walls. You yelped out a completely sinful moan as he prodded you a few more times. His finger exited your hole, pulling the wetness of your cunt onto your swollen and sensitive clit.

“Khargaad-” Your hips bucked up into him as he swirled long languid circles around that little bundle of nerves. He pulled off, and sat back on his knees, “Can I taste you?”

It was the way he asked more than anything. Like he was close to begging for it. You nodded, spreading your legs for him. He settled down in front of you, using both of his thumbs to spread your lips apart. You felt the tip of his fat tongue probe your needy pussy. He reached up to play with your nipples, while he moved up to your throbbing clit. He started with light kitten-licks, making you whine and buck up into his mouth. That wonderful tongue of his made swirls and then quick flickering motions over the sensitive spot. At this point you were almost completely lost in pleasure, and reached down to thread your fingers through his soft brown curls. 

You were already sensitive when he started, so you were very close to finishing. You actually yelled when he inserted a finger into you. Prodding that sensitive spot while attacking your sensitive clit; it was making the most obscene wet noises. “Close.” That was all you could manage as he devoured you. There it was, feeling crushed over you like a ton of bricks. You coated this hand, legs spasming. He dipped down to lap up the remnants of your release. Your taste, your smell, the feeling of his hair clenched in your fist. He was addicted.

He leaned back, taking in his work. You had a hand on your forehead and a hand on your chest, calming down from what you just experienced. You glanced down at him, both hands on his thighs. His cock was completely erect, tip glistening with pre-cum. It was so heavy it bowed down under its own weight. “Y/n…” He was trying to figure out what to say next. His cock needed to be buried in your pretty little cunt. He needed to bottom out into you. He wanted to hear the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. But he couldn’t say that, though. He didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready.

So when you propped yourself up on your elbows, legs spread for him, he almost felt like crying. His human mate was so strong. So ready for him.

He crawled over you, pinning your legs over his shoulders. He took the base of his cock into his fist, guiding it slowly over your folds. You were so warm for him. He pushed his pulsating tip past your lips, wincing from the sensitivity. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, but you were completely entranced watching his cock slide into you. His tip found your hole, sliding in but not going any further. He was absolutely strangeling the pillow he was resting his hand on, trying to maintain control. Khargaad was watching you, every little subtle expression. He kept sinking himself into you, stopping when you made the first wince of pain. He was big, and you were so tight. 

“Y/n?” You looked up at him through those pretty lashes. He nearly lost it all right there, just from the eye-contact. You got off of your elbows, leaning down completely. You gave a little nod, still making direct eye contact. Slowly and gently, he worked his way in until his hips were flush with yours. He leaned back, still buried in you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

He wouldn’t last long at all, seeing you like this. Your little face with knotted brows, arms thrown overhead. Khargaad brought his hand to your stomach, rubbing little circles into the soft skin with his thumb. You were perfect. Perfect to take his seed. Perfect for growing a little half-orc.

He wouldn’t yet, of course. Not until you were ready. For you, he would wait as long as needed. But his strange orc hormones and instincts craved it beyond explanation.

He began rocking out and back into you, keeping a slow languid pace. You reached out for him, and in an instant his head was nuzzled in your neck again. His pace started to ramp up a bit, earning little mewls from your lips. Oh he definitely wouldn't last much longer. “W-where…” His breath hitched in your ear. “Huh?” You were too flustered to try to understand what he was asking.

“Going to-” He was hissing and groaning, barely able to work out a sentence, “On your body- ah- or o-on the bed?” His motions were getting jerky. “Fuck- sorry- oh fuck.”

He pulled out just barely in time to empty himself onto your stomach. He fucked his rough fist through the climax, sighing at the sight of his seed coating your tummy. It felt a lot warmer than you expected, and much more… volume. He finally let go of his cock, reaching for a linen cloth and dunking it in a bowl of water he had set nearby. “I made a mess…”

He sounded so guilty, and you giggled at him teasingly. One of his hands cupped your face, while the other softly wiped the length of your cunt, messy from your own slickness. He wiped the cum that was coated across your stomach, being careful not to spill any on the bed.

“You did so good.” He started cooing sweet nothings to you while running his thumbs across your cheekbone, “Wore me out…” He chuckled, throwing the rag across the room. He yawned and stretched his arms above him.

“Do you want me to go home now?” You were all too familiar with the stories women told about men finishing and ordering them to leave. You didn’t quite have the confidence yet, to advocate for yourself. To tell him you wanted to spend the night wrapped up in his arms.

For Khargaad, this question felt like an arrow to the heart. Had he not done enough? To make it clear how badly he needed you with him? He laid down next to you, pulling you close, “I would kill the person who would try to take you from me right now.”

Here is Part 5 for you lovelies <3 <3 <3 btw Khargaad is living in a yurt, that's what I was trying to describe lol.

I attached a playlist I put together. These are the songs I've been listening to while writing this, if anyone wants to hear the vibes :3

Tagged List <3

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123 @queenies1x1 @jellyslimesofficial @jasminedragoon @rangoismyname @the-queen-of-sorrows @the-dumber-scaramouche @heddaloddafun @swimmingrascalbatdragon @hellodollstuff @wingedghostpepper @pistachioinfernal @honeybaegle @sammehshark @dij-ology @forgemotherkestrel @wafflefries786

[misstycloud]

Bear hybrid

Synopsis: you were on your way to work, when suddenly a bear-hybrid sees you. The look in his eyes says everything you need to know. Not wanting to spend the rest of your life as someone’s possession, you bolt. Too bad he won’t let you get away a second time.

——

Ugh, another long day ahead of me.

You thought tiredly. The long shifts at the diner you worked at really took its toll on you. If you could, you’d quit. But free time wasn’t worth getting starved.

You sighed and stared down at the gum stuck onto a trash can. There was a hint of pale pink on it, signaling the colour it originally was.

Gum sticking to practically every surface in the subway station wasn’t the only defects. There were plastic cups, cigarettes, paper towels and a lot more unidentified items scattered freely.

Frankly, it was disgusting. If the government spent less on hybrid establishment improvement and more on the condition of public spaces, the maybe it wouldn’t look like shit everywhere.

You felt like a shitty person for thinking such things, hybrids have endured thousands of things in the past and now with modern development, they can finally lead satisfactory lives.

However, the government have begun to focus all their attention to the welfare of hybrids and neglecting humans in the process. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that. Still, one couldn’t help what they felt.

It’s not like you disliked hybrids, yet you did not love them either. You were neutral in that department. There were still humans with the old views, but they weren’t as many anymore or they simply didn’t run around telling people since it wouldn’t be very well received. The biggest problem and maybe the only problem you had with hybrids were their mating culture.

Clearly, no one in the relationship had a choice(not that they complained) and suddenly you’re supposed to be together until you die.

And now that they’re allowed to mate with humans legally, there is little that can stop them from forcing their human partner from submitting to their will; living and accept them as a lifelong partner. Despite protests against this done by humans the government refuses to acknowledge the issue and address it since that would be considered antagonizing parts of the hybrids’ culture.

It was wrong to force someone into a relationship they clearly express they didn’t want, unfortunately the animal-hybrids do not care for unwanted courting and do what they want anyway.

You shuddered at the thought of being mated to one of those creatures. It must be hell. Especially if you already have a partner previous to meeting them. Hybrids did not take kindly to those who might come between them and their mate. It wasn’t unusual to see news cover horrific deaths with the culprit being a hybrid ‘protecting’ their mate.

The train arrived and you made an annoyed face at how crowded it was. What felt like hundreds of people were squeezed into one cart, rubbing against each other and breathing as one being, making it incredibly warm inside.

You grabbed a pole with your right hand, trying to steady yourself and also liking to have something solid ground you. You’ve seen way to many consequences of people not holding on to anything while standing.

It was uncomfortable. Arms and elbows poked you from all sides, and two teenagers were talking way beyond the proper volume in such a cramped space. You couldn’t wait to get off.

Suddenly, commotion stole your attention elsewhere. Sounds of irritated folk earned everyone’s stares. You heard men and women alike, complaining about movement and pushing.

“Hey, stop pushing me!”

“Don’t look at me, it’s someone else!”

“Alright, who is then?”

Angry remarks were thrown. Not that you could blame them. The uncomfortable ride paired with lack of oxygen were not suited for enjoyable time.

An apologetic voice exclaimed, “Sorry! I need to get through, it’s important. Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your toes!”

Eyes widening and mouth nearly falling wide open, you turn to see the biggest man you’ve ever seen! His form was easily towering above all others, making you think that he was part of the reason why the train cart was so crowded.

The ginormous man had dark brown hair reaching his broad shoulders, the locks were messy and thick, slightly falling in front of his eyes.

What stood out the most however wasn’t his unnatural size. It was the pair of two brown, rounded ears atop his head.

It instantly hit you. The inhuman height was because he wasn’t human at all. He was a hybrid. A bear one at that! One of the most dangerous hybrids there is. While they might not attack unless provoked or caught off guard, meeting one is definitely something most would avoid.

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest when the bear-man’s eyes connected with yours. They were an odd amber colour, you noticed.

Fuck! You shouldn’t have looked his way.

And like the dumbass wannabe-dead, something in your brain forces your gaze back up and you freeze. The look on his face when he sees you. The look. It was the look.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This could not be happening. It was obvious what was happening. You’d heard about it. On TV. From friends. Seen it in real life. There was no way you could be someone’s mate. Not when you’d spent so many nights praying it wasn’t your fate, since you didn’t want to end up like those humans you’ve heard about.

Well now you knew why he was causing a disturbance on the train. It was to get to you. A hybrid can easily smell its mate hundreds of meters away. He must have smelt you the second you got on that train and gone searching for you.

A squeak escaped your lips as you saw him waving at you while attempting to close the distance. Of course it did not go fast because of all the people between you.

No. You refused to be chained down to some animal. You had to get out. And as if someone above heard you, you heard the train voice speak, “Station X.”

That was your station.

The hybrid seemed to have noticed someone was off, he observed your face before glancing at the approaching platform. Then it clicked in his head.

“No, wait!”

Too late. You were already bolting out the doors, listening to angry comments after you. You only had time to rush a hasted ‘sorry’ before making it on the platform. The man did not have the same luck.

“Don’t go! Please! Don’t leave! No. ”

He desperately tried to shove passed all the passengers to get to the doors, but there was no time left and the doors closed shut before he managed to reach within one meter of them. The wheels of the train were rolling the connected vehicles away.

You had no interest to stay and watch, though. You still had a job to go to and you couldn’t afford to be late, or else your boss would scold you fiercely again.

Half running and half jogging, you hurried to the diner while in deep thought. Had you lost him? Maybe, but probably not forever. As hybrid will stop at nothing to find their mate once they’ve entered their sights.

‘Fuck. My. Life. ‘

The next station the train would stop at was a bit away, so perhaps you were lucky this time? If you were careful from now on and don’t go out as much, then you could possibly avoid being found. Also, your work place was somewhat far from the subway.

If you saved up a bit, then you could also by a scent-masking spray to hide yourself further. Although it was risky to do that. Because hybrids need a fair chance of finding their mate, masking spray became forbidden after people started using it to avoid hybrids. So now the only place you can buy it is from shady markets or people who may or may not want to steal your kidneys. Besides all that, it was very costly too.

You dragged a hand through your hair and heaved a deep sigh. What were you going to do?

“Y/N stop daydreamin’ an get back ta work!” Your boss yelled and slapped you harshly on the back. He always did that. You were sure he got a kick out of messing with you.

Massaging your shoulder you answered, “Sorry boss…”

The diner wasn’t too busy so you had no idea of why he tried to rush you. Sure, there were some customers here and there filling the tables, but you weren’t so understaffed that you’d have to aprint around like a maniac trying to get everyone’s orders.

Approaching a table with customers, you put on you employe smile, “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

The man looked at the menu an extra time to finalise his decision, “I’ll have the chicken pasta with sundries tomatoes and red wine, can we also order some garlic bread?”

“Yes,” you wrote down the dishes on your small notepad and turned your attention to the woman sitting across him, “and you, ma’am?”

No answer.

“Ma’am?”

But she wasn’t paying any attention to you. It was as if you didn’t even exist, looking passed you like air with wide eyes. Finding this weird you turned back to her husband. Feeling your gaze he chuckled awkwardly.

“Honey? Aren’t you going to order?” She still didn’t respond which forced her husband to see whatever she was focusing so intently on.

It was then you realised they weren’t the only ones acting unusual. In fact, everyone inside the establishment had their eyes turned in the same direction. You swung around to witness the horror.

There, in the resturant entrance stood he. His form created the illusion of the door being as insignificant as an ant. With heavy breath and droplets of sweat collecting on his forehead, he frantically whirled around until he noticed you.

Dropping your notepad and hand clasping over your mouth, you thought ‘fuck, so I didn’t get rid of him?’

Okay, even though it was kinda delusional to believe you could shake him off easily without consequences, you were still surprised he found you so quickly. The hybrid wiped his eyes and it was then you noted the redness surrounding them, an obvious sign of crying.

He stumbled forward, “There you are, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you!”

Suddenly you were the centre of attention.

“W-what….?” Backing, you feigned ignorance.

“You saw me on the train earlier, I tried to stop you getting off but you took off without warning…” he hung his head in despair.

Yeah, guess why?

“You should leave..”

“Huh? No, I can’t g-“ the hybrid rushed.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” The voice of your boss interrupted. With a deep scowl he paraded into the scene but crossed his arms in a defensive stance as soon as he laid eyes in the bear-man. His eyes ran up and down the bear’s large form. “W-whatddya you want?” Your boss’ gruff voice sounded unusually weak. “If there’s any trouble I’ll ‘ave ta call the cops, ya got me?” He said despite appearing like a newborn deer.

A bewildered expression crossed the tall man’s face, “No I’m not here to cause anything! I’m here for someone!” He explained while waving his arms, trying to signal peace. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect, the humans in the diner cowered lightly at the gesture and he instantly stopped. “Sorry…” he whispered and suddenly he looked ashamed.

Your boss cleared his throat, “Alright. Who ya ‘ere for?” He’d make that person goes with the scary man to make him leave as soon as possible. Not that he’d admit it, but he never liked those hybrid people. They just seemed unreliable it all. Nothing to be trusted. With their animal intincts present and sharp teeth, he couldn’t allow them to be in his resturant. He hadn’t the courage to blatantly kick them out or shout in their faces but he could at least give them what they wanted to make them lose interest as fast as possible.

The bear’s gaze searched yours and your boss put two and two together. “Oi, Y/N, come ‘ere. Someone’s looking for ya!” The man pulled your collar to drag you forward, earning a small frown from the hybrid but it vanished just as quickly.

You refused to look at him, keeping your attention to the floor and praying for him to go away. A rough hand carressed your cheek and you flinched and after hestitation it pulled away.

“Won’t my mate look at me..?” A saddened voice said.

A twinge of guilt started brewing in your mind but you pushed it down. “I see this is new to you-being human and all, haha.” He tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Umm…you know what this is though? Me seeing you and then following you here must be creepy, haha- but it’s not I promise! I just want to love you. Because we’re,” he giggled, “mates!” He happily sighed. “And you know what that is, right? If you don’t it’s fine, I’ll tell you. Being mates is loving someone no matter what, be it looks or personality nothing is important. Mates take care of each other, providing for your mate and making them happy is the best feeling in the world! There doesn’t exist anything that can compare!- not that I know that personally or anything since I haven’t had a mate before but I’ve heard from all my friends who have mates. Oh, I’m so jealous of them whenever I see them together with their mates doing fun things. Though it doesn’t really matter what you’re doing as long as it’s with your ma-“

“Please stop!” You yell, several customers flinched at your tone, not that you cared anymore. Having to listen to his constant talk about being mates had brought you over your boiling point. The man silenced at your exclamation. “Sorry, but I don’t give a shit about all this mate stuff or whatever- it doesn’t mean anything to me so please leave! I’m sorry that this isn’t what you want to hear but I have no interest in being your mate, not now, not ever.” You pointed at the door. “So go.”

The hybrid was stunned and stood quiet, appearing hurt. Then your boss promptly spoke, “Y/N, you shouldn’t speak to someone like that! Especially someone who loves you so much!”

“Huh?” What the hell was he going on about? He never cared for hybrids, certainly not their feelings. You’ve heard all those thing he said about them when he thought no one was listening.

“Clark.” The hybrid said and lowered his head.

“What?”

“My name. I apologise, I shouldn’t have barged in here expecting you to be chill about everything. I’m such a fool. I’m just a stranger to you. The least I could do is tell you my name.” The apology sounded so sincere.

“No, it’s uh- fine..” you scratched your arm anxiously. Luckily he seems pretty nice and not someone who would just take their mate and go; it’s happened before. Perhaps you’ve got a chance?

“Oh come on Y/N! Give the poor fella a chance!” Your boss bellowed and forced you forward. You crashed into the giant’s chest from the shove. “He clearly loves you!

What the hell was he going on about?

Strange that the man was encouraging your reunion, you thought.

“Actually, since I’m so nice, why don’ I do ya a favour and let ya go? Someone like you shouldn’t have to work in a place like this. This’a happy day!” Then he pointed at the beak room, “Get ya stuff and celebrate.”

“Excuse me-wha- let me go? As in I’m fired?” Your brain tried to comprehend what just happened and words fell out in unfinished sentences. Despite yourself, you fixed your eyes on Clark.

“Don’ worry he’ll be ‘ere when ya get back!” The rough man shooed you towards the break room.

Having no choice but to comply, you do as he wishes and abandon the scene, which might’ve been the best thing really, the continued staring of the present customers was starting to make you very uncomfortable.

Glaring at your locker like it was the cause of your ill mood, you harshly ripped your jacket off the hook and stuffed some scattered items back in your bag. You could not believe it. Fired? You? You have been nothing but a good employee at the diner, even taking all the shit from the boss and not complaining once.

Through the small window in the door, you spot the cause of your troubles thoughts walking by. Angrily you grab his arm and pull him inside the room, a surprised noise leaving him.

“What the hell, why am I being laid off? I haven’t done anything.”

He expressed a long breath. “Sorry, but I can’t ‘ave some brute hangin ‘round here ‘cause of you, customer don’t like it and I won’t sacrifice my business for someone like you. Surely you understand.”

“He won’t hang around the diner, we’re not together! Besides, it not my fault!” You pleaded with him. You needed this job. Without it you’d definitely die in the end.

“Well, we both know he won’t leave so don’ make this any harder than it already is.” He said before leaving to do whatever shit he did instead of being a good manager.

Bullshit. It wasn’t hard at all. In fact, you bet he loved to have an excuse to get rid of you. He never liked you from the very beginning; the feeling was very mutual by the way.

With despair, you left through the back door and as you listened to it close, you did not react to the loud bam of the heavy metal slam. Recalling at how you flinched the first time you went out the back, you clench your fist. How’re you gonna make it now? You doubted you had much savings in the bank.

Making your way to the station, it blew passed you that there was still a bear waiting for you so he could properly introduce himself. He was in his own mind so much that he didn’t realise you’d already left until it was too late.

Good that he was born with a great sense of smell. How stupid of him not to consider your perspective in the beginning! Not to worry, he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off the next time. His species didn’t have the best reputation so he understood why you acted the way you did; it still hurt though.

The next time he’d just need to show you he wasn’t dangerous at all.

——

Sorry the ending sucked and was rushed. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end it so it turned into this.

[innerangeltoadlover]

IDEOLOGY : LIFE IN SCHIZOPHRENIA

1. I was inspired to write this because I believe a diagnosis of schizophrenia silences those who suffer from the illness. I wrongly believed after my sister took me to Court in an effort to make me homeless that I would never have to fight for my truth to be heard again. Poor outcomes for patients are linked to expedient treatments - ones which may ignore salient indicators of abuse in order to place mental illness as the cause of behaviour and the only valid truth. There is probably nothing more demeaning and disheartening than telling your therapist about abuse and having it received as a fairytale. My story will show the consequences of skepticism and disbelief in the treatment of schizophrenia which allows for the generalisation of experiences without differentiation. We are better than this.

Sometimes , well often, when we read a memoir there’s an assumption that the person writing has overcome some insurmountable hardship. It motivates us to think that we can do the same – and at some point we , like the author, will walk into the sunset with clarity, humour and perhaps in hand with another. These are the kinds of books I usually stop reading after the first chapter because life , and in particular my life, has not been like this. I want to write about the ugly side of mental illness and the reason why there are so many of us who exist without that longed for happy ending. For those of us who don’t crawl out of the mire our lives are not improved by the application of lipstick or the urging of those who have. Despite our travels through a social media polluted with inspiring memes and motivational scenarios real hardship is present and remains unchanged despite its synonymous pairing with choice.

So my story isn’t going to be particularly uplifting -there has been no victory here – I write because I have to – not because I want to. I’m hoping in writing that I might gain some internal peace over the war my mind wages with me, particularly at night when the lack of distraction makes sleep elusive. I think publishing is a bit of a minefield for people like me. I’m wary of writing anything that resembles some clueless manifesto but at the same time I think it’s important for people with this illness to write something real that isn’t Instagramable and also at nearly 60 I’ve come to view my illness as a valid part of my individuality and I wish to defend it rather than have this unique part of me trampled into submission by doctors who view me like a bacteria in a Petri dish. The truth is this illness is crap but the treatment is crappier and you are trapped in it , well I have been anyway. However the older I get the more I’ve realised that much of the prejudice and stigma linked to this illness has much of its origins in treatment. I used to have a social conscience and was concerned about the plight of my fellow sufferers but it has been chipped away. When my Shrink tells me of advances in care it sort of hangs in the air like a fog in a windowless room. These days I say very little when these professionals say this nonsense which I’ve heard so many times– I’m nearly old but I was young once and I wasn’t born in the Dark Ages- I was hopeful , though that hope has disintegrated. The old mantra “you can’t reason with a schizophrenic” is alive and well in most psychiatrists offices however it is often only the benefit of hindsight that allows us to see the stark relief against the empty rhetoric. It also painfully exhibits that in my case my treatment was inhibited by doctors who could not tell fact from fiction and who had ultimately decided that some lives are worth more than others.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Mayhaps I want to ask about "genderfuck"

From this ask meme

Oh this is a fun one actually, like, in my heart. It's also an Ichigo one, full disclaimer, so

SUMMARY // Hatake Ichigo and the trials and tribulations of being a shinobi girl hitting puberty, who just so happened to have been born a boy. --- "Maybe I should just castrate myself." Ichigo sniffled. "Ichigo," Her mother sighed, still patient. "You are not allowed to try and castrate yourself till at least 20." "But it'll be too late by then!" She wailed.

I think I might have already posted this one snippet of it bc I remember thinking it was funny, but oh well Ill just post it anyways if that is the case.

But like, eunuch Hikaku mention:

"I bet Hikaku-sama would know how to castrate someone." Ichigo mumbled, kicking at the floor dejectedly, and her mother paused. "Why in the world would Uchiha Hikaku know how to safely castrate someone?" Ichigo stared at her mother blankly, who stared back with an equally confused expression. "Um, cuz he's a eunuch, right?" "Excuse me?" Ichigo frowned. "He had to chop of his own thing, for some mission in the Daimyo's court or something, right? Before he became clan heir?" "Where did you hear that?" "The twins told me!" Ichigo scowled, oddly miffed by her mother's doubt. "And you believed them?" Ichigo planted her fists on her hips. "Well when I asked Kagami, he believed it too! And every time after that when I mentioned it to people, no one argued!" "Hatake Ichigo," her mother began, setting down her knife with a soft clack onto the cutting board. Ichigo froze at her mothers dangerously level tone. "Have you been going around telling people that the Uchiha clan heir is a eunuch." "Um." Was all she could manage, finally realizing she may have messed up. Just a bit.

Anyways I thought it'd be fun to tackle being trans specifically set in early konoha, and all take a fun little peek at all the world building aspects I could possibly dig into with it!

I have an older post still buried in my drafts about my takes on how it's interesting to think ab how Konoha developing as a village might have impacted the trans experience of its shinobi and civillians— specifically from the standpoint of paperwork.

Thinking something along the lines of, earlier konoha had more unregistered home births and messy paperwork that also made it very easy to go in and change details of by simply going to an office and saying "Hey btw my mom filled out this form wrong when I was born. I'm a girl just so u know." And you'll just kinda get a shrug and a "oh ok cool, I'll change that then"

Vs more modern Konoha where you might get some more complicated loops to jump through and extra paperwork stating specifically that you are trans and would like to Officially Request (tm) a change in the presenting gender listed on your file and also would you like to sign up for our hormone therapy or any gender affirming surgery?

Just like. Thinking ab the little things and progression and changes through time (none specifically good or bad) at how things are done depending on the state of the village. Fun to think about

Sorry anyways:

For this oneshot, if I ever continue it, I also would have fun in playing with how different clans and groups see gender.

Like, Ichigo goes to the Orochi who are rather infamously gender apathetic and kinda just do their own thing as part of their clan culture.

The Shiranui make a cameo with their concepts of how gender can be used as a weapon and presenting yourself certain ways is just another tool in the box to play with for a shinobi

The Inuzuka come in w their matriarchal clan to talk ab the concept of womanhood or smthn quirky like that, I'm not too sure yet but I think it'd be neat if they were there

Just. Having fun exploring the ways different clans and their cultures view and interact with gender. Some clans are welcome to the concept of trans people, some clans legit just don't care, some clans have trans ideas built into their identity, others might think it a bit strange but ultimately not their buisness, etc.

Then also the differences between how shinobi clans treat gender and transness vs how civilians treat it (w the shinobi caring a whole lot less ab it all. Probably bc they have other things to worry about)

Early Konoha is already so ripe w potential as a melting pot of cultures meeting for the first time ever ,,, I wanna play with it.

I will say tho going into it and still now, I kinda just plan on steering clear of transphobia— if it were to appear it'd be in flashes and get a "damn, that's crazy. Anyways." Reaction from Ichigo as she goes back to asking Tobirama if he has a cure for her growing a beard

I like playing things as straight as possible and really leaning hard into "ok but what are ALL the reactions I can get out of this and how do I play with them" but I kinda just. Don't wanna write that. This'd be a fun, silly comedy about a ninja girl learning ab shinobi clan history and gender culture and I will indulge myself on that

ANYWAYS ! thank u for playing the ask game w me Domoz, sorry I dive bombed u w Ichigo for ur reply rip

[tavolgisvist]

One of the reasons Dylan had even come to England was his fascination with the Brit rock scene. The Animals, Manfred Mann, the Bluesbreakers, the Pretty Things, the Beatles, the Stones. All that boys-club stuff that makes life fun. After the concert* we all went back to the hotel. We were milling around in Albert Grossman’s suite, with Grossman holding court. There was no doubt now who was the crown prince of rock; it was Bob. The Animals and the Stones had all come to visit, serious bad boys come to pay their respects and sit meekly on the couch as the mad dauphin came in and out talking of Apocalypse and Pensacola. And now, to bestow the confirming touch, the Beatles had come to pay him hommage. Although I knew both John and Paul quite well by this time, meeting “The Beatles” as a group was always a bit of an ordeal. On top of their Olympian fame was their scouse badgering. They would always run things on you. On each other, too, but mostly on other people. Anybody new into the crowd had to be ready to go through a terrible gauntlet of verbal abuse and voodoo vibes. You were never sure whether you were being tested or totally ridiculed or perhaps not being spoken to at all. Dylan went into the room where the Beatles were sitting all scrunched up on the couch, all of them fantastically nervous (for once). Lennon, Ringo, George and Paul and one or two roadies. Nobody said anything. They were waiting for the oracle to speak. But Dylan just sat down and looked at them as if they were all just total strangers at a railway station. It wasn’t so much a matter of being cool; they were too young to be genuinely cool. Like teenagers, they were all afraid of what the others might think and simply froze in each other’s company. Neuwirth walked through the room balancing a balloon on his little finger. All heads turned as he passed, as if we were at Wimbledon. It was such a funny image, all these millionaires sitting around in a circle watching Neuwirth doing some silly thing with a balloon. Just watching anything like children at a circus. I thought, “Jesus, how could I ever have thought these scared little boys were gods?”

Then Allen Ginsberg came in. The silence deepened. Simply by walking into the room Allen was laying himself open to ridicule, but he didn’t care. Instead of trying to protect his dignity, he deliberately made himself into a target. He went over to the chair Dylan was sitting in and plonked himself down on the armrest. No one at first reacted to this, but by now the room was bristling with hostility toward Allen. The tension built and built and then John Lennon broke the silence by snarling: “Why don’t you sit a bit closer, then, dearie.” The insinuation—that Allen had a crush on Dylan—was intended to demolish Allen, but since it wasn’t far from the truth anyway, Allen took it very lightly. The joke was on them, really. He burst out laughing, fell off the arm and onto the lap of Lennon, who was on the couch with his wife, Cynthia. Allen looked up at him and said, “Have you ever read William Blake, young man?” And Lennon in his Liver-puddlian deadpan said, “Never heard of the man.” Cynthia, who wasn’t going to let him get away with this even in jest, chided him: “Oh, John, stop lying.” That broke the ice. “Lovely gig, man,” Lennon offered as if he were just passing through. Dylan just rocked back and forth hypnotically in his chair. Then he said: “They didn’t dig ‘It’s All Right, Ma.’ ” “Maybe they didn’t get it,” said John. “It’s the price of being a head of your time, y’know.” To which Dylan said, “Maybe, but I’m only about twenty minutes ahead, so I won’t get far.” Dylan didn’t pay much attention to the Beatles at all actually, except for John. John he adored, so hanging out with John was always good. But Paul got a very cool reception. I saw Paul come in with an acetate of a track he’d been working on. It was very far out for its time with all kinds of distorted, electronic things on it and Paul was obviously proud of it. He put it on the turntable in his eager, earnest way and stood back in anticipation but Dylan just walked out of the room. It was unbelievable. The expression on Paul’s face was priceless. And it was the same way with the Stones. They’d all sit on the couch with their topsy hair, like little teddy bears devouring the room, and he’d hardly look at them. Dylan was so funny about all of them. He simply carried on as if none of them was present.

(Faithfull by Marianne Faithfull and David Dalton, 1994)

*at London’s Royal Albert Hall, 9 May 1965

Part (I), (II), (IV), (V)

and what was before the meeting (Record Mirror's article)

[periwinkla]

Heya, pokeattorney anon here!

Glad to hear you're feeling better, let's hope that the road to full recovery continues smoothly. I'm so happy to see you posting art again!

I love the idea of Trucy with a little group of buneary assistants, that sounds completely adorable.

I also think pawmot is a great choice for Athena, I imagined her liking electric types, and it has a bunch of fur on its head that kind of looks like Athena's ponytail. I like it when a trainer and their pokemon have a similar color scheme.

I just realized that I forgot about Ema, but honestly your picks are perfect I have nothing to add.

I generally don't give legendaries either, but I thought that reshiram and zekrom were just too fitting. It would be pretty incredible and hype if reshiram showed up during the climax of a case, like aai2-4, when Edgeworth proves his dedication to finding the truth.

Now onto the important stuff, your BW AU is soooo big brained, I'm a massive fan of the idea! If you ever come up with more thoughts about it please please share! I would actually lose my mind if you drew something about it I think. There's just so much potential, imagine the ferris wheel scene! And instead of having Phoenix and Edgeworth be opponents in court, they could have pokemon battles, and Phoenix would show him that pokemon can form genuine bonds of friendship with people! Unnecessary feelings, but it's Edgeworth realizing that pokemon are so much more than battling machines, which is what von Karma probably taught him, and realizing that he didn't treat them the way they deserve! Unfortunately, I played BW too long ago, so the plot isn't fresh in my mind, I might be remembering some parts wrong. I think N used pokemon that were found nearby, I'm not sure if Edgeworth would do that? I think it's more likely that von Karma drills into him that strength is everything (like evidence is everything), so he'd use pokemon similar to him, then switch back to using his childhood team during the equivalent of aa2. Having him come back to kick Neo Plasma's ass would be so amazing, though I think that the time between BW and B2W2 could also be the 7yg, if that AU is for the entire series. There's so many ways this could go, and I'm very curious about what else you have in mind!

Again, very happy that you're making a comeback, take care of yourself!

Hi again anon!! Thank you so much!! <3 I'm happy to hear from you again :)

I also enjoy the idea of partner pokémon having matching color schemes with their trainers. It's just so very cute and sweet!

It's true, Reshiram/Zekrom fit them very well, and especially Reshiram during 2-4 as you said. I mean I guess if the courtrooms were bigger, they could fit them in. Although the judge would probably hide under his desk. Shaking in his robes. Poor guy.

Oh gosh the ferris wheel scene...!!!!!! Phoenix shaking because he's afraid of heights but going in anyway because it's a chance to be alone with Miles. Miles notices him trembling and he's like 'why on earth didn't you say anything?!'. Once they get off Phoenix feels like hell and probably empties all contents of his stomach and Miles needs to help him through it and they end up spending a lot of time together. Still, Phoenix thinks: 'worth it'. (also side note I know in the ENG ver Miles is said to be afraid of heights as well but it's not like that in JP)

Also yes, them battling it out. While bantering like they do in court. That's like. Narumitsu at its finest. Phoenix wants to make him realize that people can't live without pokémon, that it's a symbiotic relationship. The bond he shares with his mons is what made it possible for him to stand in front of Edgeworth in the present... And he wants to make him remember when they were children, and played with pokémon together.

As for what I believe Miles to think, there's a very long explaination below.

(you opened a Pandora's box here I hope you're aware)

BW are actually my favourite pokémon games, so I remember them fairly well. In BW's plot, Team Plasma's goal is to 'liberate pokémon from trainers', but that's actually just a front, as Ghetsis' true objective is to gain power by taking it from everyone else (ie. if no one has pokémon but he does, he's the most powerful). There are some Plasma members who are genuine, but there are some that much like Ghetsis use and abuse pokémon (there's an incident with them beating a Munna for example). I think von Karma would have more or less the same goals as Ghetsis: he puts up a front, telling Edgeworth that all pokémon must be liberated from trainers' control. Basically 'every defendant is guilty' = 'every pokémon trainer abuses pokémon'. But in truth Von Karma's true goal is to have all power for himself. To the public, VK wants to appear as someone who fights for justice for pokémon, much like in AA where he is a prosecutor that upholds justice (in theory).

As for the issue of N using the pokémon nearby - yes, that's true. Basically he asked the pokémon nearby to help him with his battles against the protagonist. But uh, well, I don't know how to go about that either. Personality wise, N is very different from Miles in the first place. Miles is not exactly the type that easily asks for help. But in any case I think he most probably uses some pokémon from his childhood (like Ralts/Gardevoir) and some that VK gave him (like Bisharp - who Ghetsis also owns and fits VK as well as Miles).

We also need to establish how and why Miles admires his father. I would see Gregory as a Gym leader. One that preaches the importance of the emotional connection between trainer and pokémon. A defining trait of Unova's gym leaders is that they have a job outside of their gym (ex. one is a model, another a painter, the three twins own a restaurant, etc.). A job that would fit Gregory (other than lawyer) would be a teacher at a pokémon school, I think. Also since he's a Gym leader he would be taking care of his city/community, for example when a pokémon goes berserk and needs to be calmed down, or in case of... maybe a fire? a fire would be pretty common in the pokémon world I think. Miles would think of him as a hero, just like he does in AA. I also think it would fit him to secretly work for Interpol (like Looker) and be secretly investigating VK (who's maybe a very influencial businessman and in the public eye, and an undefeated trainer as well).

Now there's the issue of how DL-6 would translate to this AU. I think the earthquake should still happen (since Edgeworth's phobia of earthquakes and elevators is an important bit of his character). And it should tie with the reason Edgeworth agrees with von Karma's goal of liberating pokémon. So he would think that trainers shouldn't have pokémon and pokémon should be free. So let's say... Gregory and Miles go to visit a pokémon school, and take the elevator. There's a trainer battle outside the school, and a pokémon goes berserk and uses Earthquake, but it's too strong, and the elevator stops. There's Yanni Yogi in the elevator too (his job here is irrelevant) and same thing as canon happens. One of his pokéballs falls to the ground, and Miles in a panic grabs whatever he can find on the ground and throws it. Now I don't really know which pokémon it would contain, maybe a Bouffalant? Yogi's pokemon doesn't actually cause Gregory's death, they all faint like in AA's canon. But von Karma is outside the elevator, and Bouffalant gets out hurriedly and injures him. In his anger he throws his Beheeyem out and controls the Bouffalant to kill Gregory. (Beheeyem can manipulate and erase or rewrite his opponent's memories, so I'd think something like this would be possible) I chose a Bouffalant because of its horns, I would say in an autopsy it could be easily proved if it were a Bouffalant's horns. Also the Boufallant would have blood on them. The court declares that Yanni ordered Bouffalant to attack. And Hammond goes with the insanity plea. The Bouffalant is also probably put down. Miles of course blames himself and has nightmares about it, thinking it to be his fault, dreaming Bouffalant attacked because he made the mon come out in a stressful situation. Even though Miles passed out as soon as he threw the ball, so he wouldn't know. So Miles thinks he shouldn't have pokémon either, and promises to free all of them once he's done with his goal of liberating them. Now as to how Phoenix gets the truth out of him, since the bullet thing here wouldn't apply - I would say he simply defeats him in battle at the end and VK just confesses right there saying how much he hated Gregory and how much he despises Miles as well and how much of a disappointment he is (just like Ghetsis rejects N as a son at the end).

As to why von Karma hated Gregory... I'd say it was because they both took part in a battle, and Gregory was able to defeat one of his pokémon, although he didn't win. I would also think von Karma would do something to his pokémon to make them more powerlful artificially, like illegal use of black market drugs or equipment and suchlike. And Gregory was trying to unmask him (the Interpol thing I brought up earlier).

To be honest I'm not sure how to integrate the whole AA series because BW and BW2 are only 2 years apart, meanwhile AA1 and AA6 are 11 years apart or so. Also I'm not sure how it would work for Phoenix to lose his license: would that mean he's not allowed to battle or to own pokémon at all? We don't really know how that works in the pokémon world. But I think BW2 would be a good way to integrate both AA2 and AA3's stories. Anyway, I'll end it here because this was already rambly enough and it's basically becoming an essay haha. Thank you again so much anon! Take care of yourself too!!! And again don't be afraid to reach out whenever you like! <3

[choccy-milky]

Hi Darling! First of all.. OMG I REALLYYY REALLYYYY LOVE YOUR FIC ♥️♥️♥️! I've been a silent reader for too long and this is the first time I came to the surface to thank you for this amazing fic and art that you've made.

I also have gathered my courage to ask you this. But headcanonically (if that's even a word but wtv 😭) in your fic world. Did Sebastian ever court or interested in someone before Clora? I had a wild thought that he was into someone and had courted them but wouldn't last long because he had to take care of Anne and this lass he courted was tired of his rambling about Anne this and Anne that. Sebastian decided that they should end things because not appreciating Anne means not appreciating him.

And when he dated Clora. He met her again. She desperately wants him back and apologises (She does have another intention though). He declines because he's already ill with her and is now crazy in love with our darling Clora. He chooses not to tell Clora about this. But I wonder what happened if Clora knows tho.

ANYWAY! THANK YOU FOR READING MY LONG ASS WILD THOUGHTS BUT I AM AN ANGST GIRL IN THIS ANGST LIFE. 😭😭😭💙💙💙

AW THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME💖💖IM GLAD TO HEAR IT💖💖 AND OK its funny you bring this up bc i actually planned for sebastian to have a bit of an internal monologue in my most recent chap about the girls he's had a crush on (before clora--omg... B.C), but i ended up cutting it out because it was part of a deleted scene. but no seb has never actually dated/courted anyone before clora, tho he defs did have crushes....but if he WAS with another girl before clora....🤔🤔hmm🤔🤔 i guess it would depend when in their relationship clora found out? if it was at the beginning when clora was still really shy/nervous/self conscious, it would obviously make her even moreso, and she would have compared herself and wondered if she was good enough and if she was doing things right. and i feel like that early in the relationship, if that other girl DID come back and try and get with seb, clora might actually be worried they'd get together again, esp if she ever saw them talking (kinda like the lawley situation, but in reverse BAHA) if it was NOW though and clora just suddenly found out....LMAOO oh boy. she'd obvs be like why did u never tell me, and itd go something like this: seb: "it was brief enough that i didn't see any point in mentioning it--we hadn't even snogged." clora: "well, it just so happens that i was with a boy before you, too. but we hadn't snogged either, so by your logic, i guess you don't care." seb: ".........." seb: "........alright, point proven." (and then seb would be all worried and confirm that she hadnt actually been with anyone before him/that she was just messing with him, and shed be like LMAO YES IT WAS JUST FOR ARGUMANTS SAKE OBVS) anyway clora might be sad for a bit but she'd get over it pretty quick, since she knows seb is so devoted to her/hed make it a point to be a huge simp for her to show her he has no leftover feelings for anyone else LOL (like how he was after the relic incident & during her period) honestly its just hard to make clora jealous in the first place, bc seb is such a mega simp for her LMFAO. and aS HE SHOULD BE!!!👇🧎‍♂️

[maximwtf]

Izzy Hands x reader fanfic where the reader courts him by sending anonymous love letters.

Izzy Hands x Reader

words: 2760

google docs pages: 4,5

warnings: Oddly enough for something I’ve written, none! Is this lowkey corny though? Yes, maybe that needs a warning of its own. 

opening: Your desperate earlier attempts at courting the first mate of Blackbeard’s had gone unnoticed, so you resort to writing love letters. Maybe he’d realise if it was laid flat in front of his eyes. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! It’s been a good while since I’ve written anything fluff-like, so apologies if that affected the quality of this :”D! Requests are still open <3! (please someone request something sword-fight related, or I’ll have to think of something myself)

 “Not worth your time”

How many attempts would it take for him to realise what you were trying to say? How did he not notice even when you thought you couldn’t get any more obvious? Or was he just on purpose ignoring you? Were thoughts that had been on your mind for a long time now.

Izzy Hands, the first mate of Blackbeard's, was either too focused on his work and just didn’t realise or was ignoring your confessions on purpose. Of which you hoped wasn't the latter. For the past few weeks you had tried almost everything you could have thought of, not counting in just telling him how you felt. The only reason why that card hadn’t been used yet was because you didn’t know if he cared for you in the same way. You wouldn’t be able to bear the heartbreak of confessing to him and being rejected would cause. Not to even mention having to be on the same ship with him after, you’d rather take a jolly boat and leave at that point. So you had resorted to hinting your feelings for him through actions, which had proven to be unsuccessful. 

As long as you’d known the man, he had never been too good at expressing his feelings. If he was upset, he might have said something about it to you and then disappear for a moment to resolve whatever was going on in his mind. Never had you seen him cry, but you expected he was just the kind of person to cry whenever he was alone. But even when he was happy, he’d show it through very small actions, sometimes not even his expression changing. You weren’t even sure if the man had ever been in love. Maybe he just didn’t know how to express that either? Or perhaps that was you hoping the earlier attempts of getting him to realise how you felt hadn’t been for nothing. 

Either way, it was clear you’d chosen a man who was harder to read than a map drawn by a toddler. He hadn’t and seemingly wasn’t going to notice you flirting with him, but maybe something else would work. Flirting had never been your strong suit anyway, you’d always been much more skilled with written down words. It was easier to think of what to say and carefully choose the right words, which you couldn’t do while spending time with the first mate. And perhaps you could blame yourself even for the bad success, knowing your flirting and how it usually played out. So your plan was clear. To start writing anonymous love letters to him, and slowly make it as obvious as possible. 

To be quite honest, you weren’t so sure if the man even knew how to read. Though, surely for one to become a first mate they had to know how to read, right? Or maybe that was just your last hope speaking. You’d seen first mates get chosen and there wasn’t a job application that came first. The person who was thought out to be the most experienced with piracy was chosen ultimately over the skill of literacy. Though, Stede appreciated the skill understandably more than the seadogs you’d sailed with for most of the time. 

Literacy had been the reason why you and Lucius started talking as well. You’d started to take turns writing notes for Stede after you had gained his trust. Due to this new formed relationship with the man, you would sometimes talk to him about Izzy. From what you collected, Lucius wasn’t the biggest fan of him, understandably. But Lucius hadn’t been against you trying to court the man either, he’d even encouraged you to write the letters. Perhaps he was hoping you’d succeed and manage to change Izzy for the better somehow. But that was thinking too far ahead. 

Firstly you had to figure out what to write in the first letter. It ended up not being anything too obvious, but you made sure to put an emphasis on the parts where you mentioned admiring his seamanship skills. Not leaving a signature or anything that could retrace the letter back to you, you folded it nicely and sneaked it to his quarters by sliding it under his door. It was only at that point that you truly realised how silly this was for an adult to do. Though, you forgave yourself for the sake of this being the last trick you had up your sleeve. 

The evening passed quickly, night cooling down the air and bringing a slight fog with it to hug the vessel sailing across the water gently. You’d taken the lookout shift for tonight, knowing you wouldn't have been able to sleep. It also gave you time to write the second letter, knowing there was almost never any activity on the sea in a weather like this. It was going to be a calm night.

You sat down in the crowsnest, leaning over slightly as your pencil danced on the small piece of paper. The contents of the letter may have been more flirty than intended because of your sleep deprived mind, but you scrapped none of it. Letting your thoughts run as they pleased, the second letter was finished with a small heart as a signature at the bottom. You folded it nicely like the first letter, using a drop of wax from the candle you had up in the crowsnest to seal the paper. 

The sky began to change colour when the sun decided to make its return. You climbed down, back on the main deck. You’d walk by Izzy’s door before going to sleep and slip the letter under his door like before. Most of the crew was still asleep, it only being the very early hours of the morning. Pure luck for you, since no one would notice you sneaking around like this. 

Izzy was one to wake up rather early, so you didn’t dare to make any noise. At times it felt like you were holding your breath just in case that would alert him, though thinking about it after, it sounded silly. But nevertheless, you’d gotten the letter delivered and made an escape for it. All the way to one of the free hammocks where you got comfy and fell asleep rather quickly. 

After that you took a break from writing the letters. Not a long one, but you had to think the third letter through more thoroughly. You’d sat down with Lucius, and chatted with him about it. As far as Izzy knew, the two of you were the only ones who could write and practised it actively. So the first mate didn’t have many options on who could have been writing the letters. “Lucius, I need to ask something from you.” You started, knowing he might just do this for you. The ‘mhm?’ he gave was all you needed as a sign to explain further. “Give the third letter to him.” You said quickly, biting your inner lip. The plan was to ask Lucius to give the letter, and when Izzy would eventually realise it wasn’t written by Lucius, he wouldn’t have many options left. Lucius stared at you for a moment before a faint smirk formed on his face. “Alright.” He said, raising his eyebrows in a knowing manner. It seemed he didn’t need a further explanation, the plan being clear to him.

After the conversation, you got to writing. This letter was more bold, more straight forward. You allowed your handwriting to differ more clearly from Lucius’, making it more obvious it wasn’t from the other man. Half way through writing, you leaned back on the chair. Was this even going to work? You had continued talking to Izzy after the first two, but he didn’t seem like he was even trying to figure out who was sending the letters. Or maybe you’d just missed his eyes wandering across the deck when he thought no one was looking, desperate to find who’d written words like that of him. Who in the crew would ever think of such things of someone like him?

You shook your head, resuming back to the letter. Writing the third one took the longest, only because it had all your thoughts in it. A proper confession with an ‘I love you’ at the end. You thought of signing this one, but then decided against it. He was witty enough to figure out it was you based on the letter, and if he felt the same he’d come looking for you. Hopefully.

That same evening you delivered the letter to Lucius, almost scared to let go of it. With a swift wink Lucius took it, and promised to give it to the first mate just before the crew usually went to rest. That way you’d be up in the crowsnest, the look-out shift taken by you yet again, and you could get some fresh air before having to face the first mate. 

Time passed, the tension within your body building up. With stiff steps you got up to the crowsnest and slid against the mast to sit down. A deep breath. Lucius would have given Izzy the letter around this time. There was no turning back now, but there was also still that part of you that didn’t even want to. You’d waited for long enough, and this was like ripping off a bandaid, only you didn’t know what the damage under would be. If any. 

Lucius had found Izzy, handing the letter to the man with that same amused grin on his face which he had tried to hide. “What is this?” Izzy asked, furrowing his brows slightly as he accepted the piece of paper. “Have you-?” He was about to add, but Lucius was already turning away to leave. “That is for you to figure out.” He said, before leaving Izzy alone with his thoughts and the letter. His eyes stared blankly at the folded paper, carefully opening it for reading. 

The first mate’s eyes scanned through the words, his free hand going slightly over his mouth. This letter had far more passion in it than the other two mysterious letters he’d received. But yet it was written tenderly with care, still anonymous. Lucius had been such an asshole about revealing who it was. Of course he had thought it must have been Lucius playing with him from the start, but after the second letter it had gotten far too advanced to be just a crude joke anymore, he hoped. But there weren’t many literate men on the ship.

Izzy took the time to find Stede’s diary in his hands, scrolling through it just enough to be able to compare the two handwritings together. He knew you and Lucus took turns writing notes for Stede, and to his luck he was able to match the styles. Lucius’ handwriting looked different from the one used in the letter, but the other style in the diary matched the one in the letter’s almost perfectly. It was you, had been this whole time.

Izzy slammed the book shut, folding the letter into his pocket and making his way to the main deck where he knew you were. Just today he’d told you to skip and leave the shift for him, but you'd strongly insisted against it, saying you didn’t feel tired due to the full moon. He’d wanted to ask what you were talking about, the time of the moon being full still at minimum a week away, but you had left before he was able to. But now he knew why you’d left so abruptly. 

Izzy appeared on the main deck, gaze searching for you. The deck itself was empty, it wasn’t yet so dark that he couldn’t see as much. The sky was clear of clouds, no fog in sight. No lookout in this weather would be on deck, you must have been in the crowsnest. His gaze travelled up, seeing the faint light of a candle up in the mast. “Aye!” He called out, voice keyed up. He hadn’t even thought of what to say, just wanting to know why you thought such things of him, still in the belief it must have been a bad joke being played on him. 

Izzy’s voice made your heart skip a beat, making you tense. He’d figured it out, of course he had. You swallowed, finding your mouth dry and jaw tense. “Yeah?” You called back, frozen in place. It didn’t take long for the man to reply. “Come on down here!” Another hard swallow. You should have just jumped over the gunwale earlier or left on a jolly boat, this was terrifying. “In a moment!” Your voice wavered as you got up and started climbing down, through the lubber’s hole, towards the main deck. 

It felt like the wooden flooring was lava as you stepped on it, finding Izzy standing there. The faint light of a singular lantern giving some light in the otherwise dark environment. You felt like running away as Izzy pulled the latest letter from his pocket. “Did you..write these?” He asked, breaking the silence which had been creeping its way between the two of you. You hadn’t even realised the force you’d been biting your inner lip at, before now. “I- Yes.” Your voice betrayed you yet again, the words coming out shaky. Almost like you thought you were in trouble? “So Lucius is off the hook.” Izzy said, the words not making you feel any better. “So I’m still- on the hook?” You asked, a light joke in an attempt to make the nervous sweat back down. “You could say so.” He put the letter back into his pocket. “Surely you don’t fucking think of me in that way?” The first mate added, the tone of his voice giving you the impression of him thinking you were tricking him. 

You wanted to reach out to him, to somehow tell him that you were speaking the truth, but your mouth was still dry. All words that were so beautifully written on the paper, now somehow gone, disappeared into thin air. Or in this case thick air, you felt like you couldn’t bloody breathe. “Izzy, I meant every word.” You said, voice almost so silent you feared it might have gotten lost in the light wind. Though, in truth there only being a cat’s paw on the water. Izzy’s eyes snapped on you, almost dropping the cigarette he’d been about to light. “You-” He started, but you wanted not to hear the things the man thought of himself. “Yes, I love you, you moron.” You allowed yourself to say, taking an awkward step closer to him. “Dear, I’m not worth your time…” He started yet again, which you wanted so desperately to end. He did not see the things you saw in him. “Shut up, please.” You took the cigarette from his hand, daring to look into his eyes, your gaze searching for his answer. Did he feel the same? 

Izzy must have seen the question marks in your eyes, as his expression softened to one of slight worry. “Please, don’t do this to me.” He said, his hand rising but not quite sure what he should do. “Say it.” You pleaded, eyes glued on his. “I do, more than I should. I love you” You bit back a relieved smile, gently placing your free hand on his collar. He didn’t pull away, rather leaned in which you took as a yes to kissing  him. It didn’t last long, the tension of it making you pull away slowly, but not far. His face left with a mix of emotions, of which most he didn’t know how to express. You smiled, turning to light the cigarette with the flame of the lantern. You took a quick drag from it before placing it near the man’s lips. He raised his hand enough to take a hold of the cigarette, mouth left softly agape. “I love you-” He said, voice lost, like he had to repeat the phrase just to make it sound real to himself. You wanted to reply, but a wave hit the bow of the ship. You wouldn't have otherwise reacted, but the moment had caught you off guard, just like the wave. It swayed the ship softly, pushing you against him. There was no real danger of tumbling over, but the first mate still placed his free hand swiftly behind your back, looking rather awkward after. “I know.” You smiled, now knowing saying that was true. Finally you knew he cared for you too, knew that he’d realised how you felt.

AN// It's yet again 4am when I proof read this, so if there are any mistakes I apologise for that!

[ofsunnydays-and-moonlitnights]

Of Playful Days and Silent Nights

Chapter 1: A Robot Teacher?

You look up from your HoloScreen and the work your grading as a knock sounds through your room.

“Come in?” It must be one of your fellow teachers here to bug you, you assume.

You stand immediately as the Headmaster clears his throat. He's always demands respect he doesn't deserve.

“How can I help you sir?”

“Would you mind working a little late tonight?”

“I could make that work sir, what extra work do you have in mind?”

“Something quite special. I have a solution for the nursery class.”

“Oh? A new teacher is joining us?” What does that have to do with you?

“Something like that. Just follow and you'll see.”

He leads you into the nursery class. Sat there half out of its box is a robot? A dark yellow robot that resembles the sun if it was personified and dressed as a court jester of long ago.

“Oh is this a new model? I've never seen one like this.” you ask but as you inspect it closer you notice the layer of dust covering it… now you feel silly.

“On the contrary, This is a vintage animatronic, A fazbear original.”

“Oh wow.” Fazbear rings a bell in your head but you’ve never really been big into the whole robot industry all you know are from the adverts on the Holovision if you’re being honest you weren’t all that keen on them. You know Mr. Moosifer is very into his vintage robots though so it must be a big deal.

“Someone bought a warehouse and found it full of these old animatronics. Would have bought them all if I had the budget, they were all far too expensive. I charged this one on the school account, He was a daycare attendant, apparently has a security mode as well, perfect since I almost had to hire a security guard since the graffiti incident last week, who even sells spray paint these days. Anyway, Two birds one stone, and it’ll be cheaper in the long run.” he looks so smug and full of himself. “At least I can say I technically own a vintage robot,” he laughs. “Wait till the others at the digital Golfing Alley hear about this.”

Oh finally he stopped talking...

“And what do you want my help with?”

“Clean it and reboot it would you. It might need a debrief or something. I don’t care how long it takes but I dismissed the substitute so have it ready for the morning class.” He hands you a very thicc manual book.

“Sure thing.” you smile, the most fake smile you could muster.

He leaves. You hate being such a suck up to that old man. The new powerplant isn’t the only reason Patrick left in a hurry.

It’s just you and the currently lifeless robot. You hope it’s lifeless, robots are lifeless right? It looks like it's looking at you... If its vintage could it be haunted?

You’ve heard of some people thinking robots have life, some going as far to advocate for robot equality and rights, others even pushing for robot marriage, that's just how far advanced AI is you suppose, either that or the worlds just that delusional, you can’t imagine an antique like this being so advanced, you doubt it can even keep up with the children nevermind teach them. Bur your experience with robots isn't extensive at all since the cheaper models you've met in the lower city aren't even advanced like at all, most are just glorified auto machinery.

You sigh, enough stalling...

"Better check this manual for how to clean this thing." You grumble.

You need this job, you remind yourself.

You pick up the book, it’s heavy. Under the title that reads ‘The Daycare Attendant’ sits a picture of two similar robots, one blue and starry the other a match to the one in front of you, it must be part of a series or something?

You flick through looking for cleaning instructions. Finally you find them.

‘Instructions on cleaning the Sun daycare attendant.’

That's got to be this one right? He’s definitely sun themed.

‘Use Fazbear SunShine gentle multi surface cleaner, or SunShine soap for tough dirt and grime. If these are not available please order them at Fazbear.org/shop/cleaning/dca using your staff assigned code. In the meantime these suitable substitutes should be used (in order of most suitable to least): SunShine bubble bath, SunShine hand soap, SunShine shampoo, SunShine laundry soap, SunShine dish soap, SunShine wood polish, any SleepyTime products suitable for the moon DCA, regular dish soap, or any Gentle multi surface cleaner. Caution avoid harsh chemicals to avoid damaging the paint or irritating the skin of any children coming into contact with the daycare attendant. None of the SunShine kitchen or toilet and bathroom lines of cleaning products are suitable for cleaning the DCA, Never use bleach. Always use warm water and a gentle cloth or sponge. Never use a scourer or brush to clean the DCA. Elbow grease is all you need.’

You're curious about this Fazbear sunshine cleaner so you Holo it on your Holowatch. The website doesn’t exist but you can find old posts about the nostalgia and recipes that give a similar smell. Oh the channel NostalgicScents has a few bottles of the laundry soap on sale. Oh ouch a million credits for a small bottle of 10 units is ridiculous. It is a vintage product so maybe you shouldn't be surprised.

What were the alternatives? Dish soap or multi surface cleaner…?

You’re pretty sure there's some dish soap in the cafeteria so you head in search of some. You find said soap and a washing up bowl, filling it with warm water and bringing it all the way back to the nursery classroom.

Re-thinking your plan, it might not be best to wash him on the colourful dinosaur carpet so you instead decide to drag it into the little kids bathrooms.

It's heavy and lanky, it bends in way too many places making it difficult to keep a grip. But you manage and lean it against the bath tub....

You face palm at the realisation that there's a bath in here to clean up any bad messes the kids get into, odd for a school you know but this was pre-K nursery. Toddlers had a way of making the worst messes.

You place your bowl in the bath and using the dish cloth start wiping the dust and grime off the robot. You wonder if it’ll even work, you hope it’s waterproof, the Manual told you to use soapy water so it can’t be wrong could it, did soap and water mean something different back then? You shake away your worries, It’s too late now, the worst that could happen is you get fired, that doesn't sound too bad about now. You would have left this town a long time ago if you had the savings, then again... you’d rather not be homeless.

You wipe away the grime on its face revealing a bright yellow. It looks friendly if not ever so slightly creepy. You move onto its arms, underneath the dust on its right arm is a series of numbers carved into the metal, it looks like your birthday? The month and day that is. What a weird coincidence it must be a serial number of some kind. You finish cleaning it up and turn back to the manual to know how to turn it on. You follow the instructions, taking a small piece of metal from the shoulder and using it to press the button through a hole in the back of its head just as the book had told you to.

Start up commencing. . .

Connecting to Faz network….

No Faz network detected…

Connecting to the local network…

Connected…

Estimated storage time 50 years…

Please wait as calibrations commence.

“Wow…” 50 years you think to yourself. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was vintage. It should teach history class, not the nursery. Maybe he’d know what fish were like, were there fish in the wild back then. You shrug, who knows.

Calibrations complete…

Rebooting…

Rebooting…

“S-starshine?” it stammered.

“Huh?” you wonder… Is that it’s Catchphrase?

Its voice was masculine but very chipper with the metallic robotic tone earlier robots were known for. It seems confused.

“Oh… oh um... Hello new friend!” its voice had a surprising amount of expression.

“Hi…” you hesitantly reply.

“You look familiar…” It taps its chin as it thinks? “Have you ever visited the daycare before?” it adjusts its position crossing its legs.

“Nope, not me.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry, new friend. Let me introduce myself, My name is Sun, you can call me Sunny if you like but never Sundrop.” It points its finger up. “That’s the line of sweets named after me, not the other way.” it smiles at you, it seems too warm for any robot you’ve ever met. “Would you like one?” it reaches into its pocket. “Oh I’m out, sorry I’ll have to go restock.” It stands about to walk around before pausing. It’s ever so tall, it must be at least 6ft tall.

“Yeah about that.”

“Where… Where am I?” Its tone was darker, almost worried. It steps out of the bathroom into the class.

“Welcome to Angel Valley Primary school?” you shrug.

“Where’s the daycare?” It clutches its hands in front of itself… anxiously? “Where’s the pizza plex?”

“Closed? I assume? You’ve been in storage for like 50 years.”

“50 years!?” It rubs its right arm. “That’s so long…” It drums its fingers on its teeth. “Do you work for fazbear entertainment? Are you opening up a new daycare? It's a little small, where are the play structures? I'm not ready for a new handler, when are the kids coming? Where will they have naptime? There's not even a stage…”

You watch as it paces and rambles, it almost looks like a panic attack or something. Surely a robot can’t have one of those right.

“Hey!” you call out. “Stop that.”

It stops and looks at you, practically shaking as it tries to stay still.

“There’s no daycare, or fazbear whatever. You have a new prerogative as a teacher at this school.”

It sits, closing its eyes and takes a breath? Maybe it's cooling its system or something. Does overheating make a robot jittery?

It starts counting.

“It has anxiety? of course it does.” That’s just your luck…. Wait... Unless it's a count down???

It puts it’s hands down. “Excuse me, that was very rude.” it's tone miffed but still polite, the kind of voice you’d give a parent if you were allowed to correct them.

Wait… you said that out loud….

“I’d rather not be called IT. Although as an animatronic we have no gender.” he says with air quotes. “We prefer the pronouns he/them. Thank you.”

Great, the robot has pronouns. How much more human can they get?

“Surely if you're from the future you should have more respect for robots by now, I’d expect robots would have become much more sophisticated in the last 50 years.” They turned away crossing their arms almost as if he was in a strop.

“Not the ones you see on the streets of the lower city. Most sophisticated robot I’ve seen is a store stacker.”

“What's one of those?” he tilts his head curiously.

“Exactly what it sounds like. It stocks shelves, if you're lucky you might meet one sophisticated enough that it can direct you to the soup aisle in the soup store.”

“Oh…”

“The rich in the upper city have shiny new robot assistants that are almost human-like. But your average Joe like me probably won’t ever get to see one.”

“I see…”

“But you should still be more polite.”

“You're right, I'm Sorry.”

“Thank you.” he sighs.

“Soooo uh… Are you calmer now?”

“I guess.” he sighs.

“Good because I need to show you around and let you know how to do your job before I can go home tonight.”

He stands up. His expression is now blank. “Alright.”

“So this is your class, you’ll be teaching the nursery or Pre-school class, most of your students are two to four years old, they do half days, so you’ll have group one come in during the morning and group two in the afternoon. We do learn by play here, It can’t be that different from daycare work. Basically entertain the kids. Make sure they don’t unalive themselves.”

He nods. “Where are the arts and craft supplies? Do we have paper and Oh, tell me we have glitter glue.” he looks over the colourful room, looking at the bookshelves and the toy boxes.

“No... Art supplies like that are pretty scarce, we keep them only for the fourth grade. We let the little kids play art games on they’re SlimNote jr though” you take an electronic notebook and show him.

He looks disappointed, dejected even.

“Plus it’s less to clean up.”

That doesn't seem to cheer him up.

“So no finger painting?”

“What’s that?”

“Oh my stars… you don’t know?” he drags his hands down his face.

“You’ll have to tell me another time we should move on.”

“Right.”

“So the room we were in earlier was the littles bathroom, it includes three big kid toilets and a handful of potties, there is a bath for emergencies but you have to have parents and kids consent for bathtime, most say sure others would rather let their kid sit in his own poop for the rest of the day, but anyway, moving on, your desk is there, the toys there, you can see it all.”

You gesture for him to follow as you lead him out of the room. You turn left to your class.

“This is my class.”

He looks around your space themed classroom and his eyes sparkle.

“Here I teach the first and second grade English, Maths and Space science.”

“Are these actually from space?” he asks as he looks over your wall of space trinkets, three shelves and a table are all adorned with rocks, crystals and other trinkets.

“Eeeek.” he jumps, “it moved.” He points to a tank.

“That’s our little alien specimen, We call him Greg, he’s a space slug.”

The slug-like creature covered in fluorescent colours munches on a piece of metal that you fed him earlier.

“And yes most of these came from space explorations, though some are only replicas, every school has a collection ours is pretty small if i’m being honest.”

“Wow.”

You can’t help but yawn, normally you’d be home by now having eaten your rations and gone to bed. “Can we finish here? You probably don’t need to know any more than this but you can wander around tonight unless you need to recharge or something. Just don’t touch anything. Oh and the headmaster said something about night guard or security or something. Can you do that or whatever.”

“Sure thing…” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Cool the kids will be in at 9 AM. I’ll see you at about half seven though.”

“Okie dokie.”

With that you collected your things and headed home.

This part of the city was almost quiet, the usual hustle and bustle reduced to about a dozen vehicles including your single drive, at least there wasn’t much traffic. Your little two door, one seater car was great, it was sort of old but reliable. You finally arrive at your building, it was one of many in your sector. In sector 10 they build as tall as they can and then crammed as many tiny apartments as possible in there. Your building was nice enough to spare a little room for an elevator you know of many who couldn't be bothered. Your apartment if you could call it that was on the 9th floor you couldn’t imagine how many steps that would be. Imagine bringing your food order up all that way Ooof. You make your way past dozens of other apartment doors until you arrive at yours. You unlock it with your finger print and step inside. It really wasn’t much but it was yours. You’re welcomed by your tiny shoe box of a kitchen, you head into the door to your left, your bathroom, or shower room you suppose, it’s far too small for a bath, you clean up after a hard day's work and heat your rations for dinner. It was supposed to taste like chicken soup but it beats you what chicken is supposed to taste like. You’ve heard it’s a rich man's delicacy, apparently it’s a bird, you can’t see how a bird would be very practical to eat. You've only ever seen wrens and crows though, apparently the really desperate even eat those, you suppose it would probably be better then rat. Your thoughts? You’ll stick to your lab grown rations.

Then it was time to snuggle into bed. You open the door to reveal a bed, that's almost all you can fit in the incredibly small bedroom. You managed to squeeze a bedside table and a lamp in the room, but it was quite the squeeze, at least you have a window. Many aren’t as lucky. You flop on the bed pulling the covers over you and turning your lamp off. Hopefully you’ll sleep soundly. You’d press X to doubt but you can dream harold.

Or not. Hours tick by and you turn over once again. There was no point in laying here bored so you instead scroll through the Holoweb.

Articles on extinct animals, news of a possible storm later in the month, more news on the rich getting richer, more robot rights protests in the upper city again. Oh a couple articles on soulmates interesting, are soulmates real? if you were immortal would your soulmate keep coming back? Can robots have soulmates?

Surely you need a soul to have a soulmate no? As interesting as those articles seem, you'd rather just keep scrolling. Is caffeine plus affecting sleep? That could be it but there is no way you could drop it now you’re in too deep.

You read article title after article title until eventually you tire your eyes out and finally drift to sleep.

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Read the rest of the fic here ⬇️

[tadpolesonalgae]

Predator and Prey[***]

Dark!Rhys x reader

a/n: Okay, so, this isn’t ‘canon’ to the Desk Pet series, it’s more like it’s set in that universe but it’s a what-if scenario! Because I read this and wanted to write a little drabble for it!!!

warnings: uh, I think it turned into angst? It’s not written to be sad, but you might read it as sad? Um, anyway, Rhys doesn’t die, he’s fine, it just cuts off dramatically. Enjoy! :) (also, reference to past noncon, please be careful)

word count: 2,638

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Velaris. 

The city of Starlight. 

Home to the High Lord, and rumoured to be a haven for dreams. 

A place to rest and recover, where the colours shone brighter and the air tasted crisper. Where sleep was no longer a restless resignation but settled over its citizens fully, a night to guarantee fresh minds in the morning, relieved of aching joins or a heaviness to their eyelids. Where even the sun shone brighter, and the moon appeared like a silver coin in the sky, starlight glittering like dewdrops on a cobweb caught in the early morning light. 

And it was true—any occupant would gladly testify to Velaris’ strangely healing nature, the rare beauty that painted the streets colourful and full of life, that had the denizens struggling to remain in a foul mood for long, but then something strange happened. A small change that caused the eventual death of that wonder and healing safety. Few details were given, but it was clear something had happened. Something detrimental to the Court’s well-being. 

And one by one, the stars began winking out. 

It started with a curfew—no citizens were permitted to roam the streets past midnight, and were required to remain indoors until the sun broke across the horizon. 

Then the darkness started to feel thicker; heavier. Gone were the clear nights; the twinkling stars. Instead they were replaced with cloying shadows, a tension that wound its way through the streets and scratched slowly at doors. Searching. Hunting.  

Then at last came the beast itself. 

No one had ever seen it, but to deny its presence would be pointless. They could all feel it, they had all noticed the weight that descended across the city, the clawing tension that tightened skin and had throats constricting. No one knew what would happen if they disobeyed the curfew, what would happen if they ventured out into the night to seek out the thing that had swallowed their beloved starlight whole. 

Except you. 

————

It’s been less than a month since you escaped his bruising touch, the sharp bite of his teeth. 

Less than a month, and your body still aches with phantom pains that blister and swell as though his talons are still raking gently through your mind, plucking at your pain to keep you under his thumb. 

The cool night air is like a balm to your skin, burning hot from anxiety as the clocktower strikes twelve, and the few lights that had been illuminated are snuffed out. You watch from the small attic window as the darkness unfurls, rising from the cobbles, giving the unshakable impression that it never truly leaves but rather temporarily sinks below the floorboards, just waiting to slink out and drag you down into the earth. 

It’s why you’ve kept to sneaking into deserted attics rather that hiding out in garden sheds. 

You don’t want him to be able to find you. 

Just a few more days, that’s all you need, and you’ll be out of Velaris for good. You can worry about what you’ll do after once you’re out, for now you just need to make it past that last house. 

You’ve managed to scout out a couple nearby and have picked the one you’ll stay in for your last night. Then first thing in the morning you’ll be free. As soon as the sun breaks over the horizon, you’ll run and never look back. 

————

Your heart is pounding in your chest, wild and alive as you spring through the undergrowth, bag on your back weighed with enough to keep you going healthily for a day or two, but you’re out! 

The air tastes different, clearer and purer. Even the ground feels different, more secure in some way and you’re struck with the urge to remove your shoes and feel the grass beneath your bare soles. It’s been so long since you’ve been out in the woods that shroud the outskirts of the city, and emotion swells in your chest. 

But you don’t have time for that yet. You’re onto your next task, escaping the court as a whole. 

You’re familiar with the territory—maps were easy to locate in his study, and easier still to pluck from a draw before leaving. 

As far as you can tell you have three options that you’ve been running through ever since you made it into that last house. Option one would be the swiftest escape but also the most likely to get you caught: escaping by sea. Velaris isn’t far from the coast and you could likely make it on foot in a day and a half if you pushed yourself, but the docks would be busy and you don’t doubt he’ll be keeping an eye on them. And with his daemati powers you’d be easily recognisable to anyone he’s commanded to pull you from the ships on sight. 

Option two is to make your way southeast down to the Day Court boarders. Once you’ve crossed, safety won’t be assured but you’ll be a hell of a lot more protected than remaining in his territory. But it will take time and you aren’t sure you can afford to risk such delayed escape. It won’t be long before he begins searching further than Velaris, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to sneak into houses unfamiliar to you which would mean being outside overnight, which will guarantee your capture. 

Option three: you remain in the Night Court and hope for him to grow bored or restless. Wait for him to make a move and reveal his cards. The last option and least favourable, one you’d only pick if the first two were ruled out for some reason. It’s a last resort—you don’t want to spend a second longer in his territory more than you absolutely must. 

Of the three, the safest would probably be to trail down the coast for the swiftest path but it’s true he might predict that, in which case you should muddle your route—keep more inland and go that way, stopping from town to town and slowly making your route South. 

Yes, that has to be the right choice. 

————

He hears the voices around him but is paying no attention to their flurried chatter, useless and completely unaware of the real problems, concerned only with menial issues that will solve nothing important. 

His violet eyes are blank as usual, expression cold and unreadable as the meeting proceeds, watching from somewhere far behind his eyes as mouths move, hands raise in gestures of outrage and demand, postures folded into defensive positions when they’re targeted. His mood darkens—how they manage to occupy themselves so fervently, how they manage to swell such unseemly waves of emotion over such meaningless topics, it’s waring his temper dangerously thin. 

It’s been nearly a month since she disappeared from his life, vanishing from the house he’d kept for her and running out into the night. He still remembers the strange emptiness he’d felt when he’d returned, tired and worn out, seeking nothing more than to fall into bed with her. Nothing more than to inhale her scent again, to feel the soft shape of her body as it slots against his own, hear the quiet noises of her breath as she tries to keep it from hitching whenever he reaches for her. The tinge of fear in her scent whenever he approaches, or the flash of terror then rage that passes behind her eyes so swiftly it leaves him slightly breathless. 

He had thought she was warming up to him. That the lack of protest had been promising, and that the steady disappearance of resistance had meant she was beginning to forget. And he had responded to that by granting her more freedom—not much, but she had access to the gardens—and being that small bit less forceful in his touch. 

Resurfacing into the current reality, the voices swarm at his mind, loud and grunting as they argue themselves in circles. 

He had been close last night, had caught her scent on the ledge of a window near the outskirts of his city, but it had been faint and days old. She will have likely made it out into the forests by now. 

Darkness unspools across the floor, his mood seeping into the room as tension spreads itself across the table, tightening around the council’s throats. 

He needs to find her soon. For her to be out in the woods, alone and near nightfall. If something happens to her…

The faelights fail, flicking softly before they wink out, and the chamber falls into silence as the absent darkness at last finishes plying the life from their bodies, at last allowing silence to settle. 

————

The boarder isn’t far now, but your heart is pounding so hard from running you’re worried he’ll be able to hear it in the few seconds it takes to inhale. 

He’s much too close for your liking, and one wrong move… 

He’s relentless in this hunt, stalking your steps as he prowls after your scent, tracking you how he’d been raised to, following the signs you’re unable to hide in the spare moments your magic deactivates. You’re lucky you’d had no reason to use it after Amarantha’s fall. 

It’s been a while since you’ve handled it, but you can temporarily go invisible to hide yourself from sight. A handy trick certainly, but it wouldn’t be enough to get past him on its own. Which is why you’re thankful for its one step further. 

For the duration you can hold your breath, it’s as if you don’t exist. You can run through the brush, step on as many twigs as you like and no one will hear. Can sidle up to birds and other creatures without them even noticing you. Even your scent is covered. Were it not for this, you wouldn’t have stood a chance of escaping. 

And yet between those breaths when you resurface into reality, he’s able to sense you. An acute awareness he’s pinned onto you that alerts him of your movements in those bare seconds. 

The darkness swarms to the position you’d been not even a minute before, and your heart stops when you spot the silhouette that’s prowling through the shadow. Tall and intimidating, perfectly cut lines stark against the inky blue of the night sky, able to make out the locks of blue-black hair that glint like raven’s feathers beneath the sliver of moonlight. 

Terror filters through your blood as he calls your name, pausing at the foot of the tree you’d been at, glancing at the ground before his violet eyes skim the surrounding area. 

Nails dig into your palms when his attention pauses on you, watching the darkness between the trees that you’re hidden in, brows narrowing ever so slightly. 

It’s impossible. There’s no way for him to know where you are. Your scent is covered, and noise you make is absolutely annulled, your presence itself entirely smothered, so how? 

You don’t waste time considering it—how sharp his senses must be—keeping your breath held as you dart away, running for your life through the darkness of the woods. The boarder of Day is still far off, there’s no way you’ll be able to reach it before the sun rises. 

He’s going to find you. 

He’s going to take you back. 

Your lungs are burning, and you’re forced to yield another gasping breath before returning into that invisible pocket that’s keeping you separate from him. 

In that one second you feel as he shifts, the immensity of his power concentrating to the space not even three steps behind you, and your legs fumble, giving out from terror at how close he’d come. 

You flip onto your back, scrambling away, heart pounding as he stands there, violet eyes practically glowing in the dark as he scans the surrounding area. 

You aren’t going to escape. He’ll find you with the next breath. 

Your heart stutters, pulse spiking as your trembling fingers brush the hilt of the blade at your side. 

At a normal pace you can last about four minutes, five if you’re patient and concentrating. Now, with the panic set in, the wild flutter of your pulse, you have a minute and a half. Two at most. One-hundred and twenty seconds to figure out what to do with the blade at your side and the male stood before you, blessedly unaware that you’re crumpled on the floor two strides from his feet. 

It’s simple once you think about it. 

You have a blade, and he’s unable to sense you. 

You can kill him. Or at least incapacitate him.

The realisation shocks through you, hands tightening around the hilt of the blade, banishing the tremble from your fingertips as you shakily get to your feet, standing before him as violet eyes search for a hint of your presence. 

Again your heart stutters as he somehow looks straight at you, watching the space exactly before him that, to all of his senses, should be empty. And yet. 

You look at him silently, blade grasped tightly in your hands, and you can imagine how it will feel to slide the steel up through his ribs. Even if he is High Lord, even if it’s Illyrian steel and not ash, it will be enough. 

His brows narrow almost imperceptibly, hands removing themselves from his pockets and your stomach clenches as he takes a step forward. 

It’s all you need to get you moving, your feet shoving against the ground as you run at him, pulling the blade back, allowing the breath to slip past your lips as you inhale sharply to give your muscles the air they need to stab the blade up into his chest. 

Violet eyes go wide as you appear before him, moonlight glinting on steel a fraction of a moment before it cuts clean into him, sliding through his ribs and piercing his heart. Your lip is curled, hands shaking around the hilt, fingers trembling where blood is dripping down, features twisted into an expression of frightening fury. 

Has he done that to you? 

The momentum combined with the agonising pain knocks him back, your own strength so focused on forcing the blade as deep into his rotted heart as you can that your legs give out with him, bodies falling together, crushing into the ground as his arms wrap around you. 

Disgust crawls across your skin and you think you might be sick, but you keep one hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade, meeting his horrifically familiar violet gaze as you manage to twist the steel in his chest. His features contort in pain, hot liquid burning against your palm as it saturates through the fine material of his clothes, sinking into your sleeves. 

Breath pants from his lips as he tries to steady his breathing, and you brace for whatever fury he’ll unleash upon you, already making to inhale again in order to escape, but his arm has wrapped around the base of your spine, his palm cupping your jaw so he can look at you. Violet seems to almost shudder, and you can hear the frantic pulse of his heart, skin already paler than seconds before. 

You freeze beneath that look, body paralysed at the familiar softness to his irises. How he’d look at you before…everything. 

Blood pushes from between his lips, colouring his teeth a raw red as life leaks from the wound you’ve made and it looks like he’s trying to speak. 

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, settling gently down as he pulls you to his chest, a look like relief on his pained features. 

“You’re back,” he breathes, fingers stroking across your hair. “You’re back.” 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

I keep picturing this:

(Not yet bf!)John going short of ballistic with genuine worry when you refuse to hold hands.

CoD ML

Okay, obviously this needs context.

So, John tags along with you to the V&A. Now, being a proper gentleman, he first takes you out for coffee and a bite before you slowly make your way to the museum in South Kensington. After all, it’s one of those rare sunny and warm London spring days and you could do with some Vitamin D.

No, not Vitamin Daddy. What was that?

ANYWAY! As soon as you enter, you fall into the habit of wandering about without any regard whatsoever for your companion. It’s not a conscious decision, of course, but sometimes you need to turn your brain off and enjoy art while protected by your personal bubble.

When you’re in the Cast Courts, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It takes every ounce of self-control not to let the scream tickling the back of your throat escape, which would definitely break the amiable peacefulness of the museum.

“There you are! Do you have any bloody idea how worried I was?” John’s lightly panting, eyes wide and pupils dilated with a frenzy that leaves you wondering about the cause of it. “I let you out of my sight for one second and you have me run around the entire museum looking for you.”

“Well, you kinda invited yourself,” you mumble under your breath, masking the way you flinch with a step back.

“Pardon?”

“N-Nothing.”

“Nah, Y/N.” His fingers dig painfully into your cheeks as he grabs your face and forces you to look at him. “You’re a big girl so use your words. Go on. You know how.”

“Y- You wanted to come with. Invited yourself.”

“I guess that’ll have to do for a proper sentence.” He lets go and extends a bear-like hand. “Before you wander off again with that silly little head of yours.”

“No.”

“Hand. Now.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” John growls, forcefully entwining his fingers with yours. The grip on them is firm, iron-like. Fully aware you won’t be able to escape.

You slowly walk about the space like that for a few moments. Eventually, you find the courage to defy the seething rage you feel emanating from him.

“I… I’m sorry, John.” You’re not afraid of his mood, but it’s rather the guilt that sinks its claws into you which evokes tears in your eyes.

He stops in his tracks, lets go of your hand, and turns around so fast it’s like he’s trying to evade a bullet. Within seconds, he has you wrapped up in his arms, his fingers running through your hair in an effort to console you. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m not mad with you, just a little annoyed you don’t account for me and worried about what might happen when you’re alone. I know you’re a capable girl, Y/N, but I still care about your well-being too.”

The back rubs help soothe the storm of tears welling up inside you, waiting to come thundering out. Nevertheless, the kiss on the top of your head calms it. “How about we grab a coffee, hm? Maybe get something to eat too. My treat.”

He holds you at arm’s length, checking your expression while lovingly wiping the tears rolling down your cheeks away. “Does that sound good?”

You nod. You inhale and exhale deeply, feeling silly for acting like a child at your grown age. “I’m sorry you had to see that. And for me not telling you where I was.”

“Shh, ‘s alright, love.” While normally he wouldn’t allow himself to do it since you’re not official yet and he doesn’t know whether you reciprocate his feelings or not, he kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose. “Let’s go to the café. Don’t let go of my hand.”

And you don’t.

(Might make this imagine into a proper scene for my dad’s best friend!John Price story. It’s in the works, btw! I’m currently gathering inspiration and writing bits like the above here and there, organically creating the tale, so to say.😉)

[spenglersweetheart]

I have a request

Yk the court scene, reader is also there having been there when they were digging up the road, so maybe when the slime explodes and releases the spirits (and the judge is freaking out) reader has the calmest bitch face ever even when the judge says that the case is dropped and she just looks at the others and smirks and is like “Let’s kick some ghost ass it’s been to long” or smthin like that

deciding to write this first bc it's an idea fresh in my mind and i absolutely love this so much !!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

God, I Missed Busting

definitely a reader, but it's all platonic as of now!

WARNINGS : none !

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU AND THE OTHER THREE HAD LANDED YOURSELVES in court. With Louis Tully being your goddamned lawyer. You knew that it would go horrible. You knew that Louis couldn't build a case for absolute shit. But for some reason, they had got him anyway. But, luckily, everyone else in the room, and maybe even the other three you were sitting with, were about to get a rude awakening.

You, along with Egon, Ray, and Peter had noticed the slime bubbling. While the other three men were freaking out about it, you were calm. They actually didn't question this. You and Winston were the calmer ones in the group. Right now, all you could do was glance at the slime and then the judge. You kept doing it until it finally blew up.

Wind all over the place, lightning somehow makes its way into the courthouse. The four of you finally stand up from your chairs. You guys witness the chaos that is currently around you.

The four of you are hiding, including the judge. Egon and the other two convinced him to drop the charges. The four of you were finally able to grab your proton packs.

When you put yours on, it pretty much felt like a breath of fresh air.

Each one kicks on, one by one.

Peter's proton pack comes on first, "Do ..."

Then Ray's, "Ray ..."

Then yours comes on, "Mi ..."

Then there's Egon. "Egon!"

You all look at him. You only shake your head, a smile appearing on your like. Egon was silly, but that's okay. You were just happy that you were catching ghosts again.

You look at the two ghosts. The judge has identified them as the Scoleri Brothers. You didn't really care who they were. Just that you were about to get them.

"Thank God, it's been way too long," you say to them, "Let's kick some ghosts' ass!"

Four of you split up. Ray and Peter on one side of the courtroom, you and Egon on the other. Might as well try to capture them at the same time since there were two of them, and four of you guys. Two will grab one Scoleri brother, the other two grab the other.

Ray and Peter manage to get theirs first. Quickly getting into the trap. You and Egon have a bit of a struggle. That way until Ray finally slid the trap over to the two of you. You and Egon get it into the trap, and it closes, there's steam coming from it.

The four of you surround it. All of you are happy with this outcome.

"Two in the box!" Ray says excitedly.

"Ready to go," Egon says.

"We be fast, and they be slow!" All of you call out, pointing to the small box.

That's when you knew that the Ghostbusters were officially back in business.

[animatorweirdo]

Gone And Lost Again

You had been in love with him since you were children, but now that fate threatens to take him away once more, you find the courage to say the words you never dared to reveal and hope it might spare you from the sorrow.

Requested by Anon

I would like to request a Gwindor x female elf reader story. The reader is Finduilas's younger sister who is in love with Gwindor but never confessed her feelings because her sister loved Gwindor. Until on day when Gwindor finds out.

The ending is upto you.

Thank you ☺️💖

Warnings: mentions of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, pining, unrequited love, getting captured, mentions of Gelmir's fate, scars, a missing hand, some discrimination toward Gwindor, Turin and his bad luck, some fluff, and a confession.

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

You were the youngest daughter of King Orodreth and the younger sister of Princess Finduilas. Timid in nature, but well-liked by your people. You had a good relationship with your father and sister even though things had been difficult since your mother died. Being a princess had its own challenges, which meant studying, knowing certain things about courts and politics, and being expected of things. 

It was not too bad since you were the youngest, so you had more free time than your older sister. You’re usually engrossed in reading, keeping up with the latest news, and worrying about the future.

However, the biggest challenge you could not overcome no matter what were your feelings toward someone.  

Gwindor. He was a kind and handsome elf. He and his brother had been friends with you and your sister since you were children. 

His kind and loving nature pulled you toward him like a moth to a flame, and you could not help but fall hopelessly in love with him. You even imagined yourself marrying him one day and having a family with him. However, that day never came when you grew older and he fell in love with your sister. 

You envied their relationship, especially when later they decided to get engaged. However, you could not bring yourself to hate your sister. You loved them both and since you cared for their happiness, you distanced yourself, wishing the best for their engagement and hiding your broken heart. 

It was not hard for your feelings to go unnoticed by everyone. You were a very silent person, but one did notice and that was your father. He confronted you about it and you told him about your feelings toward Gwindor. He was sharp when it came to you and your sister, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him. 

You felt heartbroken, but you were happy for the pair. Even though you might never be able to love someone else, at least they would be happy with each other. Your father encouraged you to be there, and you did support and comfort them when things got difficult and Gwindor lost his brother in the Sudden Flames.

Then the worst happened: Gwindor decided to join the battle for the north despite your father’s orders not to partake in it. Unable to let go of his brother’s loss, he went anyway, and you wished him a safe return.

However, he never returned and you later heard how the battle came to a devastating loss. Your heart broke for him and you mourned with your sister, believing he had died. It helped break the ice between you and your sister, even though you never told her of your feelings toward Gwindor. 

Many years after the battle, to your joy, Gwindor returned with a human man who called himself Agarwaen. He was scarred, had lost a hand, and his appearance had changed significantly. It would have been difficult to recognize him from his former self, but you still recognized those eyes, which still held kindness.

Joy took over your mind and heart. You even embraced him to see if he was really there. Gwindor was surprised by the gesture but returned it with a soft smile. You nearly cried when you expressed how glad you were to see him again, alive and free from Morgoth’s cruel clutches. 

Gwindor comforted you and then introduced you to his human friend. 

Your soul felt at ease to have him back home. You gladly helped him and his friend settle back in Nargothrond. His friend was odd and quiet, but he showed gratefulness for your kindness. You finally felt like things were going to be better, perhaps the Valars have finally taken pity and granted you joy by returning Gwindor from the darkness. 

However, things between Gwindor and Finduilas were never the same. You saw how she was glad to see him safe and home, but her eyes no longer held the love they once had for him. Instead, her affection was directed toward the human man who had begun to earn fame and recognition among the elves of Nargothrond.

It was not too long when she decided to end their engagement and relationship in total. 

Your heart ached for Gwindor as he seemed saddened yet did not feel anger toward his friend who had Finduilas’s heart. Even after everything and losing so much, he did not feel the slightest ounce of anger or resentment. 

You decided to try to be his comfort, especially when some people mistrusted him for his past as a thrall. You understood that some wounds caused by Angband would take time to heal, but you did not believe Gwindor to be a spy. If Angband had managed to tamper with his gentle heart, he would have been less kind toward everything— but he wasn’t. Angband had not managed to break him. 

Gwindor felt appreciation for you and your support. You two began spending more time with each other, catching up with silly conversations you used to have as children. He shared what had become of his brother, Gelmir, and you felt sorrow at the thought of his sweet brother facing such a cruel end. 

Gwindor had come to terms with his brother’s death during his time in Angband. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of returning to Nargothrond and reuniting with you and your sister.

Your heart felt warm by his conviction, and your feelings for him resurfaced the more time you spent with him. You simply wanted his smile to light up his features once more. 

You felt certain reluctance toward your feelings for him. He had loved Finduilas, and thus would never fall in love again, so what would be the point of confessing your love for him? 

However, you had your answer, when the man he came with turned out to be Turin, and he began to encourage your father and the rest of Nargothrond to go to war with Morgoth. A great bridge was built. Gwindor was against it as he knew the might of Morgoth better than anyone. However, no one would listen. 

You tried to talk to your father about it, having your own doubts about the plan. But he was also convinced of Turin’s plan. 

Then came the day when the forces of Nargothrond were to march to war with Morgoth, led by Turin and your father. And to your fear, Gwindor had also decided to join the battle despite his scars and lack of hand. 

You decided to reveal your feelings now while you still had the chance rather than keep them secret forever and possibly lose Gwindor again to the fangs of war who spared no one who happened to get caught by them. 

“Gwindor, wait!” 

The elf stopped when he heard you and turned to look at you as you approached. His armor gleamed with silver, and a helmet rested beneath his arm. It was a sight all too familiar to you, which only deepened your dread about his chances of returning home.

“Is there any way I could convince you not to go? I’m afraid this plan is too far-fetched and you and father will never return,” you explained as you caught up to him. 

“Turin is confident that we might win, and besides, even if we didn’t go to war, Glaurung would still come this way,” Gwindor answered softly. 

“And we could have been able to stay hidden if that bridge had not been built. It’s standing there like a sore thumb, a dead giveaway to our city,” you stated. 

“I mean no disrespect toward you or your friendship with Turin, but I’m afraid his hatred for Morgoth and thirst for revenge has clouded his judgment. Building the bridge has already left us bare to the world, and what shall we do if you lose this fight and we are left defenseless?” you questioned, sounding nearly desperate and devoid of hope at the thought of being attacked by Morgoth’s armies. 

“That will be left to be seen…” Gwindor said with a tone of hesitation and sorrow. There was no denying it. He was not fully convinced of the plan, and yet he could not stop himself from joining the hopeless fight. 

You thought about your feelings for him. It was no or never. 

“Gwindor, please. Do not go. I already lost you once. I do not think I can bear the pain of losing you again,” you said. 

“You know I can’t just stay behind. It would be neglectful on my part,” Gwindor answered. 

“Then hear out what I have to say, because if this might be the last time we speak, I will never be able to say it again,” you said and he listened. 

“Gwindor. I have loved you since our childhood. And I pushed myself away and never dared to put myself between you and Finduilas. If this might be the last time we talk, then I at least wish to share my feelings toward you once and for all then leave them unsaid,” you revealed, tears nearly prickling out your eyes as your heart was open to him. 

Gwindor looked at you with shock and surprise. 

“I do not expect you to return my feelings. I just wanted to tell them rather than hide them and regret never telling them,” you added, waiting for his reaction. 

“Even If I made foolish decisions and became this…” Gwindor motioned his scars and missing hand. 

“I have never been one to care about looks. You might have lost a hand or been scarred by the dark lord, but you never lost your love and kindness. I can still see in your eyes,” you said as you caressed his face. 

Gwindor leaned into your hand, placing his remaining hand on top of yours.

“To think I was this fool not to notice this..” Gwindor uttered with his eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth of your hand that nearly felt like a gentle candle flame. 

“If I have said something earlier. Would you have perhaps accepted me?” you asked. 

“You stood by me, even when Finduilas lost her affection for me. Perhaps it has always been possible to fall in love for the second time. My answer is yes,” Gwindor answered, and for a moment, you felt your heart be lifted from the sorrow. 

Then the dreaded horn sang, indicating it was time to march. 

You two looked at each other one final time. His eyes held sorrow, yet familiar warmth as he gently took your hand away from him. 

“I must go now… If the Valars will take pity on us. They will allow us to meet again in the future,” Gwindor said and you then watched him leave. 

You did not want to let him go, but you did nothing and watched as he left with your father and his supposed human friend. You wished you could have even the smallest specks of faith or hope that winning was possible. However, fate was unkind as the dragon and his orcish armies were the ones to return. 

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

"Difficult to please"

"Focalors with a reader that can switch bodies"

Characters: Focalors x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: The obvious things right away: I've never written for Focalors before nor do we have much information about her yet, so I wrote her mostly from my gut feeling after seeing her in the Fountaine trailer.

Anyway, I love Furina as you might have guessed by me changing my theme for her. She's such a little gremlin and her design is so beautiful. I can't wait to see her and how she changes (well, hopefully somewhat to the better at least) in the story.

I’m going to use “Focalors” and “Furina” interchangeably, since I’m 99.99% sure they’re the same person, but hey, if Hoyoverse somehow pulls a huge twist on us and I get it wrong it would also be kinda funny.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Focalors

To say that you were nothing more than a glorified babysitter for Fountaine’s Archon would have been a massive understatement. Once a young law student aspiring to one day become a judge, it didn’t take you long in your position as lawyer to attract the attention of your archon. Not in the “have a vision and beat up the bad guys” kind of way, however. Instead the weird clients you represented never failed to deliver her a somewhat entertaining spectacle, causing the Chief Justice to “volunteer” you as the Archon’s advisor… a role that, while sounding nice, de facto only had the responsibility of keeping her entertained enough to not sully any more court hearings than necessary with her cries of boredom.

When you found out about your powers to switch bodies, you knew better than to tell anyone other than your closest companions… especially Furina. While she got away with her attitude in her own body, you didn’t even want to fathom how many friends she’d be able to alienate or from how many shops she’d get you banned from if she did the same while running around in yours.

However, all of your hard work of keeping it a secret eventually turned out to be futile, as the Archon would eventually figure it out one way or another. After all, the reason she got so little done was not for a lack of ability, she simply didn’t care about most cases and delegated them to whatever judge crossed her path first, but when you began acting a bit stiff around her, the challenge of figuring the reason out was more than enough to keep her on your case.

If it weren’t for the fact that a small voice in your head worried about where to start a new life after having your entire image destroyed by the one currently occupying your body, you would have found the day in your Archon’s body amazing, you got to attend as many court cases as you wanted without anyone batting as much as an eye, got to have your first experiences as a judge and even didn’t have to pay for any of the most delicious food and drinks Fountaine got to offer. The stares you received from the other officials, probably wondering what could have happened for their notoriously difficult Archon to have such a good day, were a bit much at some times, but it was not like you were complaining.

“I want to change back!”, Focalors demanded the moment she stepped into her office, swinging the door behind her shut with as much force as she could muster and not even wincing in the slightest at how loud it was. Beelining towards the couch as she let herself fall onto it, letting out a groan of annoyance loud enough to make any bird sleeping outside fall out of its nest.

“Can’t handle being asked out all the time?”, you tried to crack a joke, knowing all too well that answering earnestly would only earn you a bored sigh.

“Ha!”, Furina let out a loud laugh before turning her face towards you. “Remind me to make you my court jester the next time we are in need of one”, she stated sarcastically before looking back at the ceiling. For your and Fountaine’s sakes however, you decided to disregard her order and to not to remind her of how she had just fired the last one for “being boring”.

“Aren’t you humans supposed to have interesting lives? What happened to ‘live every day like it's your last one’? Or is doing *this* what you all desire??”, she asked while extending her arms and wildly signaling into the air.

“What did you do all day?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible even though your mind was starting to panic about what you might be greeted with tomorrow. But instead of answering your question, your Archon ignored you and continued to complain about how boring your life was, causing you to start worrying even more.

“I bet you loved this day, watching boring court cases, getting any food you desired for free, being asked for your opinion… eugh”, she let out yet another groan, making you wonder how easy it was for her to read you.

“Furina.”

“Anyway, I want my body back. So give it to me”, she continued to ignore you as she stated her earlier demand once again.

“What did you do while in my body, Furina?”, you asked one last time, grabbing both of her shoulders to force eye contact with her.

“You’ll probably have some explaining to do. I honestly want to see it all play out, it’s going to be the most entertainment I’ve had in months”, she answered off-handedly, causing you to bury your face in your palms as she continued on as if nothing happened.

“I’ll make you a judge as compensation, it’ll be a win-win. You’ll get to do what you always wanted to do and I may get one or two interesting hearings out of it”, Furina stated before pulling your hands away from your face and placing her forehead on yours, prompting the two of you to finally change bodies.

Yet, her offer caused you to feel even more conflicted than you already were. Finally, it was your time to let out a groan.

“That’s Nepotism.”

“I don’t care”, she responded bluntly, forcing you to use all your self control not to fall into the deep pit of hopelessness for your nation currently seeming to open in front of you. “Didn’t you want to become a judge?”

“Yes, but I want to earn it!”

What followed were a couple of seconds of silence before Furina turned around, walked over to a different couch, sat down, let out a long sigh and spoke a sentence so laced with irony that you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at it.

“Fine. Geez, you’re so difficult to please.”

[soypz]

- What Andreas Rönnberg Says About The "Allegations" When Confronted

[TW, mentions of overdosing, mentions of self harm, mentions of grooming, drugs, and a long ass post lmao]

PS, If you don't care about this stuff, I mean like.... don't read it? go focus on the game or community. This is for the people who want Andreas' approval on the situation. Don't like it ? Don't read it

This prob gonna flop but I don't care honestly, i had in my drafts since November 😭. I've been holding this for a sec but its probably one of the final things I'll be making about Andreas because i dont want this blog to be ALLLL about him at all. A little summary is im explaining how the evidence he sends to people trying to "disprove the allegations" has a bunch of plotholes. My friend didn't know what to do with this stuff so I took it into my own hands.

2-3 months ago, Andreas [u/andreas_ronnberg] wrote somebody I know on reddit after he kept calling him out on a thread Andreas 100% corrupted by making his fans who downvote anyone who dare to say they had a negative view of him or look deeper into the grooming situation. He used this long, copy-pasted reply at the beginning of the chat to "disprove" the "allegations" and say they're false and/or twisted around. So technically, this is Andreas' side of everything for anyone who wanted to see both sides, although I'm not sugar coating anything and I'm pointing out his flaws here, my blog, my rules. Plus Andreas blocked me but if he sees this from an alt since he's so crazed about his reputation that'll be funny.

Okay, so first of all, this copy-pasted paragraph is written really weirdly but I'll list it first since its funny as fuck, "The rumors are made by an obsessed manipulative fanGIRL who now identifies as NONBINARY and their TRANSGENDER boyfriend" LOL. He misgendered Sani right then and there while saying he was trying to be "respectful" and then made a PS saying that he mentioned their genders because they hate being misgendered. I dunno about you, but I feel like he DEFINITELY did that on purpose. Also, Sani isn't a "fangirl" of this man, if he used past tense before they were nonbinary it would make sense but using fangirl in general is just odd. but it's whatever and not the main thing we are focusing on there.

I had to split his words here cause it's long but I won't have to much

He shows some of his.... "proof" here and uses his nephews and nieces to guilt even though he did this to himself and what goes on the internet stays.

This shows the people he mentioned about (his "harassers") and another a police report

The first screenshots doesn't matter because it's just saying "fuck you, we claim the characters now" which just made his feelings hurt for a grown man, but this police report one is interesting.

(also I have no clue how this considered his only proof of strong harassment with Sani because there is worse than meanie hastags, especially when he uploaded someone's barely censored nudes... but hm sure sani is more "fragile" 😹

The top notification says "Notification of your decision," and the rest say, "Copy of your police report", you see, this would be believable for me if it actually had a name attached to it.... even though this is the supposed police report against the Sani, Sani would literally say to you nothing is happening right now, not even in court. Not only that, but this (again) shows no proof it was against the victim and could be just an entirely random person he's reporting. If you think about it, if something was happening in court and he was winning due to everything being quote on quote, "misinformation, false rumors, manipulated content, and irrelevant stuff taken out of context." He wouldn't have been privately dming people out the blue saying he's innocent, might as well be very formal and public about it if he ACTUALLY was though.

Finally, he doesn't meet court standards anyway. If they look into him deeper, they'd see his history of drug use (which is especially serious with Swedish laws) and the revenge porn he willingly uploaded on his server.

REGARDING THE OVERDOSE

You see, his idea of this is weird. He and his wife blame his aspergers and the overdose of his medication on all this and say it's okay. Firstly, I don't even know what the aspergers has to do with this, it gives bad representation on people with autism in my opinion because overdosing on something and sexting a "friend" while you have a wife doesn't mean your autism forced you to do it. His analogy is strange too, it's similar to - If you hit a person while drunk driving, ITS OK ! You were under the influence of drugs and if you accidentally killed that person or seriously hospitalized them, you deserve no jail time because it was definitely not you at the time ! And totally not your fault!!

You see where I'm getting? If you hospitalize someone even if you were under the influence, you will and should face consequences either way. It was your choice to overdose. It was their choice to get drunk. Therefore, I do not feel as much sympathy for him on his side, he chose to go the wrong way and messed up a friendship himself, this is not the other person's fault and entirely understandable if they wanted to break the friendship up over it.

Also, he changes it up.... first, he says the overdose was caused by Sani because their blog post about him, but now it was an "AcCidEnTaL" overdose?... hm.. conflicting... if Sani caused it and you overdosed because they made that post, that's not an accident.

Anyways, on more to Andreas' side

Here he mentions Yulia (Yulia is a woman who was involved in Andreas shenanigans he claims was "the overdose" incident. Andreas knew Yulia since she was 12 (he said it himself over voice messages in their direct messages in the exposing Andreas v3 doc).

Here is the screenshot he provided, saying Yulia doesn't want to be involved.

It's very funny how he says Sani takes things out of context but uhm we have this....

(POV from Yulia's end)

"Owe? No, I don't owe you anything, I already said what you wanted me to say, I said that I wanted her to stop it, and I'm not a victim as she positioned me to"

Wow, Andreas. You MADE her say that so you look better and tried to make her delete an archive that wasn't even hers?... such proof, man. Now you see, Yulia doesn't really consider herself as a victim and this is why i havent mentioned her as one specifically although, either way Andreas has said horrible things to her still and taken her out of context to look better. Yulia doesn't care about him anymore but shared her story for the safety of anyone else this could happen to.

He says the things with Sani are completely fake because there aren't voice messages tied to their chats so theres no physical identity to "prove" it if it was real, and he likes to take advantage of that.

Also his self harming; He shared photos of himself on a trip to the mental hospital on his public server, and Yulia had proof of his self-harm photos he directly sent her as well as his crazed voice messages. He had no way out of the proof Yulia had and saying it was fake at the time would not work, especially since AI and other programs could not replicate photos like they do today, obviously.

He's right. He didn't cheat on his wife.... he attempted to. Luckily he has a wife that says to 'understand him' and have him get help although, clearly something hasn't been working if he still isn't living up to her expectations if he's privately dming people about the situation falsely and not apologizing to Sani at the very LEAST for sharing nudes on his server but whatever.

[Also, no one here in the screenshots are a 'fan', just more of his egotistical mumbling]

Either way, if he cheated on his wife or not, thats not really my business and kinda up to her in my opinion, although you see she sees a lot in Andreas. It's such a shame not even one promise she said would work couldn't be kept though due to his ego and delued takes on everything. If this actually worked Andreas might as well just should have owned up to it and apologize to Sani, that's all he could have done instead of tormenting his self through all this but that's his choice...

You see, if Andreas was serious about this, then he would come out publicly and not oddly DM people saying "FAKE FAKE FAKE" like anyone else would. If it's all just misinformation and taken out of context screenshots, then you would have come out about this now publicly and not hide it from your beloved community of people who admire you dearly right? or at least your defenders? I cannot say your whole community myself. But sure make your wife do it for you!

AND HERE ENDS THE ANDREAS PROOF SAGA !

After build ups of DMs, Andreas eventually stopped replying and gave up. No, I do not encourage sending hateful dms to Andreas or anyone else involved. This is to spread awareness about how Andreas ACTUALLY is. Yes, you can like his games all you want and play them, completely fine. Support him, though, and that's breaking the ice, but it's ultimately up to you.

Final note, if you, yes, you Andreas defenders, ever find this and would like to say this is "fake" or "manipulated" as well, I'd like you, in return, give me solid proof that it is first :) I do not accept text-based evidence such as

"This evidence seems fake" ,

"I thought Andreas said/debunked ....",

"Andreas said to ignore this because its old and ..."

I will need your 100% certainty (even though i know im not getting it teehee), as well as you to look into both sides of the story equally before you share an opinion because if you don't, THATS how you spread actual misinformation. Ya' supposed hardcore Cry of Fear fans gotta realize you can't call everyone a harasser or obsessed for having a voice against a popular opinion or vision of someone. No one sane is or wants to stalk this man but his actual parasocial fans. We're just calling him out and forever will cause just because something is old doesn't mean it shouldn't be remembered or not taken seriously still Lol. Don't feel bad for an infanilzed 30 year old man.

Rant over