#my grown cat son i guess ???

[giddygreengalaxy]

scratch that, as i was writing that post my tomcat came to snuggle me so

[phant0mth1ef]

i think i just met my dad in 1985.

-

thinking about you & bakugou having a kid who’s quirk was the ability to time travel, and it’d never crossed your son’s mind that he’d be able to go back in time to meet you & bakugou back in your highschool days to see how you two interacted.

that’s exactly what your son, tatsuki, (can you guess who chose his name?), decided to do with his twin sister, akari.

“i dunno why you wanna go back so far, ‘suki. they’re like a gazillion years old. plus i don’t think they were much fun back when they were younger.” she spoke as her brother lead her to a secluded spot so he could time travel.

“but that’s exactly why i wanna go! i wanna see if they were fun.” tatsuki smiled as the blue light enveloped the two twins, warping them through time back to when you were still two heroes in training.

they landed outside a building, buses were littering up the street as kids in their school uniforms surrounded them.

“i programmed my settings to that it could take us back to when mom and dad met. i dunno where this is though.” tatsuki looked through his programming, making sure everything was right.

“stop feigning interest! you got some nasty look in your eye, you don’t mean what you’re saying.”

they caught the sound of a boy’s voice as they looked towards the noise, a blonde haired boy with red eyes and a loose fitting uniform was standing next to his classmates, a scowl on his face.

“is that?” akari stood stunned, her brother looking up at the boy.

he was shorter than he was now, and his hair was untamed. his face was so childlike, and he hadn’t grown into his features yet.

“alright, alright! you got me. ua’s second rate, if ya ask me. see ya on the flipside.” your grin was something similar to a chesire cat, and your arms were up in defeat as you walked away from the boy, an “s” on your black cap as you entered the building.

imagine your kids surprise when they set the clock forward a year, seeing you and bakugou walking together, his face had an angry expression on it as he walked next to you, his hero mask pushed up to his hairline. you were two work study students on patrol, how cute! although it was clear that their dad couldn’t stand you.

so just how the hell did you two get married?

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi could I request a Carlos De Vil x reader where maybe she is the daughter of Roger and Anita Radcliffe from 101 Dalmatians. Maybe it could be like an enemies to lovers situation but not necessarily enemies cause Carlos is such a sweetheart

IM SOBBING YES YES YESSSSSS ; also fair warning I only write gn / they/them readers so I keep everything pretty in the middle so everyone feels included haha ; but thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy 🫶

CARLOS DE VIL ; a new story

summary ; yours and carlos' parents were enemies in their stories, but you and carlos, not so much

warnings ; language

track ; something new, tokio hotel

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

You knew the story of Cruella De Vil and your parents one hundred one dalmatians. It was told to you as a bedtime story every night you asked for it growing up. So, naturally, you'd grown a distaste for Cruella De Vil, and her son who'd you'd just found out existed, Carlos.

You never sported a fancy dress or a tux, considering you worked with dogs.

During the VK's second day in Auradon, their search for their next class led them past your little pasture of grass where you worked with and trained dogs. From Yorkies to German Shepherds, you had them all.

But you'd unfortunately caught their attention as they passed by, your loud shouting and jogging leading them to you. Mal opens the door, Carlos behind her shivering and shaking at the sight of dogs.

"What are you doing?!" He asks her

Mal rolls her eyes. "Seeing what they're doing with all these dogs"

The four approach you, nearly scaring the hell out of you with their bright hair and clothes. They'd snuck up on you while you had your back turned, in your defense.

"Oh, hello! You must be the new kids?"

Mal nods. "Mal, Maleficent's daughter"

She accepts your handshake as you introduce yourself. "Y/n. Rodger and Anita Radcliffe's kid. Y'know, Cruella De Vil and the dalmatians?" You chuckle

Mal, Evie, and Jay all look over at Carlos, practically pretzeling himself as he holds his arms to his chest, feet stuck together to make himself a smaller target for all the dogs.

"Evie, daughter of Evil Queen" The blue haired girl smiles.

"I'm Jay" The boy with the long hair flexes his muscles.

Mal snaps at Carlos.

"Uh- Carlos."

"Cruella De Vil's son" Mal smirks.

You blink, staring at the boy. "Uhm, so! Why are you guys here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

Mal shrugs. "We'll be fine. What's with all the dogs?" She asks, watching a pitbull nearly tackle you as it jumps on you.

You giggle, rubbing his back. "I train dogs" You answer, looking back up at her.

"At school?"

You shrug. "Better than on the street. Fairy Godmother allowed it cause I'm such an excellent student" You give them a fake smile, knowing your grades were fairly average, maybe just below. "But, it's either this or they get killed" You shrug, "I work with cats as well, but my friend Marie is mostly in charge of that"

"Let me guess..." The purple haired girl begins. "Marie, like those three little talking kittens?"

You nod. "You can play with them," you say, referring to the dogs, "I'm not gonna tattle on you for skipping, I couldn't care less."

Carlos shrieks, jumping onto Jay's shoulders quickly as a small dog attempts to jump on him, wanting attention. Your eyes quickly widen, looking up at him. You look back at Mal, curious as to why he was so jumpy.

"He'll tell you" She snickers, her and Evie walking off to play with one of the smaller dogs.

Jay shoves Carlos off his shoulders, leaving him cowering in fear to chase after one of the larger dogs. Carlos stands still, staring at you while the dogs bark and growl, playing with each other and with his friends.

"Why are you so scared of dogs?" You chuckle, picking a little Shitzu up, holding her in your arms.

"My mom told me that dogs are little demons that eat boys when they're bad" He answers quickly, the words falling out of his mouth. His eyes are running wild, trying to make sure none of the dogs approached him.

Your expression softens, realizing he's not some evil asshole that you'd thought he was at first. Christ, he wasn't gonna hurt these dogs, he couldn't even be within the same space as them.

"Well, your mom lied to you. These dogs are the nicest creatures on this Earth, they wouldn't ever think of purposefully hurting you, let alone think of eating you" You chuckle, scratching the ears of the dog in your arms.

A slightly wide eyed look appears on his face, like he couldn't believe that his mom would lie to him about that, especially so much to create a phobia. But, it made sense to him, she's lied before, she treated him like some servant to her.

"You wanna hold her?" You ask him, referring to the dog in your arms.

He quickly shakes his head no, still a little too scared to wanna face his fear. For all he knew, you could've been lying to him.

"That's fine," you softly smile, trying to make him feel comfortable. You could tell he was a bit less tense, but you tried keeping things calm for him. The audible laughter of his friends fills your ears, seeing them practically playing tag with a handful of the dogs. "You don't have dogs on the Isle, do you?"

He shakes his head again.

"Well, feel free to do as you please. I don't think your friends wanna leave anytime soon"

"I don't think so either"

It'd been a while since your first encounter with the new VK's. But, you didn't think they were some delinquents with no hope for a future like others did, they were just misunderstood and needed a chance to succeed.

Carlos, by himself, had come down to your spot one afternoon.

You were occupied with brushing the shed fur off the longer haired dogs, working on a retriever when he entered.

"Hi" He shyly smiles.

You turn back to look at him. "Oh, hey, Carlos!" You smile. "What's up?"

"I don't think dogs are evil anymore"

"Good" You chuckle. "What changed your mind?"

He shrugs. "You"

You roll your eyes, turning back to the retriever to hide the fact your face was heating up.

"You need any help?"

You stop yourself, looking back at him. "If you'd like to"

He smiles, approaching you to help.

"Just hold her paws like this. She likes squirming"

"She's pretty"

"She's got a hell of a coat"

He jumps as the dog barks, wanting out of your grips.

"Calm down, it's almost over"

Carlos was still kinda jumpy with dogs, even after he'd been on the tourney team for nearly a year. You, in honor of his growth with his exposure to his fear, decided to give him a dog to finish his exposure therapy. That was all his idea, you never thought for a second to try and force him to get along with dogs.

But, he wanted to be closer to you, which meant he'd have to get used to the dogs.

To be totally open and honest, he'd quickly developed a crush on you. Crush as in he was totally, completely in love with you.

He adored your soft smiles of encouragement and reassurance, how you were so kind and understanding, how you saw him for who he was. A lot of people assumed that he and his friends were pure evil, not thinking for a moment that maybe since they were raised by and to be villains, that they had things backwards but had grown into good people. You did that for him like how Ben did for Mal, how Doug did for Evie, how Lonnie did for Jay.

He just wanted to love you, to hold you close, and thank you for being truly you.

If he had to admit it, he'd be honest about how he was damn near mortified of you after hearing who your parents were, thinking that you were just like the retelling of your parents in his mother's stories. Thank God you'd exposed him to the true story and proved to him that you weren't some asshole.

He never expected to fall in love with you like this, your stories of the past told in the present, just a little backwards. How funny would it be to explain how your parents were rivals in the past and you'd fallen in love? How ironic.

He knew at least that your parents liked him, he was not planning on introducing you to his mother though, if that ever could've happened. The barrier still being up was the perfect excuse not to.

But, he desperately wanted to ask you a very specific question, something that could really make or break your relationship.

"Do you wanna go to the cotillion with me?"

"Sure" You shrug. "But, I do have a little surprise for you"

"Hm?"

You stop yourselves on the path in the woods. You whistle, causing a dog to sprint up to you from the woods. He stops at your feet, barking at his arrival. You smile, picking him up, handing him to Carlos.

Carlos, confused, looks up at you.

"His name is Dude. Don't ask about that. But he's yours. He needs a home, you're a pretty fit candidate" You smile

Carlos happily pouts. "Why are you?-"

"Because I can" You shrug. "And you've come a long way with your fear. I'm proud of you"

He scratches Dude's ears, a happy smile upon his face. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome"

"I still don't understand how or why you decided that I needed a dog, but I appreciate it"

At the cotillion, you and Carlos, after Uma's final attack, dance in the pool of water together, soaking yourselves while Mal and Ben dance together. Evie and Doug and Jay and Lonnie do as well, eyeing yours and Carlos' looks at each other, like you had hearts in your eyes.

You both jump in the water, splashing each other with it purposefully.

"Stop!" Carlos laughs, picking up a cupped handful of water to splash your face.

"Oh, you're dead!" You giggle, doing the same to him.

"Watch out, lovebirds!" Mal laughs, running past you two as Ben chases her.

"Lovebirds?"

"Do not act oblivious." Evie rolls her eyes playfully. "Just kiss already"

[lazyneonrabbitt]

🎃 Mister Uruk

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Modern!Adar x reader

Pure tooth rotting fluff with single mom reader, and single dad Adar.

I heard someone say "Halloween meet-cute and, I guess that works for this one

October was only a couple hours away from ending and parents roamed the streets with their children dressed as pirates, mummies, witches and ghouls.

Almost all little ones were back home already and now the older kids ran in groups, racing who collected the most candy over the night.

"Mommy, mommy please I wanna go there!" Your ever so persistent daughter had convinced you to let her go trick-or-treating after the younger kids' usual time 'because the big kid costumes are so much cooler' and made you wear simple black cat ears and drawn on whiskers along with a full black outfit, to match her spooky witch costume. It was clear she was the main event and you were just her sidekick.

But you had to agree wirh her. You were tired of hearing the parents with sticks up their asses complain about all the in your opinion harmless pranks the older kids pulled the day before on Devils' night.

And thus you let your daughter drag you to the large house at the end of the street. No one went near the house, not even delivery drivers dared to pass the gates so thr sons these days always went to pick up their takeout dinners. The house had an eery look to it with its dark walls, original stained glass windows and garden full of atrange plants the mysterious old man who otherwise barely left the house tended to with great care. The scarred, lanky man with the permanent scowl on his face if he ever needed to go outaide the gates

More often you only saw his sons at stores or around town, being the slightly more accepted ones of the family.

About a mother nothing was known, not even the rumors about the family ever had a mention of her.

You had seen the sons roam the streets, donning iconic slasher masks and scaring even the toughest kids around.

"Sweety, don't feel bad if no one opens the door, okay? The old man doesn't like visitors." But your words fell on deaf ears as she practices her elaborate scene in her head, passing the open gate that surrounded the freestanding house.

At the front door you rang the bell amd stepped back, letting your daughter take the spotlight and watched her wiggle her fingers in excitement, no doubt repeating her rehearsed lines one last time before the door opened with a creak.

In the opening appeared the man everyone spoke of but nobody really knew, with his black jeans and shirt hugging his figure. Out from under the fabric peeked scarred skin, from the sides of his head down one side of his neck and reaching all the way over one arm and hand.

His dull blue eyes stared down at your daughter, who instead of doing her little show stood with eyes wide and mouth agape. "Woah.."

"What a cool costume!" She jumped up and had a mile wide smile on her face.

You visibly cringed at her unfiltered thoughts being yelled out like that and gave the man an apologetic look, mouthing 'sorry' as his eyes landed on you. But he didn't respond, just grabbed the bowl of candies he had by the door and lowered himself to sit on his haunches to be at eye-level with your daughter.

"Oh? What pray tell does a witch seek at this house? You are not here to turn me into a frog, are you?" His eyes flickered back to you for just a short moment before his attention went back to the child in front of him, who promised she would leave him be, but only for a grand offer of treats. You chucked at her schemesWith her arms she gestured greatly and held out her bag.

"But of course, your magic majesty. Anything to keep my current form, I have grown to like walking on two legs and speaking like humans do." In his large hands he took a pile of candy and put it into the little witch's bag.

Wigh big, blinking eyes she stared at the man. As well as you, who for the first time really saw him for who he really was; a kind and friendly guy at the end of the street.

"I see you think, little one. You wonder. Was I not always a person? Maybe I was a simple house cat like your pretty familiar over there. Or a dog, a bird or a fish." His hands moved a lot as he talked theatrically to entertain the young girl to the best of his ability.

"Or maybe.." He slightly ducked his head, brows pulled in a frown and pulled up his shoulders.

"..A child eating uruk!" With a quick move he threw up his hands like claws and bared his teeth with a growl that had your daughter jump back with a squeek and a fit of laughter.

Content with his theatrics he stood up again, reaching back inside the house and offering a delicate bag of spooky themed chocolates. "For adults only. No alcohol for the little ones."

The smile he offered you as he brushed his long black hair away from his face had heat rise to your cheeks.

With a thanks you bid him farewell, returning a sweet smile as your daughter happily trotted down the path, looking back and waving "Bye, mister uruk!"

Back home you helped your daughter to bed and cleaned yourself up before changing into some comfortable clothes and laid down on your couch.

Some horrible cheesy monster movie was playing. The kind where the lady fell for the not-so-monstrous at heart creature the town hunted.

The bag of chocolates sat on the side table beside a cup of still steaming tea. They called out to you, you were so curious about their taste. There was no label on the bag that was tied with delicate black and orange ribbon. They looked handmade.

And they tasted delicious! The taste of liquor was evident but not overwhelming, a perfect balance of flavors in the small pumpkin shaped confection.

Adar watched the little witch and her mother walk off his property from the wooden chair on his small porch. The bowl of candy sat on the ground beside him as he lit a cigarette and smiled to himself.

It wasn't often such a young child graced his doorstep on holidays like this. Especially with all the crazy talk going around about him and his sons these last years he was even more surprised you let her walk up to his home and so closely interact with him.

He treated his very few visitors of the night kindly, the teens all wowed with the vast amount of candy he gave out compared to the other stuck up households.

When his sons finally returned home he had retreated back to his favorite chair and sat in front of the tv. The cheesy monster movie not even registering as he fondly recalled the little witch girl and her beautiful mother.

November first was cleanup day, where the community parents assisted in taking down large decorations and removing toilet paper and eggs from houses and share leftover homemade treats. It was always a fun time for the most part, besides the usual posh mothers not lifting a finger. You overheard them complain about certain people not showing up for the fifth time today and decided to move along further down the street.

You arrived at an elderly couple's home thay had such nice flowers in their yard all year round and now laid covered with foilet paper and yarn.

"Hey, let us help you out." The old man's sons appeared from the sidewalk and quickly came to assist, chatting and clearing one yard after another in record time.

You enjoyed working with them. They were kind and lots of fun.

"Oh, thank your father for the chocolates. They're really tasty. Had to put them away before I finished the whole bag in one go last night." The boys said they'd forward your message and everyone went back on their way.

"Dad, please go out more." "Yeah holy shit that lady was so nice, totally oposite of your cranky ass." "You should ask her out if you like her enough to offer her chocolates."

The doorway out of the kitchen where Adar found himself was blocked off by his sons.

"Good to hear the townsfolk like you more than me. I thought we knew that already." Adar kept his focus on the coffeemaker, begging it to work faster so he could pretend to be busy at least.

"Yeah right. 'Liking' us is all fine and dandy but she was all blushy and shit when we mentioned you only giving those out to special folk." With fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, Adar slumped against the counter, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. "I'll think about it. The going out more part, not the dating."

Weeks passed and like clockwork you kept running into the old man and his sons, quick hello's and how are you's shared.

Until one day it was just the old man, no sons with him at the store. You could see him staring in confusion with the basket hung off his arm.

"You look lost." You spoke carefully as to not startle him. His eyes found yours quickly, the grocery list crumpling as he fidgeted with the corners of it.

"I hate to admit that yes, I think so. It's been a while and nothing is in the same place as it was back when I still shopped myself." The words flowed like he never expected they would, talking to a stranger. Or well, not entirely stranger.

"Come, walk with me and we'll do the full store so you can get familiar with it again." You took him along and by the time you reached the register you had managed to make him smile and laugh with you. Much to the annoyance of the townsfolk who just scoffed as they passed you, but you happily ignored all of it.

"I should thank you, for making me look less of a fool. I am Adar, by the way. I realized I never told you my name." You gave yours in return, shaking his hand and letting it linger for a moment, complimenting his home and well kept garden.

Adar felt the looming pressure of his sons' voices telling him to ask you out. But he would never willingly set foot in public dining places that were known to indulge in rumors about him.

"Would you maybe like to come by for dinner once?" He cursed himself out in his head for it, his sons would not leave him be when they heard about this. And of course you agreed with a stammering, blushing mess of an answer and day suggestion.

You agreed to meet over the weekend for dinner at Adar's place.

Saturday came around fast and you were pacing around in the chaos of your exploded clothing cabinet in search of an outfit. To the point of your smartmouthed daughter barging in, who already had her clothes picked out by you and put on. "Mommy you look pretty in anything. Do this one!" She held up a top that matched the color of hers and without any idea what else to wear you agreed.

So you arrived at Adar's place with your daughter for dinner, simple one time thankyou dinner. That's it. You tried to convince yourself of it, but it wouldn't settle.

Aaron, the eldest son answered the door and led you to the diningroom where Eric, the youngest was setting the table and Adar busied hinself in the kitchen beside it.

"Good to see you made it in time. You look nice, miss."

You thanked him and looked into the kitchen where Adar came walking out with bowls of food in hand.

More and more appeared. Meat, two sorts of potatoes, different veggies and salad with dressings, gravy and sides enough for a week.

You couldn't help but stare in awe, not even noticing your daughter sneaking a single fry out of the bowl close to her and snacking on it.

"Please, enjoy the food." Adar's gruff voice spoke to start dinner, and swiftly there were bowls being passed around and people ate.

"Man, it's been ao long since we ate like this. The last time--" Eric's words were cut off by a smack on his arm by his brother, earning the boys a confused look that Adar answered to with heavy heart.

"The last time we ate like this their mother was still with us. It was before we moved here." You let out a soft sigh at a memory of your own resurfacing.

"Yeah, I understand the feeling. Last time I ate like this I had my parents over, and my ex's too. I announced my pregnancy that day, for the first time to my ex as well.. He left after a week of trying to get me to, you know." You made a gesture with your hands and the hint was clear to the adults in the room.

The rest of dinner was had while sharing funny tales and laughing over past adventures, soon all hanging back in your chairs with how good the food was.

Dishes were all done as a team, and finished in no time. The leftovers put in boxes for later and new drinks poured. For a while you chatted there in the kitchen while your daughter had joined Adar's sons who went to watch a movie.

Soon it started getting close to her bedtime, but she refused to go home before the movie had ended. Except the boys had put on the extended version of the first Lord of the Rings movie and it was only fourty-five minutes in.

"Well, now tou gotta stay." The boys had claimed the large couch and your daughter sat curled up in the huge lounge chair, lazerfocussed on the movie. So you and Adar shared the smaller couch.

The movie was good, that was a given, but after a while the boys retreated and your daughter had fallen asleep. To Adar it was clear what his sons were doing, and somewhere he appriciated it. It was just you two now with the little one snoozing in the chair.

"It wouls be a shame to turn off the movie halfway. Another drink?" Adar had that week finally dared to admit to hinself what he had denied for so long. He was lonely, and while his sons may have been pushy, their plans had led to something good. So when he came back with new drinks he sat closer to you, hoping you wouldn't mind and enjoy his advances.

When Adar came back and settle next to you your head screamed at your heart to not act immediately, but to no avail. You carefully settled against his shoulder and soon you two were cuddled up against each other. By the time the movie had ended neither of you wanted to move away.

"I can feel you think, but as much as I feel the same as you it's better for her if you take her home to sleep in her own bed." With heavy hearts you both went on to end the night, sharing contact information and agreeing on a second movie night in the process.

"So, did you at least tell her you like her?" "Come on, you have to!" As soon as the front door closed Aaron and Eric were at the stairs.

"I did not, you scheming brats. But we did agree on another movie night, at her place." The boys cheered and high-fived ine another at the plan. "And the two of you are babysitting her daughter."

The second night, you saw remarkably less of the movie. Limbs tangled, curled up in a thick blanket you only had eyes for each other. Neither of you found a bed that night and woke up on the couch regretting it with every cramped muscle in your bodies. Yet you laughed about it ovee breakfast.

And then by the time the third movie night was planned to happen you were all back in Adar's home. The men just finished up redoing their old study, that was now painted and decorated under your daughter's command. It was her new bedroom after all, and Adar had stupidly promised her to make it perfect for her, and she was very clear about her wishes.

That night when you brought her to bed she just would not settle, and eventually plopped down on her bed to question you.

"Now that we live with mister Adar, does that mean he is your boyfriend now?" Her big, wondering gaze turned into a frown. "Aren't you too old for boyfriends?"

You faked shock at her calling you old. "I'm not too old for boyfriends!" You crossed your arms with a pout. "Besides, Adar is even older. Isn't he too old for girlfriends then too?"

With her fingers at her mouth she made a diaplay of thinking about it. "Yep." She stated simply. "Old people have husbands, and wives."

"Really now? That's what you think?" God, that child had opinions..

"No no, she makes a point." Adar's voice suddenly appeared from the open doorway. "An old man like me talking about his girlfriend has a bit of an eery feeling to it, no?" An amused smile tugged at his lips. "I don't think I would mind being a husband once more, even if it's not on paper but just in title." He strolled over to the bed where you were trying to get your daughter to sleep. "If your mum agrees, tomorrow you'll wake up with two new older brothers, and only if you wish so, someone to one day call dad."

With each of Adar's wordsthe sparkle in her eyes grew.

"So, what do you say, missus? Girlfriend, or wife?" Two sets of eyes stared at you now. One patiently waiting on your answer, and one who, if she stared even the slightest bit harder, she'd develop laser eyes.

"Hmm, I never had a husband before. I think I'd like to give it a try." Happy cheers from beside you quickly turned sour as Adar nuzzled your cheek and kissed the corner of your mouth. It took seconds for her to crawl under the blankets and disappear. "I'm sleeping! You can go now!"

"Come on, my dear wife. Let the child sleep so she can have brothers by morning."

[apomaro-mellow]

Inspired, of all things, an episode of Between the Lions. Steve has to leave his family for a week.

"You're really going to be okay while I'm gone?", Steve asked.

"A little late to be asking that", Eddie said, eyeing the bags by Steve's feet. Robin would be there any minute to take him to the airport.

"I know it's just, you know this is the first time I've been gone this long."

Eddie didn't need to be reminded. A whole week without his husband while Steve went to help Dustin and Suzie with their new baby. They hadn't been apart for that long. Ever. Even when Eddie was in the bat bite coma, Steve had been there. And when Steve had to go away for college, Eddie visited him nearly every weekend, sometimes every three days.

"The kids'll probably wanna call you everyday", Eddie shrugged. "But I can keep 'em occupied."

"Okay, Robin will be back to come help out right after dropping me off. Don't miss me too much."

"You enjoy that new baby and let it be a reminder of why you're glad we stopped at two", Eddie said, giving him a goodbye kiss when Robin honked outside.

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

"Alright, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, fruit cup, pretzel sticks, and an extra bag of chips for any kids that might need it", Robin said each item as she packed it into Ollie's lunchbox. "Is that all?"

10 year old Ollie hesitated before saying, "Well, sometimes daddy puts a little note in my lunchbox too...and gives me a kiss before sending me off to school."

"Auntie Robin isn't quite as affectionate as your daddy, Ollie", Eddie said, coming into the kitchen. He gave the top of his son's head a kiss and then grabbed a marker from the drawer and drew a skull on the back of his little hand, then wrote the words 'kill it today' on his palm.

"Steve lets you use permanent marker on your kids?", Robin asked when Ollie went out the door.

"...Fuck."

"According to Steve's list, the last thing I need to do is help with the dishes. Is that it?"

"There's other chores, but I can handle those once I get Lucy to preschool. Steve probably put that there because I uh, I hate the dishes."

"You're a grown ass man with two kids."

"This coming from the fellow grown adult who needs her brother's help to do laundry", Eddie quipped back.

Robin groaned. "It's so goddamn tedious. Okay, point taken, so how do you guys do it?"

Eddie thought about how he and Steve normally did the dishes. Steve scrubbed and rinsed. Eddie would dry and put away. And after every few dishes, they'd share a kiss. Sometimes nuzzling noses. Sometimes Eddie's kisses would venture below the chin. He let out a forlorn sigh and he dried the bowl Robin handed to him.

"Guess I can't do all that with you."

"You can try but I'll spray you like a cat in heat", Robin threatened.

Eddie let out another sigh. "Stevie..."

"You guys are ridiculous."

[aspiringtrashpanda]

I LOVE OUR COLLECTIVE SON. Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 17 Prompt: Luke Additional tags: Introspection, plant care, super vague hint to spoilers

“How are you doing today?” 

Luke checked the soil of the potted scorching sunflower on his bedroom windowsill. It was dry to the touch, ready for its daily sip of water. As Luke pushed his curtains to the side, positioned the plant’s flower facing the full moon, he checked all of the deep green leaves for any hint of decay.

“A little thirsty,” He acknowledged, “But you still seem healthy.”

His fingers pinched one of the velvety golden petals, humming in satisfaction as the heat that thrummed through the flower seeped through his skin. The fastest way to measure a scorching sunflower’s health was to ensure it was still converting moonlight to warmth. 

“It’s funny to think that talking to you has become a routine for me,” Luke murmured, propping the pot onto his homemade drainage system (a tupperware with holes poked in the bottom, turned upside down in a shallow bowl) and gently pouring a small stream of fresh water into the soil. “It feels like just yesterday that Beelzebub was passing on Mammon’s tip.”

“You are a lot happier since I started talking to you, huh?” With a smile, Luke carefully preened any dead leaves from the plant’s underside. “I do wonder why Mammon knows anything about plants, though.” 

He giggled, pausing his ministrations to consider, “Maybe he tried to grow a Grimm tree.”

With his sunflower care complete, Luke allowed himself to sink down onto the bench that lined the bay window, placing his chin atop his knuckles as he peered out at the Devildom street just past the glass. He had grown to like the location of Purgatory Hall. Off the beaten path, but not too far removed from the stores downtown. They were close enough to the hustle and bustle that demons–most often couples and those taking their curious beasts on an evening stroll–still passed by.

Tonight was nothing out of the ordinary. Luke’s eyes traced the path of a young demon who looked roughly his own age. They laughed, tugged along by an overeager hellhound puppy. Luke felt a familiar squirming in his gut. 

“When I first came to the Devildom, I hated demons. I thought they were bad. Evil and immoral.” He sighed, his fingers absently playing with the scorching sunflower petals, “But now, I don’t think they’re so bad after all.” 

“I don’t like to admit it, but… I think they’re my friends,” Luke’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper. On the other side of the glass, the hellhound skidded to a halt, turned around, and tugged the young demon back the way they came. The dog’s nose never left the pavement, clearly tracking some scent. 

“At least, Barbatos and Beelzebub. Barbatos helps me with my baking, and I know I say that I want to be a better pastry chef to please Michael, but I’ve started to notice… Well, I look forward to giving my sweets to Beelzebub, even if he is the worst taste tester in all three realms. His praise is nice, I guess.” Luke shut his mouth, let the confession sit. When nothing bad happened, he added, “And I don’t mind Leviathan and Satan much, either. Leviathan is always happy to tell me about new games he thinks I might like, and Satan isn’t as scary as I thought he’d be. He’s nice to cats. Cats wouldn’t like a mean monster.”

The demon with the hellhound was trying to wrestle an unknown object from the dog’s mouth. Luke could hear the demon laughing, cooing at their puppy and begging it to drop the stick! The dog’s tail was wagging so swiftly, Luke thought for a moment that it had two tails. The pressure grew in his stomach, a hole opening up in his chest. Why would such a wholesome scene make him so very sad? 

“Does that make me a bad angel?” Luke asked his flower, “Raphael says that showing kindness to all beings is necessary for maintaining a pure soul, but Simeon did that and…”

He slammed his mouth shut, hesitated, and then whispered so softly, he could barely hear his own words,“Would it be so bad to fall?” 

Yet the demon and their hellhound moved past Purgatory Hall, and the moon remained as silent as ever. Luke sat in the quiet, in the dark of the Devildom until a ding from his D.D.D. lit up the device’s screen. It was a message from Mammon, asking if Luke wanted to go hunt faeries in the human world.  

“Why can’t we all live in harmony, together?” Luke muttered, and this time he thought his scorching sunflower tilted its head towards him. 

“It doesn’t feel very kind to keep everyone apart.” 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 22- Did it Hurt?

Sorry for the delay, here's a little cutie enemies to lovers vibe

FICTOBER

Patreon

-----

“Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”

Y/N’s eyes closed as she felt the presence behind her, knowing damn well who it was. Her friend/enemy(?) with benefits, the demon himself, Harry. His fingers curled around her eyes as if to make her guess who it was, like her body didn’t knowingly react to his touch. “Probably the same amount as it hurt your hands crawling up from hell.” Her snarky tone got a hiss from the man, gripping her shoulders and turning her to face him. 

The shit eating grin on his face was all she needed to know about him currently. He was the one being who was able to properly get under her skin- and her panties, apparently. He was devilishly handsome, pun intended, and the most arrogant son of a bitch she had ever met. It was infuriating, and yet she couldn’t escape him. He was everywhere, all the time, and eventually they’d slipped and fell into bed with one another. 

“Feisty, darling.” His lips traveled to her ear, hand possessively gripping her hip as he pulled her closer to him. “Careful. Y’know how much I like that.” That wasn’t a lie. It seemed to get the man off when she fought with him. A game of cat and mouse wherever they went. 

Ignoring the shaky inhale, she rolled her eyes and pulled away from him, grabbing the drink from the bartender she had been mildly flirting with with a gentle ‘thank you’ and her best attempt of a smile. Easier said than done, when the mere presence of the man who had wrapped his arm around her again made her body heat hotter than hell. There was no questioning what would happen tonight. Y/N would go home with Harry and wake up in his bed, they’d fuck again and she would leave only for the cycle to recur whenever either of them got an itch or happened upon one another at a night like this. 

“Alright, mister alpha macho man.” Y/N spun in his arms, looking at him properly with a grown on her face. “Come on. You didn’t even wear a costume? It’s Halloweekend.” Even she had come up with something- a cute little lacy white dress, heeled booties and a halo she had managed to pick up before she got here. She looked hot, if you asked her. 

“Yes I did.” There was that smirk again, pulling his shades down. “M’a celebrity.” 

Y/N wanted to laugh at the sheer audacity, but it wasn’t time in their routine yet for them to get along so instead she blinked up at him with a sigh. “In your dreams. If you were famous people would get sick of you so fast. Y’know people have good intuition. They’d see right through your cute guy act and see the demon in you so quickly.” She was joking, but.. It was comical. HArry? Famous? As if. 

“Well… If you’ve got such a problem with my costume, you are more than welcome to take it off, little angel.” He purred, wrapping his arm around her and snatching her drink from her hand, downing it with a little cough at the end. Her eyes widened, mouth gaped as she relized the fucker had just stolen her drink. 

“H- What the fuck?” She squeaked. “I just paid like, way too much money for that. You ass.” Her complaints only died down when he flagged over the other bartender, asking for one of her drinks and one of his signature as well. As happy as she was that it was being replaced… “Why did you do that? If you wanted to buy me a drink you could have just said that.” 

“Didn’t want you drinking what your little friend made. He was flirting up a storm and I don’t like him.” He said simply, letting her back rest against the bar as he looked unapologetic. Harry did that sometimes- got possessive- but it wasn’t like she was going to sleep with him! Her and harry had an exclusive not dating but sleeping only with each other type of deal, and she wouldn’t fuck with that. As infuriating as he could be, he unfortunately had the best dick she had ever had. Crazy how life worked that way. 

“Harry…” Fingers pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled. “We have an… agreement, don’t we? M’not going to do anything. I was just trying to get a free drink.” Y/N didn’t want him thinking she was going to do that anyways. An agreement was an agreement and she didn’t break promises like that.

“Frankly, babe, I don’t really care. Man thought he had a chance and you’ve been teasing me all fucking weak. It’s my own payback.” He snickered. “Besides, If you wanted a free drink, y’should have texted me where you were instead of daring me to find you. Should have dressed like the little devil that y'are." He grinned.

"Takes one to know one."

[stiltonbasket]

hi!! since you’re the nielan master, could you do nielan in one of your universes where they end up happy? thank you <3

"Diedie?" a tiny voice whispers in Nie Mingjue's ear. "Diedie, wake up."

Nie Mingjue is still half-asleep, his consciousness lost in the strange, sweet twilight between waking and dreams where he knows and remembers nothing save for his husband's warm weight in his arms—but in spite of the early hour, the sound of his son's piping voice rouses him at once.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Jingyi's round face hovering an inch above his own, aglow with a grin that reminds Nie Mingjue so much of a young Xichen that he nearly forgets to breathe.

"A-Yi?" he yawns, through a mouthful of Lan Huan's sleep-rumpled hair. "What are you doing here, baobao? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I don't have nightmares anymore. I'm not a baby," Jingyi protests. "And A-Die, you were supposed to get up at mao shi to make Ba's birthday breakfast! It's already past chen shi now."

Nie Mingjue reaches up to stroke Jingyi's chubby cheek. "Then I'll get up now, A-Yi. But you ought to go back to bed, because little buns like you should still be asleep at chen shi."

"But Ba's going to wake up before you're done cooking breakfast, so—"

"Your Ba is tired," Nie Mingjue chides, sliding out from under his husband's arm. "He might not want to get up until noon, so we still have time to make breakfast."

"I guess," A-Yi says doubtfully, crawling up to sit on the pillows beside Xichen's head. "But meimei might wake him up early, so I'll stay here and keep watch while you cook."

Mingjue laughs and kisses the top of his son's head before making his way to the kitchen. His heart sings at every step, though this is now hardly worth noting—for that heart has not stopped aching with happiness since the day he and Xichen declared their love for one another, some seven months after their wedding; and its song has only grown sweeter in the passing years, beautified and strengthened by every moment he spends with his husband and children.

He goes to the pantry in the kitchen for rice flour and eggs, and then to the garden for scallions. Nie Mingjue will have to make a simple breakfast today, since Wangji and Wei Wuxian claimed the privilege of arranging a birthday lunch for their entire extended family: and he has little time besides, so he mixes dough for scallion pancakes and prepares three oiled bowls for steamed eggs by the time Jueying begins to fuss in the bedroom.

"Yingying, don't jump!" Nie Mingjue hears Jingyi yelp. "You can't even walk yet."

At that, Nie Mingjue drops his pancake dough and runs out into the receiving room, where he finds baby Jueying crawling toward him on all fours with Xichen's forehead ribbon trailing behind her. Somehow, she had managed to make her way out of the bedroom alone.

"That's my strong Ying-bao," Nie Mingjue says, laughing at the resounding slap of Jueying's tiny fists striking the floorboards. "Should A-Die pick you up now?"

The baby shakes her head and crawls right past him into the kitchen, where she takes refuge under the table with one of Wangji's pet cats.

"Bu," she crows, delighted by the sound of her own voice. No was Jueying's first word, closely followed by Ba, for Xichen and Mingjue both; and since Yingying has rarely left her parents' sight, no is still her favorite thing to say.

Strange though it might be, Mingjue adores his daughter the most in moments like these, where she furrows her small brows and refuses to listen to her well-meaning elders; for it is then that he remembers that he and Xichen brought two tiny people into the world, with precious little minds and spirits of their own. Jingyi's mishaps and misadventures, Jueying's stubbornness, their shared passion for baked sweets and dislike of anything flavored with lemon—all of it came from the love that shaped Mingjue's very life, from the day he first laid eyes on Lan Xichen twenty-six years ago.

If it were any other day, Nie Mingjue would have abandoned his preparations for breakfast and returned to his husband's side, unable to keep away from him any longer; but Jueying has already fixed her beady eyes on the heap of chopped scallions, so Mingjue rushes over to placate her with a biscuit before cooking the eggs and fried pancakes.

"You can't eat these before they're cooked through," he tells her, watching the baby nibbling away at her biscuit in the safety of Xiaolongbao's wicker basket. "They might make you ill, baobao. But after your first birthday, you can eat anything you like."

"You musn't say that, A-Jue," a soft voice laughs from the doorway. "Ying-bao might take you at your word, and then where will we be?"

Nie Mingjue's poor, ever-hungering heart crowds up into his throat.

"Xichen," he breathes, holding out his arms as his husband comes running to meet him. "What are you doing up, sweetheart? I thought you would sleep for another hour."

"Without you in the bed beside me, Mingjue-xiong? I've been awake since chen hour," Lan Xichen smiles, leaning up to kiss him. "I would have liked to sleep a little longer, but I missed you, so here I am."

He kisses the tip of Mingjue's nose, and then:

"And Yingying crawled away with my mo'e," he says, perplexed. "Where is she, my love? Wasn't she with you just now?"

A high-pitched squeal rings out from beneath the table. "There she is," Nie Mingjue says fondly, as Lan Xichen drops to his knees on the floor and gathers Yingying into his arms. "We ought to feed her soon, or she'll try to eat Xiaolongbao's fur again."

With Xichen's help, the last preparations for their meal are completed in quick succession; and before long, all four of them are sitting around the table instead of underneath it. Jueying sits in Lan Xichen's lap, chewing bits of scallion pancake into pulp between mouthfuls of soft steamed egg; and Jingyi takes the little chair between his parents, so that he can lean against Nie Mingjue's shoulder while he eats.

For his part, Nie Mingjue sits with his arm about Lan Xichen's waist, and tries not to weep at the sight of his husband and children eating the breakfast he had made for them.

Surely such happiness is too dear for mortal men to know, he thinks dizzily. Just six years ago, a life with A-Huan and the little ones would have been beyond my wildest dreams, and yet—

Where was I six years ago? Nie Mingjue wonders. He and Xichen were twenty-five and twenty-three when the war broke out, and each of them had celebrated a birthday in the midst of the Sunshot Campaign; but neither occasion brought them any joy, for the beginning of another year of life in such straits could not help but remind them that they might not endure long enough to see the end of it.

Nie Mingjue had nearly died at the Nightless City, and if not for Xichen's skill in healing, he would have been stricken down by a qi deviation in the days after the last battle.

That would have been all right, Nie Mingjue reflects. He knows Lan Xichen's mind and heart as well as he knows his own; for Lan Xichen by far the stronger of the two of them, and he would not have succumbed to grief if Mingjue had left him that day.

"Perhaps not," Lan Xichen says now, reaching backward to hold Nie Mingjue's hand. "What you said when Jingyi was born—that is, what you said you would do, when you thought the worst was coming—I would not turn to such a course, but if I lost you—"

His grasp upon Mingjue's wrist grows tighter. "There would be no joy in this world for me from that day forth, though I would never seek to depart from this life before my time," he says at last. "You must know that, Mingjue-xiong. You must."

Nie Mingjue presses his lips to his husband's forehead.

"I know," he says thickly. "I know, my A-Huan. Happy birthday."

[hiraganasakura]

Fascinating things happening on my ClanGen file rn

A pair of apprentice siblings team up to kill two full-grown warriors (who were mother and daughter btw) for the unforgivable crime of *checks relationship logs* being kind of annoying

One of their mentors is bloodthirsty, and another was shameless but became bloodthirsty shortly after this, so they might have helped their apprentices out

Also the apprentices' mom is in the Dark Forest, bcus they were found with her dead body as kittens and when I looked at her profile I realized it'd make a lot of sense if she was exiled from her prior Clan bcus she was evil, sooo yeah she was probably training them

The bloodthirsty mentor is a rogue who joined the Clan last year and may have killed an apprentice about two moons before joining. Also he has a deep DF bond

The shameless mentor is a former kittypet who joined the Clan two years ago and always felt pressured to prove herself worthy to the Clan due to that, so her apprentice's evil dead mom might have recently started training her in her dreams, hence her newfound bloodthirst

Shortly before those two cats were murdered, a fairly young warrior, the son of the mender (my universe's word for medicine cat) and one of the most respected warriors in the Clan, had a vision from StarClan. It was likely meant to warn him of the murders but he couldn't decipher it in time. He does figure out what it means shortly thereafter tho

Instead of, yk, talking to the leader or smth, this guy apparently decides to go full on vigilante justice, and he orchestrates an avalanche to kill one of the murderous apprentices, and the other supposedly died to greencough but honestly I wouldn't be surprised if he used the knowledge of herbs he got from his mom to at least speed up the process

Both apprentices were sent to the DF, which I feel kinda bad about but honestly even if StarClan gave them a second chance (which they might have) their mom would definitely drag them into the DF with her

Meanwhile the elderly deputy finally decides to retire

You'll never guess who replaces her

It's the bloodthirsty former rogue with a DF bond who might have killed an apprentice

The literal next moon the leader loses all five of his remaining lives to being mauled by dogs (TOTALLY a coincidence! [sarcastic]) which leads to said bloodthirsty deputy becoming leader

I'm scared

This all happened in the span of like three moons. Btw.

[lemmetreatya]

Eren is going to let slip to his family about Timothy but neglects to mention that he's a cat and now they think you've had an actual baby.

Context: —> Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

😭😭😭

Omlll the way he’d describe him like that’s his LEGIT son shsjdj his family would be so confused too because zeke’s always saying shit to his parents like “you think im a bad son?! well im telling you, one day eren’s gonna come home with a grown child we don’t know about!!” AND NOW LOOK

“Babe! Babe, hi. Hi. Look, I forgot that I was getting a delivery today for Timothy’s shoes. Is it possible if you could just hear out for the delivery person at the front door for me?”

The Jaeger familiy’s ears popped up at the franticness of Eren’s call to you. They were already on high alert seeing as he suddenly pulled away from their somewhat peaceful dinner but this seemed even more concerning than they originally thought.

Pacing the room, Eren held a hand on his head as he seemed to be in current distress.

“You’re not home?! Shit, babe, I really needed those shoes for him. You know how he gets all cold in the night and starts crying and shit. And I know you said he’s gotta learn not to be in the bed with us but I can’t just leave him in his own bed, it’s torture!”

Immediately dropping his fork down, Zeke looked between his parents in shock.

“Oh my God, he’s got a kid.” He whispered.

Carla and Grisha looked towards Zeke with a face of worry. Even they could have deducted that from the information themselves but hearing Zeke say that out loud made them panic just a bit more.

“Yeah but—…” Eren bit his lip as he was momentarily quiet and most probably letting you speak. “No! You can’t say that! That’s our child you’re talking about! How can you expect me to just let him ‘wean it out’, he’s a baby!”

“He’s got a fucking kid!” Zeke whispered even harder. He seemed happy at the prospect of a supposed nephew but anyone could tell that it was in fact elation that his conspiracy theory was proved right.

“Zeke, Shut up!”

Grisha growled, although he seemed invested in the call just as much.

Groaning, Eren flung his hand in the air before letting it slap against his thigh.

“Fine! Fine! Okay! I’ll quickly go home now to intercept it. I’ll see you later okay? Okay. Okay. Love you, bye.”

Ending the call and turning back to his engrossingly concerned family with a sigh, Eren picked up his unfinished plate of food from the table.

“Alright, guys I’m gonna have to go and come back. I gotta go pick something up.”

“What, for your son?” Zeke snickered.

As if light had seeped into his eyes, Eren nodded proudly.

“Yeah! It’s for Timothy. He’s literally like, the quietest and best baby anyone could ask for I’m genuinely so blessed to have him as a son.”

Eren was almost about to go into a soft rant but there was a bang at the table that stopped him in his wake.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a son?!” Carla burst out, clearly the most distressed of them all.

With a blank expression, Eren had to think for two seconds before he could answer her. He hadn’t a clue what got her so worked up.

“Oh, well I’ve been meaning to tell you lot but I guess it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?!” Grisha yelped in reply.

“Uh…Okay, you guys are acting weird but I’ve gotta go but I’ll be back in a bit.”

Already making his way into the kitchen, the rest of the Jaeger’s looked between each other in shock. However, Zeke only found this more amusing.

“Ah, I told you guys I was the better son.”

[secretly-a-catamount]

The Married Life | Chapter One

This was written by the wonderful someoddbeing on Ao3. As they do not have a Tumbler account they gave me permission to post their fanworks about the Serafina Series and Willa Series here. If you wish to go check them out, which you should, this is the link to their account: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoddbeing/pseuds/someoddbeing

It was a cold morning, frost gathered at the window paines as Braeden got up, his old bones creaking as he slid out of bed, avoiding messing up the right side. The right side was perfect and neat, as if someone was just about to lie there and take a nap.

Braeden slowly slid his feet into his slippers, and watched as snow slowly began to fall from the heavens.

He turned around slowly, as not to hurt his back, and picked up a small picture frame. It was a black and white photo of a young woman wearing a wedding gown. Next to her was a younger Braeden.

“Good morning love,” he whispered.

Braeden went out of the bedroom, and walked down the hall, taking in all, well, the fact he was still alive.

He picked up a small wooded cat.

“Oh the memories of you, little one.”

It was a warm summer morning when I gave this to my fiancée as a gift. I remember seeing her squeal, “Oh, he looks just like shadow! Thank you dear!” she cooed at me, my facing turning redder than the roses I gave her last week. 

Braeden put the cat in his pocket and continued on.

The next thing Braeden saw was a small necklace, lying inside of a cabinet drawer. He picked it up. It had little diamond in the center.

“I remember you. She adored you.”

You got this necklace as a wedding present for your wife, all those years ago.

He placed the necklace into his pocket, and continued on. Braeden soon found another small trinket from his past. It was a ratty old stuffed bunny.

“I remember you,” he sadly smiles.

The baby would be perfect.

She was so small, with fuzzy black hair, her hands clenched up in fists. 

The nurse wrapped her up in a linen blanket, covering her face. You and your wife would bury her in a couple of days.

The bunny would be for the baby, if she was alive.

Your mother in law sneered at you. “I told you, if you married a catamount then this wouldn’t happen,” she hissed to her daughter.

Braeden put the bunny in his pocket, and went into the first bedroom.

It looked undisrupted, as if the inhabitant of the room would be coming back any second. There was a neatly made bed, with dust settling on it, a dresser with clothes still in it, and a toy box full of toy planes and tanks. There was still the letter on top of the nightstand.

Braeden remembered the day the letter came, how his heart dropped as he saw the Manila envelope. This bedroom had belonged to his son, his second born, Lawrence.

Lawrence had always dreamed of traveling the world to help people, so when he got the letter from the military, he jumped at the chance.

Braeden slowly, sank down on the bed, clouds of dust rising up. 

"Lawrence, honey, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Ma, for the last time I do. I want to serve my country. I've always wanted to do this."

Your wife wrung her hands, as she kissed her son.

“Do you have your bags?"

“Yes ma."

"Do you have your passport?"

"Yes ma."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes, Ma. I love you, and dad. Tell Henny and Mallory I will send my love."

Lawrence turned to leave, but you grabbed his shoulder.

"Arn't you forgetting somthing?" You said, as you held out a small stuffed rabbit. 

"Daddy, I'm a full grown man now! I don't need Bunny anymore."

You sighed. "I guess you're right. Don't have too much fun in europe. Stay safe."

Lawrence broke into a toothy grin. He looked so much like you, when he smiled. "I will. Love you all!"

The dreaded letter came six months later.

Lawrence had left for the war with shining things and pictures of his girlfriend on his hat. When he came home, he was in a casket.

[talesofunlikelysapphicpairings]

HELLOOOOO?! IS ANYONE THERE?!?!?!?!

Lmao, welcome back to me !!! I know, it was the longest hiatus I've had since I started this Tumblr account but life has been C R A Z Y.

I've already talked about the fact that I was taken off the Latin Honor list, so that's 3 years of hard work trying to maintain grades, extracurriculars, and social life down the drain. Such a wasteful thing cause I only needed a few points to secure my grade— grades that I had after a loooot of efforts but the idiot 'instructor' randomly decided to take out. A shame really, since I only have one year left to finish my Bachelor's. My mother's 50th birthday gift was supposed to be my Magna cum Laude. I guess I have to think of a new present, lol.

Also, I had to process a lot of trauma since last year and the first half of this year has been traumatic for me. 😂 Had to process these bad boys.

Last September my father had a newborn son. (Child of separated parents here.) Decided to play house with his new girl and her kids, with their new baby (not me) while the rest of his relatives sided with them, too and went against me. It was a messy business standing up for myself (yuck, toxic grown adults arguing with and gaslighting a twenty something) but I managed it. They've learned not to fight me nor ignore me, so I'll take that as a win.

Soon after, my mother adopted a toddler-boy, too. Then played house with her new boy and their own son, too.

I came from a country where being a boy is more impressive than being a golden child your whole life. My house right now is literally filled with gold medals, trophies, certificates, sash, crowns, and awards. But of course, I'm not a boy, so... "I won't be able to pass on the family name." (Like, fuck off. I'll be the most successful member of this family anybody will ever know; you'll only be known cause of your association with me.)

I am soooo glad I don't live with any of them anymore. I've made a home for myself (yes, their money but the point still stands).

Numerous health scares. Appendicitis attacks. Astigmatism attacks. I got bitten by a puppy twice in a span of two weeks. Then the puppy died so we knew he got rabies. (I got my shots, don't worry.) I twisted my ankle. And I've been coughing and sneezing every morning for three weeks now (allergies). You know, the usual.

In good news, I have fallen in love with Eve Best. So... If you watch edits of her on TikTok, you have probably already seen my account since I comment on the edits ... A lot... you just have to guess which one is mine. Lmao, good luck with that.

Also, I was chosen by the cat distribution system!!! I got a cat now. Her full name is Zumi Issi Sannanna Malyk. She came down from my ceiling's open panel one day, laid on my lap, and stayed at my house. I named her Zumi because she likes zoomies (she broke two glasses and one vase in three months!); Issi because I loved Valyrian even though I don't speak it; Sannanna because I got addicted to that Bollywood song that became a TikTok trend; and Malyk after one of my pen names. She's an orange cat so you know she's a handful. Aside from her, stray cats also stay at my garage when it's raining and it's rainy season where I am, so they fill my garage. (I can't adopt them all cause they don't stay in one place. I feed them and keep them warm instead.)

I guess, you can also say that I've been chosen by the dog guarding system, too. Since there are a few stray dogs that are guarding my house from the outside. They run away when I try to come near though, so I just leave the food on my door or toss it in their direction.

I've grown two plants. They bloomed, by the way. Then the one that's got three flowers in it (after ten weeks of me taking care of it!!!)— got stolen. RIGHT AT MY FRONT PORCH. I didn't really mind, 'cause the people who stole it might need it more you know. I hope it cheered them up. Then the other one who stayed with me for five weeks more, got a big chunk of its stem stolen, too. My mother said they probably used it to plant more. I hope the stem grows cause my plant died! I cried about it, too.

University starts again next, next week. Aside from my regular extracurriculars, thesis, internship, and usual busy-ness, I am also set to lead my program's Theatre Org so that's fun (and busy).

So that's the update on my life. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. 😂 I'm back for my usual shenanigans and yapping now.

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Seven: All The Better To See You With

First off, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait! I know people will be telling me not to apologise but I am going to because I have kept you all waiting for too long! Thank you all for your patience, you're all great :3.

I've been so busy with various shenanigans and also just being generally tired... even though exams ended more than a month ago(?).

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter... Though, I have to admit, I'm not sure if this is me best work but maybe that's me being a stereotypical, self-critical writer :P.

Warnings: Violence, threats of violence, people being extremely dodgy, swearing and horror elements

Here's a little fun thing for you to do: can you guess which CoD villain is in Y/N's flashback?

The plan had a rough structure, but it needed polishing. Phillip had forgotten what had worked on 141 and the Vaqueros last time and that was the element of surprise. They had grown fond of him, too fond of him, and that rendered them vulnerable. Like a fool turning their back on a wild cat, Phillip had exploited their friendliness and pulled the wool over their eyes; and whilst he couldn’t charm his way to Ghost, his infection and the renegade, Graves knew he could still use that element of surprise to his advantage regardless of whether it was via sweet-talking his prey or pouncing from the shadows.

Having them completely oblivious until it was time for him and his boys to break in and extract their targets would be perfect. Phillip needed to ambush them. Springing an ambush had worked on the Las Almas Cartel and it would surely work on the Vaqueros and their British friends. An ambush would also leave no time for re-introductions and other such pleasantries, and so Phillip could conceal his shame and preternatural resurrection from them.

However, the issue of having them completely clueless of his pack’s presence merely a few kilometres away from the Vaquero base would require Valeria’s delivery of the ‘package’ to Ghost to be so subtle that the keen-eyed Manc wouldn’t even know what hit him… or more like bit him. Basically, Valeria would need to be invisible.

Maybe, if they extracted Ghost first and then delivered the package-

“No,” Valeria chuckled, “It doesn’t work like that, my dear.”

Phillip turned around to face her, tilting his head to one side.

“How come?”

“The Foundation want you to infect him first, give his body time to either adjust to the disease or die, and then you bring them back either a corpse or a live Arcadian Son.”

“What?”

A shudder ran through him.

“With the live ones,” the drug lord let out a sigh, “it’s always a gamble. Some die, some don’t. If he doesn’t die, great. If he does, no matter, the Foundation will just make him one of you.”

Graves clicked his tongue, thinking about how to react to this information.

“Just don’t come back empty-handed,” Valeria advised, “They’ll be furious.”

“What happens if I do piss ‘em off and come back empty-handed?” Phillip dared to ask.

Valeria smiled resignedly.

“You’ll lose your privilege of being a good Arcadian Son. You’re here on this job because someone’s obviously put in a good word about you. If you fuck up, you’ll develop a reputation.”

Graves chuckled wryly.

Of course.

He knew what she meant by that. No one wants a contractor with a shitty record. He didn’t build a PMC empire by being a bad commander. He supposed similar rules applied here. Phillip needed to ensure his victory, should he want to have some form of success in this afterlife.

As he looked at Valeria, he began to wonder who exactly she was before she became Sin Nombre. Was she like 72 and 23? Like the renegade they were going to capture? Or had she always been… well, this?

“When you were a lamia,” Graves leaned a little forward, “what was it like?”

“Terrible,” she bluntly replied.

Phillip was a little taken aback by that.

“Valeria, hun, just answer my question properly. You’ve got nothin’ better to do.”

A clawed hand gestured to her tied-up state, body flush against the bark of a tree. Her lip curled a little upwards as her eyes glared at his gloved mitt and those ghastly metal talons.

“Fine,” she growled, “I was in Unit 4. My packmaster was the Foundation’s equivalent of royalty. Undead like you. He was… is… a terrible man, even by Arcadian Son standards.”

“Royalty?”

Valeria nodded.

“Did he have a number? Or a name?”

“4242.”

“That all?”

Valeria remained silent. That was all.

Footsteps sounded behind Phillip and he looked to see his men had returned from whatever they had been doing last night.

Two of them were fully armoured while one, 7629, was still getting his chest piece on, pulling it over his head as he trailed behind the others.

“Morning, boys,” Graves greeted them, “Y’all feeling up to a bit of planning?”

They all trudged into the camp rather sluggishly, with mumbles and half-assed nods being their replies.

Phillip didn’t really care for the whining protests and loud yawns coming from their masked faces as they reluctantly took their seats as he demanded. Eventually, though, they all simmered down and, once Graves had cleared his throat, he began.

“The best way to ensure extraction is a success is to catch these men off-guard. They’re special forces, meaning they’re good at their fucking jobs, but, like with any specialist, I find if we make ‘em start questioning their competence in the heat of battle, they fall apart very quickly.”

They all seemed to agree with that, nodding along.

“So, if we want the element of surprise, Valeria here needs to deliver the package to our target without being seen.”

Then, Graves sighed.

“Which is where I’m stuck. How do we get this woman into the base without her or our cover being blown?”

His men’s demeanour had now changed, they had gone from tired and disinterested to engaged, almost excited, as they pondered on what to do. Graves surveyed them, keeping an eye out for any indication of a ‘light bulb’ moment. The atmosphere of surrounding the circle of men was slowly shifting from dull and weary to something livelier. Electricity was in the air as brains whirred, the gears in each and every skull turning, wondering what could be done to overcome this potential setback. The collective buzz of mumbles of potential plans, rustles of idle fidgeting and clicking tongues all gave way to the climax of this crescendo of thought which came from 7152’s mouth:

“Isn’t there a spare of hepta-plate in one of the lamia’s bags?”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“Is there?” 7418 asked, almost to himself.

“Will it fit our asset?” 7629 queried.

Graves watched them all descend upon 7152, barraging the guy with questions and contest. Curious himself, he rose from his seat on the ground and headed for their bags.

Sifting through the pile of rucksacks and duffels, sorting through them by briefly peeking at their contents, Graves arrived at a bag which looked to belong to one of the girls.

Carefully, he unbuckled the flap and pulled it back to reveal a zip. Not a moment later and Phillip was staring at exactly what he was looking for: a spare set of hepta-plate. He returned to the group with the armour held close to his chest. It looked like a small, shining bundle of light, highly reflective and responsive to its surroundings.

He placed it in front of Valeria and looked up at her expectantly.

“Do you think you could wear this?”

She eyed it. The armour before her was made for a girl. As Graves held it up, letting Valeria get a better idea of its size, she realised that it was far too short for her and also, there was seldom any room for her bust.

“This is for a child. I’m a grown woman.”

She looked at him with a disapproving face, relishing in the way Phillip sighed.

“How do we get this hepta-plate on her-”

Click!

In his sure grip, Graves had accidentally removed a group of plates from the chest piece. He slowly turned around to face the group, dreading to ask if he had just broken their ticket to getting Valeria into the base undetected. Underneath that helmet, Phillip Graves’s face was contorting into various emotions, his stomach dropping and eyes squeezing shut.

However, to his surprise, his action had warranted a few chuckles from the group. With caution, he cracked open an eye to see what was going on.

“Ah, I forgot the backup ones could do that!” 7152 remarked as he cupped his masked face in his hand.

“Wait, so I haven’t broken this?” Graves queried, holding up the separated parts.

“Well, can they still camouflage?”

“How do I get it to do that?”

7152 turned around and shouted for a lamia. 72 was the first to hear the call and poked her head out of the tent. A beckoning hand gestured for her to come forward and show her packmaster how to work the shroud mechanism.

With two taps on the isolated plates, Graves’ eyebrows raised as he watched it disappear from his hand. It was a strange thing to experience, witnessing nothing there and yet feeling a weight on your palm, seeing your fingers curl over an object that seemingly never was.

“The gauntlets have adjustable straps, as do the leg pieces. And one of your helmets could probably act as a substitute for a mask I think… if… if we can attach some plates on there,” 72 mumbled.

She looked up at him with her big brown eyes expectantly.

“Go on, kid.”

Shyly, she continued.

“You can also remove some of the plates from the chest piece and put them on a vest that does fit her.”

“But that won’t completely cover her, kid. She’ll have parts of her body still visible.” 7152 was quick to point out.

“She’s a lamia,” 72 replied, “If enough of her is invisible, she can make the rest of her vanish on her own with her mind.”

Valeria felt a lump in her throat form as all eyes returned to her. It was true: she could do that. However, it would take a lot out of her, and she didn’t want to be devoting so much of herself to this mission, to the Foundation. Perhaps the little girls before her could plead her case.

“Sister…” She did her best to appeal to the lamia’s better nature. “… It’ll take a lot out of me. I’ve not practised in a long time unlike yourself.”

72 nodded and thought.

“Maybe then I or 23 should-”

“No.”

Graves was quick to dismiss her suggestion. His interruption hit hard with the weight and finality of a judge’s gavel.

“Sir, you didn’t even let me finish-”

“The Foundation wants Valeria to specifically deliver the package. Not you. You and 23 are to remain here, out of sight.”

“But we’re here to help!”

“Help by staying away for the time being.”

Phillip’s voice was stern and for some reason, that pissed 72 off. The Arcadian Son was being particularly frosty this morning; a contrast to the open, kind man she had conversed with last night. She supposed she had expected better of him.

72 rolled her eyes as she watched him turn his back on her.

“Sheesh! It’s not like you’re our dad! We don’t need to be-”

“What was that?!” Phillip interrupted with a growl.

“Nothing, sir,” she sheepishly replied.

Some of the Arcadian Sons snickered, but promptly quietened down when they sensed the face of thunder Graves was pulling under his helm.  The tension in the air was palpable and everyone decided it was best to keep quiet as Phillip regained his composure and continued with the task at hand.

“Okay, so let’s get whatever pieces we can on her and whatever. Once she’s got the… package in her system. We’ll escort her as near as possible to the base. Understood?”

“Yup!”

“Yup!”

***

Valeria tugged at the strap on her arm, feeling the piece sit better on her now that it was more snug to her base layer. As she turned her wrist, to see what the armour looked like on her forearm, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of the Foundation’s engineers. This was nothing like what she used to wear, although if the woman looked closely, there were echoes of her own hepta-plate within this new, more advanced style. It seemed the days of large hexagons slotting together were gone. Now, Valeria was confronted with the sleek, serpentine plates which, when isolated, did form that signature six-sided shape, but, as she saw when 72 pushed two plates together to cover her Kevlar vest, vanished to form one seamless, unified structure.

The armour shined, looking almost white in the sunlight. Beyond it, though, Valeria could see her reflection, distorted and uncanny. Between the plates, Valeria could make out a few strange dots. Dots which looked like eyes and it soon became apparent that these were the cameras that allowed the armour to see what to camouflage into. She smiled. Just like when she was a little girl.

“It suits you.”

She turned around to see 7418 approach her.

“Jaime.”

He couldn’t help but feel a shudder of revulsion at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Still, it wasn’t enough revulsion to make him completely turn away from her and so he squatted down in front of her, looking to continue this conversation.

“Sin Nombre,” 7418 spoke with a breathy, almost nervous voice, “how have you been?”

Valeria grinned.

“Why bother with pleasantries? I can tell you’re still angry with me.”

He shook his head and then turned to 72.

“You’re dismissed, girl. Go to your tent.”

She nodded and left them.

7418 did his best to contain himself, knowing full well that giving into his anger would only grant her satisfaction. Valeria was a tricky one. The woman was good at hiding her fear under that false mask of recklessness. Never had he met someone who so easily turn the tables on a person, make their vile fury her power. She thrived off of making men angry, so that she could use it against them. Or so it seemed, because, at the end of the day, Valeria’s whole personality was a performance.

7418 had been Jaime once, and Jaime had seen what Valeria truly did with all the anger and hatred that she supposedly fuelled her confidence with. Valeria Garza wasn’t a careless brat; she was a silent crier.

A gentle hand reached for one of his locs, twisting her finger around it. She remembered when he used to adorn them with jewellery, along with his fingers; his hands would always feel heavy, big rings resting on each and every finger.

“Anger doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel towards you.”

Those words hit hard.

“Jaime… I know it’s been a long time coming, but if it’s any consolation… I deeply regret giving you to them. I should have buried you. You were one of my best.”

He stared at her, trying to see if there was any sincerity to that.

Valeria looked into that black void of a mask and hoped that under it, his face was softening. She watched his shoulders relax, the tension leaving him. The Arcadian Son slouched a little, letting out a small sigh. Her eyes were as wide and expressive as ever. Her heart was in her mouth, her thoughts racing around, all wondering what he was going to do with what she had just said.

The drug lord had to admit, it was no apology.

And hence, 7418 struck her, right across the face.

She didn’t even have time to yelp, the sheer force of the hit was enough to shake her sense of balance. Valeria fell to the ground, tasting blood in the back of her throat.

23 watched from across the camp, through a small slit she had made for herself by slightly unzipping the tent’s flap. The girl waited, eyes fixed on the scene before her. She flinched as she watched 7418 deal his blow, wincing as Valeria’s body landed with a thud.  A shiver of fear ran through 23’s body like a brief shock of electricity. She decided it was best to remain in the tent.

Phillip was quick to turn in the direction of this sudden commotion.

7418 stood above her, a looming golem, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was thinking about what to do, whether to leave her, limp on the ground, or kick her in the ribs, for a sense of finality. 7418 bit down on his anger, wanting to feel satisfied. She was here and she was at the behest of the Foundation, at the behest of him and yet, as he stood over her, he felt painfully empty. He wanted to feel like he had gotten one over her and proved to her that he was what happened when you got drunk on power. 7418 wanted to be something to Valeria. 

Pfft. Valeria couldn’t help but smile through her bleeding lips. Get. In. Fucking. Line.

As he saw the corners of her lips pull into an unashamed grin, 7418 snarled. He raised his leg, drew it back and swung-

There was this deafening roar.

Graves charged at him, pinning him to the bark of a tree. A scattering of branches came falling down as the trunk shuddered, empathising with the wheeze that escape 7418’s mouth, the wind getting knocked out of him. The other Arcadian Sons backed up a little, rising onto their feet. They didn’t dare take their eyes off the exchange happening between them.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” Graves yelled.

“That cunt doesn’t know her fucking place!”

“No, you don’t know your place! You can’t just hit her!”

“She’s our prisoner, I can do whatever I-”

Phillip snarled.

“Okay! Okay!”

7418 raised his hands, before briefly losing his balance as Phillip dug his clawed gloves into the fabric crevices in the other’s armour.

He lowered his head, making himself as physically small as possible. Something akin to a dog’s whine, though a lot raspier, escaped him as he tried to find a place to rest himself, slipping against the bark of the tree he was practically propped up against.

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Speak up!” Phillip barked.

“It won’t happen again, sir!”

He let 7418 go, sighing and shaking his head as the man staggered a little to regain his footing.

“Jesus Christ…” the man soughed before raising his voice once more, “She’s the asset! She’s a fucking pain in the arse but she’s also part of this whole operation! Restrain yourself, soldier!”

There was evident irony here and it was found in Phillip’s voice as he instructed his fellow Arcadian Son to rein it in. His voice for a brief moment was unrecognisable, sounding almost mechanical, like a bellowing roar from a big cat.

“And I pegged you for the diplomatic type,” Graves added as he exhaled.

7418 scoffed.

“Diplomatic?! Sir, I was a sicario. And now, I’m an Arcadian Son.”

Phillip watched the man slink past him, metaphorical tail between his legs.

Valeria looked up at Phillip, blood running down from her nose. He knelt down before her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Stay that way and stop pissin’ these guys off. I don’t need this to be harder than it already is.”

Valeria smiled resignedly as she watched him leave her side and go gather the rest of her things, seething with long-fermented rage.

***

You could still picture it in your head, you and a group of maybe a dozen girls, maybe more, sitting inside a dark metal container. The door swung open and someone who was supposed to be your ‘knight in shining armour’ stood at the entryway. Like an obelisk sent from above, he planted himself firmly between you and the outside world, casting a dark shadow over you all.

The screams of little girls echoed throughout the place, as you were herded like cattle, along the asphalt pasture into their planes.

You don’t know how they’d found you, but, now that you thought about it, they may have staged this whole thing. Nevertheless, back then, you thought you were being saved by the special forces or something.

A lone cuddly toy sat on the ground, soaking in a puddle, its scraggly fur becoming matted with mud. You had cried out for your little friend, reaching for him as strong arms ushered you towards a ramp.

Luckily for you, that man, the one who had opened the door, picked up your toy wolf and handed him to you. He cupped your face in his big, gloved hands; the metal talons which tipped his fingers scraped at your skin. His blank mask, from which two canisters of red liquid protruded forth, was all you could see.

A small whimper left your lips, and he hushed you, bringing you to his chest, and gently swaying you side to side.

How easily he could manipulate your body, picking you up like you weighed nothing and cradling you in his arms as he took you onto the plane. You had sat on his lap for the entire journey, falling asleep, drugged by the lullaby that was his voice. Or perhaps something else. Maybe he had taken hold of your mind. Who knows…

***

He looked at you, eyes reflecting the dim lights of flickering ceiling lamps. Bathed in cool colours, akin to silver moonlight, you felt a shiver running through your body as he placed his rook in front of your pawn; an imminent threat that you would now have to think about, should he choose to have the little castle march onward on his next turn and add your soldier to the growing pile of bodies on his side of the board.

You swallowed hard and thought. His king remained stoic next to his queen, unfazed by your nearing army, seeing as his knights, pawns and bishops were destroying your forces. Such was the price you had to pay for every blunder you made.

"Oh, pup," the man across from you chuckled, "had I known this was your first game, I wouldn't have made this so hard for you."

You grumbled, brow furrowing.

He looked down at the board and then back at you. There was a glint in his eye as if he was trying to tell you something. His gaze directed you to a lonely pawn he had, which was ripe for your bishop's taking.

Reluctantly, accepting his aid, you moved to take it, your resentment growing as he took your hand and guided you to the pawn, practically handing it to you.

"There you go," he encouraged, "A kill to your name."

He sighed as you looked down, face tinted with the signature shadow of melancholy. Though he bore a mask, an elaborate, almost medieval-looking one at that, you could tell he was frowning.

"What's wrong, little one?"

You pulled your lips into a thin line, unsure if you should-

"Speak."

His voice echoed throughout the empty lounge, the rumble of his inner beast shaking your chest. You sat bolt upright, eyes wide and alert, deserting their heavy-lidded sadness, realising your emotions were dampening his mood.

"I'm sorry, sir. I-"

"What? Please, don't tell me you're crying over a game of chess."

He rolled his eyes.

"No!"

He looked back at you.

"I mean..." You cleared your throat. "I mean, no, sir. It's not about chess."

"Then, what, pup? What's making you so sad? It's not pleasant to see you like this."

The way he spoke had a terrible knack for cutting into you, like a well-sharpened knife through flesh. His Russian accent was strong and sometimes you found it had rubbed a little off on you, which you supposed was inevitable, seeing as he had brought you up.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just a little... erm..."

You had to choose your words carefully, the last thing you wanted to do was offend him.

"... I hadn't seen you like that before."

"Ah."

He was quick to realise what you were talking about.

"Most of my lamias do tend to be surprised when they witness me change for the first time. I make for a fearsome Arcadian Son. But I didn't attack you, did I?"

"No, sir."

"So why is it affecting you so much?"

You shrugged.

"I guess I was just scared."

He laughed. It was quiet, contained but aggravatingly condescending.

"You only need to be scared if you're my enemy. Are you my enemy?"

"No."

"Exactly. You're my lamia. I raised you as my own, you have nothing to fear should you remain at my side."

"Has a lamia ever betrayed you?"

He scoffed.

"Has a lamia ever betrayed me?! I am well into my hundreds now, pup, think about how many lamias I've raised in the time I've been with the Foundation. There are always defects."

"I see."

"And most of those defects found their end here."

He pointed to the lower half of his masked face, where its metal lips were.

"In my teeth."

***

You looked to your left and saw Ghost, staring off into the forest, waiting for you to continue. A small, sad smile crept onto your face. From sitting across one masked man to now sitting beside another, fate seemed to have found a recurring image and had now stuck with it. Nevertheless, you supposed you should appreciate the fact that Ghost hadn’t attacked you yet.

Yet.

Why were you anticipating the worst of him?

Damn. You were a terrible human being.

Well, in fairness, his job did require him to kill.

He looked back at you, sensing your eyes were on him and you were quick to avert your gaze, taking some feigned interest in a bird that was pecking at the soil. Your heart skipped a beat or two, your body painfully aware of his presence. You sighed, drawing your knees up to your chest. The desire to give your brain a factory reset was becoming a desperate need, clawing away at your insides.

“You were talking about your training…” he mumbled, hoping that maybe a prompt will get you back to talking, rescuing him from this painful silence you had cast upon both of you.

“Hmm?”

You turned to face him, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Training?”

“Ah, right. Yeah. Trained with professional soldiers who were much more experienced than myself and hardly held back. Um… Then, I was put into what we call ‘packs’, task forces, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“The men who were part of our packs were hardly kind. I think… I think there was a culture among them, a contest to see who could be the absolute worst human possible. It was like…” You scratched your chin as you tried to find the words. “… It was like they defined themselves by their capacity to inflict violence.”

Ghost couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh through his nose. He looked down at the ground, his mind racing with questions and guilty accusations. That culture wasn’t unique to where you were from. That culture was everywhere and, as reluctant as he was to admit it, he knew he had partaken in that culture in some form. Then again, he was sure every guy had. He wondered if it was some unwritten rite of passage that you’d have to be violent in some capacity to put someone in their place. Violence was everywhere, especially in his life. His job pretty much boiled down to being violent.

Which was why he felt incredibly uncomfortable as you continued to speak about those godawful men.

“They liked making you feel small in any capacity. Even when they weren’t wanting to hurt you. My… overseer was very much like that. I sometimes questioned if he actually loved me like he said he did or if I was just a thing to him. Just another lamia to add to his collection.”

Like that growing pile of chess pieces on his side of the board.

“Overseer?” Ghost asked, hoping that redirecting the conversation to this man whom, he prayed you’d shit on to no end, would enable him to escape his own mental self-flagellation.

“Yeah, he was the man who I thought was special forces, remember? He raised me. I wouldn’t say he was a father to me per se, but he was close to that. He was terrifying.”

“How? I-If you don’t mind me asking.”

You smiled, something in you buzzing with delight in the way Ghost had checked if you were okay with answering.

“He was… hmm… this sounds crazy, but he was like royalty, a very powerful man. He was clever and experienced, and he knew how to make you like him because he pretended to respect you. However, if you pissed him off, or hit a particular nerve, he would be quick to remind you who he really was.”

“A dick pretty much.”

You chuckled.

“He was more than a dick, Ghost. He was a monster who hid it well, or maybe he didn’t, maybe he just desensitised us to his actual personality… I don’t know. Still, he was a terrible human being and I hate him.”

He chuckled, chuckled like he knew something… like he could relate. You looked up at him, anticipating elaboration, but either Ghost didn’t pick up on your curiosity or refused to acknowledge it.

Instead of giving in to that puppy-like nosiness you had on display pertaining to his remark, Ghost decided to question you some more.

“What exactly made you like a lamia? And… um, can I ask if the male soldiers were special in any way? Can I ask more about them?”

“Oh, well, for me I got a blood transfusion. They found a match and gave me a special type of blood that made me like the way I am. As for the men…”

Now, did you want to go into every itty-bitty detail about Arcadian Sons? Ghost could believe what you had to say about lamia abilities because he had witnessed them and, you supposed, they weren’t too far from being somewhat plausible… at least the superior strength you displayed, which you could argue was in the realm of possibility for the average human imagination. As for shapeshifting, bloodsucking monsters, well, you didn’t want Ghost to think you were making up tall tales.

Keep it tactical. Keep it minimal.

“… The men weren’t like us at all. Well, they were strong. Incredibly strong. Bought, though. They weren’t found and taken from a young age like us.”

“I see…”

Yup. You nodded to yourself. Love that for the Arcadian Sons… those heartless bastards. You wondered if you could ever take one on in a fight. That would be something!

“Now you’re out, Y/N. How do you feel?” he asked.

“Like shit. I want to feel good because look at me, I made it out but… I know the Foundation will be after me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over what happened to me while I was there.”

“You may never get over it, Y/N. But that doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

You cocked your head to one side, brow furrowing.

“It’s okay to not entirely recover but it doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

“I wonder if this was meant to happen if it’s…” You felt the tears coming back, your eyes tingling. “…given me character or something.”

Ghost laughed.

“Y/N, trauma doesn’t equate to character and let no one tell you otherwise. You’re not meant to go through pain, and it’s not meant to be character-building. Trust me, I know.”

You do?

Should you ask that aloud?

You felt your heart kick up a notch. You didn’t want to upset him, especially as you felt you had just recovered from nearly making him hate you with you barging in on him showering and then proceeding to threaten his manhood with a swift kick to the balls during that round of sparring.

Hmm.

“I just had a rough upbringing, Y/N. That’s all.”

The way he had said it sounded laboured like you had been pestering him for a while about it. You hadn’t though, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe you just had that look on your face. Nevertheless, you decided it was best to leave it at that.

“Oh… right.”

You gave a polite smile and awkwardly looked to the ground, unsure of how to continue this conversation.

He sighed and decided to make his body language more open, hoping that would prevent you from looking too sad. Swivelling round to face you more and making sure he looked as amicable as he could with that threatening skull of a mask, Ghost made an effort to speak with a gentler voice in the hopes you wouldn’t retreat into your shell.

“Do you want to talk more? You feeling better?”

You nodded.

“I do feel better, thanks. But, I mean, I could probably fill books with how much I want to talk about my time in the Foundation. About everything… It’s tiring though.”

As if on cue, you stretched your arms upwards and let out a great yawn.

“Bringing up baggage is tiring, but while you’re here, feel free to come and-”

He paused, watching you suddenly get up from your seat and lower yourself so that you were close to the ground. You took a few steps towards something amidst the soil, moving in a catlike manner: stopping, crouching, and then continuing to creep closer.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Shhh!”

“Y/N-”

Ghost would have the strangest shock of his life as you turned around and gave him an irritated hiss, only to then place a hand over your mouth, looking surprised yourself.

“Sorry! It’s a lamia habit of mine!”

He just looked at you. His eyes weren’t wide, but you could definitely tell he was taken aback. Much to your relief, he began to laugh.

“Laswell doesn’t hiss!”

“Does she not?”

The fact that was a genuine question only made Ghost’s confused laughter grow.

“No! She doesn’t?!”

“Weird,” you remarked, returning your attention to whatever you were investigating in the grass.

He rose from his seat, heading towards you.

“Weird? It’s weird not to hiss? Y/N, you really are full of-”

You raised your hand, causing him to stop in his tracks. Looking over your shoulder, Ghost squatted down beside you and beheld a… footprint?

He tilted his head to one side and reached forward to get a better look, only for you to bat his hand away.

“Y/N!” he scolded.

“You’ll damage it!”

“It’s a footprint. There’s plenty of ‘em around.”

“This one’s special.”

Was it? Ghost grimaced under his mask as he watched you lean in. The last thing he wanted to see was you sniffing at this like some tracking dog, which, luckily you didn’t do. Instead, you stroked your chin, examining every little detail on the imprint on the soil. It looked like it belonged to a standard combat boot, and you were sure you might find a few footprints around the base that would match this one.

You had a hunch that someone had just entered the Vaqueros’ base who wasn’t supposed to be there. Your pupils had dilated, eyes darting about, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you scoured for any other sign which confirmed your theory. Ghost watched you, both fascinated and also concerned, wondering if he should intervene.

“This doesn’t belong to someone we know,” you stated, rising to your feet and pointing at the footprint with an accusatory hand.

“Easy. It’s a footprint.”

Like the final gong of a church bell, you felt a sudden shift in your emotional state. Mild indignation set alight from old embers.

Easy. It’s a footprint. EaSy. It’S a FoOtPriNt.

It was how he said it: as if he knew better. However, Ghost didn’t know better, you did. He didn’t have your supernatural affinity for premonition, he wasn’t able to detect the slight change in the aura of the base behind you. Something told you that another mind had joined the collection of the ones you recognised. You began to grind your teeth together, instinct screaming from the back of your mind that you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t act.

“You’re no lamia, Ghost. You wouldn’t understand. I need to find Kate.”

You brushed past him, massaging your temples as you made your way back into the base.

Ghost’s shoulders slumped a little as he watched you disappear into the distance. Then, he turned around, hearing something amidst the bushes just yonder.

***

You let out a heavy sigh, head dropping downwards as Kate placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t sense anything, Y/N. I think you’re just a little rattled, which is understandable. Sometimes anxieties can flare up suddenly.”

You weren’t having her patronise you again and the bubbling anger slowly making itself known on your face told Kate that perhaps she should choose her next words carefully. She did so, gently removing her hand from you and looking you in the eye.

“If it’s any assurance, my contact said that you’ll be good to go within two days. Two more days and you’ll be on your way to proper freedom.”

“Two days of sitting idly by while the Foundation gets clos- AHHHH!” you said before your voice crescendo-ed into a loud groan.

You clutched your head, losing your balance. Laswell caught you in her arms, hushing you as you whimpered, your mind soaring with a strange pain. It was like a high-pitched sound, ringing inside your skull, a blaring siren telling you that something was terribly wrong. You gripped onto her tightly, doing your best to sort through the howling voices in your mind and find one which spoke reason. Except, the more you fixated on the feeling, the worse it grew.

That footprint. That blasted footprint!

You tried to picture it in your head, hoping there was a clue within the image of the memory.

“Steady, Y/N.”

Kate had you rest some of your weight onto her and helped you hobble into the barracks.

As soon as Gaz saw the sight of you barely being able to stand on your feet, even with the aid of Kate, he rose up and made his way to you.

“Are they okay?” Gaz asked, helping Kate ease you onto a bed.

“I think they’re just a bit overstimulated. Happens sometimes. There’s a lot of people in this base,” Kate explained, feeling your forehead.

Your temperature was fine, despite your slightly feverish behaviour. You turned around and buried your face into your pillow, trying to focus on the distant echo of that foreign soul, praying that the redirection of your attention would be enough to drown out the cacophony wreaking havoc within your head.

“Someone’s in this base…”

“Y/N…”

“Someone is in this base!” you shouted, despite your voice being muffled by the pillow.

“What do they mean by that?” Gaz asked.

Kate let out an exasperated sigh, “They think someone’s here that’s not meant to be here but that’s… impossible.”

“What if they’re right?”

“I would know too.”

Kate, you’re out of practice. I’m fresh out of the Foundation. My senses are much better than yours.

You wouldn’t say it aloud, for fear of causing offence but despite that, you stuck to your guns. She may not have been convinced but you knew better.

Even if it may eventually be to your detriment, you were not sleeping tonight.

***

Ghost turned the faucet and flinched a little as a shock of cold water splashed him square in the face. He ran his hands through his wet hair, adjusting to the warming temperature, and a content sigh escaped his lips. While he lathered up some soap in his hands, he thought about you.

As he had walked past the barracks, he had seen you on your bed, lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling. You had your hands on your belly as you idly chewed on the inside of your cheek. It looked like you had calmed down from your little panic over the footprint, although he could still tell, even at the distance he was at, that something was bothering you. Your chest rose and fell quickly, your eyes wide and alert. Though he was careful to not catch your attention, he had a feeling you knew he was there, or at least nearby. Going from zero to a hundred like that, he wondered how you could cope with it, and he hoped it wasn’t a habit of yours. All from a fucking footprint. Yes, you probably could sense something with your… lamia-ness, but he had overheard Kate say something about overstimulation and upon hearing that, all the pieces fit together.

You probably weren’t used to being in an army base with all of them, all of these new people, and that only added to the pile you already had on your plate.

A pang of guilt struck him as he washed off the soap from his body.

Maybe he had been too dismissive. He could tell you had gotten annoyed by him trying to calm you down before you spiralled but he was just doing what he thought best.  You were skittish, easy to agitate, and you needed to be settled down before you’d go off on one. Right? He was helping you!

Well, he thought he was.

The steam made the air in the bathroom heavy… or maybe it was just him?

He didn’t know why, but, all of a sudden, he was feeling a little claustrophobic. Ghost shrunk away a little, almost hiding under the water, wondering if your bout of paranoia had rubbed off on him.

Eventually, the lieutenant finished up his shower, got dressed and was brushing his teeth over the sink. Briefly, he looked up at the mirror.

A shiver, like none he had ever felt ran through him.

Primal fear, triggered by pure incomprehension, made his skin grow clammy and his heart speed up.

Before his very eyes, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley watched a handprint form on the foggy mirror. A disembodied handprint.

Quickly, he turned around, only to see nothing.

Something gently touched his neck.

Breath.

Ghost took the toothbrush out of his mouth and set it on the porcelain sink. Then, he searched around the empty bathroom, albeit a little frantically. He peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the shower unit.

If someone was playing a little prank, he was going to hunt that person down and give them more than an earful on how that was a stupid thing to do.

However, it would turn out to be empty.

Returning to the sink, he let out a sigh.

Jesus, Simon. Get a hold of yourself.

Resting his hands on the edges of the sink, he looked back up at the mirror. The handprint was still there, and in the patches of clarity that made up the palm, where the fogginess had been removed, Ghost spotted that the lock on the door had been undone.

But didn’t he… He could have sworn…

He returned to the barracks, towels and soaps in hand, making his way to his rucksack. As he knelt down before his bed, he looked to his side and caught your eye. You gave a polite smile, before rolling onto your side, turning away from him.

“You alright?” he asked as he packed his stuff away.

“I think I should be asking you that question. You seem rattled,” you replied, your voice monotone.

He looked back up at you, brows knitted together.

“Are you… Are you doing your ‘lamia’ thing?”

“Someone was in the bathroom, weren’t they?”

“Please, don’t fuel my paranoia,” Ghost said, getting up and heading elsewhere to find Soap and maybe a box of raisins.

[annieontheside]

BUDDIE FICS RECS: ONE CHAPTER EDITION

hey, I'm back. i'm procrastinating the last part of my assignment so here are my recommendations for this weekend! hope you have a good time reading these:

Only Child of the Universe (Until I Found You). By: HMSLusitania. we all need Eddie with a cat. he’s SO a dad cat. we all can see it. this is perfect. it has a lot of fluff (not the cat, the fanfic), and buddie getting together. take it or leave it (take it, it’s the best decision you will take today). https://archiveofourown.org/works/33544489

This Earth is Burned But I’ll Sing Rain. By: HMSLusitania. oh boy. guess what. buck is injured (*people groan*). and eddie is sad and desperate because his boy is in a coma!! it’s 50% angst and 50% fluff. totally something to read while you wait for your taxi, or while you wait for the noodles to cook, or while you ignore all the college assignments you have to do! https://archiveofourown.org/works/39288816

Why can’t I Breathe whenever I think About You? By: HMSLusitania. God you have no idea how much I laughed while reading this. is short but it seriously will make your day. it’s just buck and eddie being the oblivious idiots they are. I love them so much. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39667098

Wait For It. By: oliviacirce. uhu. my god. basically: porn. but it’s more than that because we also have buddie realizing their feelings, which is always welcome if it comes with the hand of smut, orgasm denial and a lot of other things that buddie SHOULD look into but they refuse to because they’re idiots! anyway, enjoy it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/48469546

my evergreen. By: colonoscopys. oh my god another girl dad buddie! how did you get in here? ANYWAY in this one, we have domestic fluff (hell yeah), we have buddie pining AND realizing their feelings (slowly, reaaaaally slowly. so slow snails laugh in their faces. but its worthy). https://archiveofourown.org/works/38870445

keep my brittle heart warm (give me peace). By: extasiswings. girl dad buddie? anyone? does anyone want any girl dad buddie? awesome because this is IT. you’ll seriously die of cuteness with it. we have fluff, angst (a bit), eddie rethinking everything about being a dad and a son (because obviously). it’s a good read, actually. really nice. https://archiveofourown.org/works/32860312

No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft. By: justhockey. oh boy. chris will be the dead of buck and we all know it. just a bit of overhearing conversations and chris being three steps ahead of both buck and eddie. we all love buck and no one is allowed to not love him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/46444471

opened our eyes and it’s changing the view. By: markofalover. you know how i said chris is three steps ahead of buddie? yeah that also applies here. basically chris writes a poem for school and makes two grown ass men cry. and me, he made me cry. https://archiveofourown.org/works/37337218

I know you’re hurting (but so am I). By justhockey. I’m a WHORE for protective Eddie. And after reading this, so will you. A sneak peek:  “...But let me be very clear about this: if you ever lay a hand on him again, me and you are gonna have some problems, Chim.” https://archiveofourown.org/works/34457893

[justice-is-a-weapon]

In vino veritas [Dazai x gn reader]

·•━━━━━━━⋆⋅☆⋅⋆━━━━━━━•·

Chapter 9 / ?

previous | next

TW: like one suicide joke from Dazai

Me and Dazai began to grow closer throughout the following weeks. We began to meet or text almost every day, even if it was just for an hour or two. I felt truly happy in Japan. Maybe this would be the place I finally began to settle, having been a wanderer for such a long time.

As we walked the streets of Yokohama I began to lose myself in his words. He had completely bewitched me, my body and soul. He was far too interesting for his own good. I knew that I should keep my distance. That was what my whole life had been about after all. But he? He made it way too difficult for me to do so. I had begun to accept that I had grown fond of him by now. I had grown closer to Dazai and I thought he probably did too, never letting me fully see inside his mind but having me understand his certain quirks. He made an effort to have me understand him just a little bit yet not too much. So I felt like he wanted to let me in, have me closer. Especially now that our shoulders were touching, cramped under my black umbrella. It was raining cats and dogs, yet we had decided to go for our nightly stroll around the town.

We reached an alcove for shelter at some point.

“Ah fuck me. My bandages are all wet.”

I laughed at that.

“I think I might have some toilet paper left at home. You could use that. Wouldn’t look any different.”

He gave me a sour but playful look. Then he began to smirk.

Oh? OH.

Then he pushed me. Right into the rain. I had tried to keep myself dry with the umbrella the whole way here but now my hair clung to my face, wet just like my clothes. I shook my head in disappointment.

“You’re a manchild Dazai.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Nah… I’m just being fair and you are just being boring.”

I took a step forward, now standing directly in front of him but still in the rain. I looked him directly in the eyes.

“Boring?”

He leaned forward, then whispered.

“Yes.”

At that I quickly grabbed him by the hand and pulled. He began to stumble forward. Into the rain with me. His already dark brown hair was becoming even darker with the rain pouring onto it and lost part of its previous fluffyness. He had to move it out of his face with his hands.

“You son of a-“

He looked at me.

“Oh I’m gonna get you good for that!”

Dazai charged at me and I began to run. The few passerbys looked rather confused watching us goofing around and chasing each other through the rain.

Panting, we stopped at some point. The rain had slowly begun to clear up, now only being reduced to a drizzle. It had become quite late.

Dazai asked for the time. After I told him he began to speak.

“I’ve got to go now I’m afraid. Can’t have Kunikida ripping my head off. I want to do that myself. Maybe I could use-“

“Dazai. Not now.”

“Alright, alright… But yeah I have to go. Another case, y’know? Apparently a bigger thing. Something mafia related. So I won’t be getting any sleep today I guess.”

“Ah yes, the sleepless nights of Detective Dazai.”

He had to smirk at that.

“You’re the only one who calls me that.”

"Oh, am I?"

“Yes and I’m not quite sure if I like that.”

I gave a small huff.

“So what shall I call you? What title does our dear Dazai long for?”

“Ideally, I would wish to call myself ‘a good man’ someday.”

I looked at his face. There was a hint of sincerity in his eyes. Although he tried to hide it behind a sly smirk. I had a feeling being “a good man” held much more meaning to him than he’d like the world to know. He tried to have me forget this previous sentence by continuing.

“But Dazai Osamu works as well I guess.”

“Your first name is Osamu?”

“Yeah yeah, quite basic I know.”

“Well I’m German so not really basic to me. If you were you’d be named Paul. Or Jonas. Or ew you could be a Jakob.” I shuddered at the thought “Imagine your name would be Jakob.”

This made Dazai laugh. I loved Dazai’s laugh. At least when it was a sincere one. It made me believe I was doing something right for once. So now it had kind of become my personal mission to hear and make him cackle as often as possible.

We were interrupted by his phone making a noise, telling him it was time to go. He looked at me again. There was something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. But I was content with this. I was happy and looking at him, he was too. That was all that mattered to me.

Dazai then took a glance to the side before speaking.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave?”

It came out as more of a question.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I don’t want to go if I’m being honest.”

“I know. But they’ll be needing you.”

I gave a sigh feeling a soft smile forming on my lips.

“And you can bet that I’ll be waiting for you and greet you with open arms once you come back.”

“Would I also be greeted with open arms now?”

Yes. You would. I got what he was probably hinting at. So I opened my arms. I didn’t know when I last hugged someone before but getting to hug Dazai felt great. Yes, he may have been still wet from the rain and we were both a bit awkward at first, not knowing where to place our hands and generally the hug didn’t last long at all, but it felt comforting. Dazai smiled afterwards.

“Bye Ophelia.”

“See you around Dazai.”

With that he turned around and left. I decided to shout after him one last time.

“Don’t catch a cold and be careful! You hear me?”

A shout from him came back.

“Yep! Will do!”

I got home with a smile on my face that day.

What I did not know however:

I would end up not seeing Dazai for two and a half months after that.

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[Hello hello! We’re going the angsty route from now on. At least for a little bit. Enjoy this last bit of fluff you got this chapter. I have the next chapter written out already so it won’t take that long. I’ll probably upload it in a week. Also please tell me you got that dark era reference. Fun fact: while searching for the ao3 chapter title “Don’t Leave Me Now” by Supertramp was playing (I was looking through some of my old vinyls at the time) and I thought “Yep that’s it. That’s the title.”]

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: part 11!

x

The von Gikkingen estate was a tad more modest than Haru had perhaps been expecting. It was a grand house, to be sure, far grander than the place Haru had grown up in, and boasted a well-tended front lawn, but the majority of the land was under the management of a farmstead. There were chicken coops, rabbit hutches, and mice pens, while the rest was put aside for crops.

It had a decidedly rural feel to it.

It was also, and this was a first for Haru in the Cat Kingdom, threatening to rain. She stared up at the rapidly-darkening clouds and regretted her wardrobe choices.

"You get rain here?" she asked.

"Unfortunately," Baron replied. He was scowling at the sky, although there seemed to be more than just inconvenience in his gaze. "The capital employs a great many wards in place to ensure fine weather, but out here we're not so lucky."

The rabbit-drawn carriage lolloped to a halt at the entrance. Up close, the house still looked grand, although it was tired in a way fresh coats of paint had failed to hide.

Haru had been so distracted, that she'd not noticed Baron stepping out of the carriage. He stood in the doorway now, gloved hand offered to her. "Ready?" he asked.

"Not even a little bit," she replied, and took his hand.

Upon knocking at the double doors of the house, there was a decided sort of kerfuffle sound on the other side. It sounded like multiple pairs of feet shuffling to claim prominent position in the doorway.

This impression was solidified when said door opened and Haru was greeted by no fewer than five faces.

Haru took a step back and bumped into Muta.

"Humbert!" The only female Cat (of who Haru could see, anyway) surged forward and embraced Baron in a non-negotiable embrace. She was a good head shorter than Baron, had striped-tabby fur and, by the way the other Cats parted for her, evidently possessed some considerable authority.

"Mother," Baron wheezed.

"What in Bastet's name are you doing getting yourself married and only telling your dear old mother after the fact?" she scolded. "And then to hear the news second-hand, of all things."

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mother."

"And this must be the lucky lady." Baron's mother released her son and turned to Haru, who braced herself for a similar – if not harsher – rebuking. However, the Cat only smiled and offered a gentle hug. "Elora von Gikkingen, my dear. You must excuse my son's manners; we would have loved to meet you far sooner than this, had we known about your engagement."

"Yes, how long was the engagement?" asked another Cat who, by his age and stark resemblance to Baron, Haru guessed to be her new father-in-law.

"It was," and Baron glanced to Haru as he spoke, "somewhat a whirlwind romance."

"Oh," said his father. He looked much alike to his son, both in height and bearing, and the only main difference was his dark fur (shot through with the beginning of grey) and the spectacles perched on his muzzle. He fiddled with the bridge of his glasses; they didn't seem to be in need of adjusting, so much as were something to preoccupy his hands with. "Oh," he repeated, "I wasn't aware it was that kind of a situation." Before Haru could ask just what kind of situation that was, the Cat offered a hand. "I'm Edmund, Humbert's father. I must say, I've always rather liked the idea of being a grandfather, but I hadn't quite expected it this suddenly."

Baron and Haru simultaneously figured out exactly what kind of situation that was.

"Father! That's not why–"

"Oh, Bastet, I'm not–"