#she is indeed the GOAT for that statement

[kaisertheadvisor]

Indeed, Makoto is the third wheel in the relationship between these two lesbians.

[bekaroth-reads]

Winter Morgott x Reader

[Its been too long since I wrote something for him! This is sort of based on how a bunch of people think that his fur might fluff out a bit more in the winter]

Morgott hated the cold. It brought ice and snow which made walking precarious and a biting chill that made his bones ache. The one thing that he didn’t mind the winter bringing was less Tarnished, at least most of them. Many people were too busy trying to keep themselves from freezing to train or challenge the Lords. There was one that he had let come into his city on multiple occasions, to the point that the people of the Capitol didn’t think of them being there than anything other than another tourist. This was certainly an odd arrangement for him, even though he was the one that allowed it. Morgott was at his wit’s end as far as the deluge of invading Tarnished were concerned, so when you came along and truly seemed to want to find a way to put an end to this whole cycle of fighting, he was willing to let you study your findings and theories in the many libraries in the castle. Better to have a tarnished reading quietly in the other room than trying to best him at the foot of the Erdtree.

It had been about a month since he had seen you though, so there might be a chance that you either found somewhere else to study, or, more likely, were stuck in some dark dungeon possibly losing your will to continue. Morgott couldn’t place why, but there was something about that last thought that didn’t sit very well with him. It was like when you have a mouse scurrying around, and once it gets caught in a trap, you knew it was was its fate as a pest, but you still feel at least a bit sorry for it. Brushing this thought aside, Morgott started to roam the castle grounds once more in an effort to complete his duties despite the aching of his joints and the burning of his feet from walking on the snow.

Once he got close to the library that you used to be found at the most, he heard someone crunching their way through the snow, and then followed shortly by laughter. Turing around he saw that it was indeed you standing behind him. “My Lord Morgott, I had no idea that you allowed your hair to grow so thick during the winter.” He responded with a sour look and corrected. “‘Tis an occurrence that happens whether I allow it or not. However, I hardly see how the finer details of my anatomy are any concern of thine.” Morgott grumbled as he ambled his way over to you. You took notice on how he seemed to move a bit more labored than usual, but could tell that he was already on edge from the last remark that you made leading you not to mention it. Instead, you explained your original statement. “Oh, I suppose not. It’s just that on my way up here, I passed a child in the streets. She was insisting to her mother that when she looked into the castle courtyard, she saw a giant, white rune bear with horns like a goat. Seems like I found my explanation for such a tall tale.”

Morgott rolled his eye at the thought. Turning with a groan more audible than he was intending, Morgott went to return to his rounds of the castle grounds giving the warning, “Be sure to keep thy person in the library. I cannot be responsible for what happens if thou art inclined to wander.” This was nothing new; in fact you heard it every time that you were here. What was different was what followed. Before he could even take a step, he felt you grab his unoccupied hand. Whatever gumption you had to grab his hand wavered greatly when he turned to glower at you, but you pushed through and carried on. “Perhaps, my lord, you should step inside for a few moments as well?” You offered. Morgott could honestly admit that he never thought the brazen nature of Tarnished would extend this far, and was actually taken a bit aback by the offer. “And, why would such a thing be necessary? As thou hast said, I seem to be more than equipped to handle the elements.” In a perfect display of his thoughts on the overstepping nature of the Tarnished, you actually had the gall to try to pull him by the hand toward the door of the library. “You might be better equipped than most people, but that still doesn’t mean you’re completely immune.” When there was still some hesitance from him, you insisted, “Come on. The Erdtree isn’t going to run away while you’re gone.”

With that, Morgott silently relented and followed. It was because he didn’t trust you after you were being so persistent, he insisted to himself. And, he also thought that if he was going to be in here for a while, then he might as well sit by the fireplace. Not because he was extraordinarily cold, the extra hair on his body that helped keep him warm also made it easier for him to stay damp; that old, tattered cloak of his doing little against the wind expect flow with it. It was this was the best place to keep an eye on you as it was fairly well in the center. You noticed that the nodding head on top of, as that little girl said, the giant, horned rune bear would flick up to watch you every time you moved to a different shelf. Seeing as the simple act of sitting was enough to make him start to doze off, you figured he needed the sleep. So, to make that a bit easier for him, you grabbed a few books that you thought would help you with the part of the Lands Between you were studying and sat close to where he was. With you being still, there was nothing keeping him from drifting off to sleep.

After awhile, you went to wake him. You thought he needed the rest, but knew that he would be upset if he was to be asleep for too long. When you did, all that he did was stretch a bit before moving himself to lay his weary bones properly on the floor in front of the fireplace; grabbing you and pulling you down with him as he held you tightly. It was because if he was going to fall asleep, something he felt like he couldn’t fight off any longer, then he needed to be sure that you weren’t going to go get into trouble, he insisted to himself. It was not because you were becoming a source of comfort for him.

[upper-moon-4askblog]

Calm down Sekido I’m not actually interested in kissing you (or kissing in general💔) how you enjoying the rage room so far anyways?

And Urogi, Aizetsu, is it fun to watch Sekido wreck stuff while screaming? (he reminds me of a goat for this very reason)

How are Ishimaki and Karaku in disneyland?

— "AHH!!! IT'S UNBEARABLE!!"

He shouts with fury, his face contorted in anger.

— "…I HATE EVERY MOMENT I SPEND IN THIS ROOM!!

His shouts reverberate through the room, his eyes glaring with nothing but pure rage towards you.

Urogi chuckles lightly and nods.

— "We do love a good show while eating popcorn~"

He says with a teasing smile.

— "We see Sekido's violent outbursts almost as.. our entertainment~"

He makes a 'eating popcorn' motion with his hands.

— "And he sure does provide that entertainment quite well~"

He says with a smug smile.

Aizetsu grins widely and nods in agreement.

— "Indeed, there is no lie in that statement~"

He seems amused, but he stops when he hears the distinct sound of Sekido's footsteps walking toward them.

— "I think it's best we stop talking so much now, for our safety~"

He says, glancing over at Sekido.

Ishimaki and Karaku were enjoying themselves at Disneyland. They were on a roller coaster, smiling and laughing. The child demon was screaming out of excitement and fear. But she enjoyed it, nonetheless.

There was so much stuff to do, and so much to see. They got to enjoy their time and had fun. This was the first time the child went this far from home. In a sense, the day was like a dream come true for her.

[sirtwentyofhousegoodmen]

If you're doing prompts then I'd love to see what Arcturus reaction was to Lucretia being born

February 12th, 1925

The sound of a wail of pain punctured through the tense silence that had settled over the drawing room of Grimmauld Place.

“Your grandmother didn’t make nearly as big a fuss as that slip of a wife of yours when she gave birth to my children,” groused his grandfather Phineas Nigellus, though, like so many of his rejoinders in the past few months, it lacked any real bite to it. The half-blind, knock-kneed, rather frail man sat on the divan across from him was a shadow of the dignified, intimidating headmaster he’d been not three years ago.

Seventy-five was rather young for a Wizard to get so sick—but he supposed with his youngest son’s death and his eldest’s dipsomania, it was only a matter of time before all the stress got to the old goat and he keeled over.

“Melania is of a more delicate disposition than mother,” his father said, oddly sober. Arcturus supposed once he’d got the news that Phineas Nigellus would grace them all with his presence he cleaned out his liquor cabinet in anticipation.

At least something was enough to get him to look up from the bottle.

“Delicate,” Phineas Nigellus wheezed out, shaking his head in something most likely meant to convey his contempt for the word. “Weak, more like.” He turned his milky eyes over to Arcturus. “Pray she handles the stress of it better than your mother did, boy.”

“Father,” The heir to the Black family, rather than defend the memory of his wife, merely screwed his face up as if he were in pain.

Arcturus glared at his grandfather, hotly. “My mother did her duty and gave my father two sons.”

“Yes,” Phineas Nigellus took a puff from his cigar, following it with a shaky sip of brandy. “And only one of them is of any use to us—with only a girl to show for it. Duty, indeed.”

Regulus shifted uncomfortably, swirling around his drink in his goblet.

“Father, can we not have a day of peace?” His Uncle Arcturus spoke up from his seat on the chaise, eyes focused on his lit cigar, as if putting it through some sort of imaginary test. “Daughter or not, this is a joyous occasion—another addition to the House of Black.”

“Pah, of course you’d think that. It’s not another addition, you clod, it’s another girl.” Phineas Nigellus grunted out, and his second son—who’d only given him granddaughters—clenched his jaw in anger but remained quiet. “And in a month, Pollux is going to give us another. Four sons, four bloody sons I gave your mother—and what do they give me in turn? Two brides for another man’s son to carry on his name—and no one to carry on mine.”

“Arcturus has all girls, Cygnus gives me a dolt and a squib, and Sirius an impudent wretch and a pansy.”Phineas Nigellus shook his head, looking so very tired, then heaved out a rattling sigh. “If only my father could see what’s become of this family.”

Before he could turn around from his spot standing at the fireplace, a sharp retort for his corpse of a grandfather fresh in his mind, the double doors of the drawing room burst open, and Lycoris—hair slightly undone and her dress a wrinkled mess—stepped inside, reflexively scrunching up her nose at the pungent odor of tobacco and brandy.

All the sons of Phineas Nigellus, who had been weathering their father’s sputtering outbursts of contempt with quiet dignity, stood up from their seats, save the old man himself who merely lifted his head as if to hear better.

"It’s as the healer said: A girl, Archie," Lycoris said, beaming. "Red-cheeked and healthy.”

All the men in the room turned to offer their congratulations to Arcturus.

“A girl,” His father said, his eyes glimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite decipher. “You’re a father now, Archie.”

Arcturus nodded, not quite believing the fact himself. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Father grabbed hold of his hand tightly, and he flinched at the touch. “You’ll be better than I was, won’t you?”

The question took him by surprise, and for a moment he could do nothing but stare back, dumbly. Finally, he settled for another, albeit more terse nod. The rest went unspoken between the two of them—for what else was there to say?

His uncle Arcturus came up to him next, unusually jovial. “Congratulations are in order, my boy,” He sighed, then shook his head. “In a better world, that child might have been my granddaughter,” his eyes glazed over in that way they always did when he spoke of Cedrella. For all the man’s insistence he wanted nothing to do with the daughter that had run off with a blood-traitor, he did a terrible job of keeping the longing from his voice when mentioning her. “But, either way—a new Black is cause for celebration, and she’s still my blood. A word of advice, if you would, nephew?”

He leaned in closer. “Daughters are hell.” His smile turned rueful. “Cherish them while they’re with you, for you’ll miss them to your bones later on.”

Arcturus gave him a bland smile, silently noting the advice, though he was sure he’d forgotten it almost as soon as it was said. Uncle Cygnus’s congratulations—as well as grandfather’s begrudging words of commendation—too, became blurred and indistinguishable from each other. The only coherent thought in his head at the moment was the fact that there was a daughter waiting for him upstairs. His daughter.

He’d never given much thought to actually having a child. Of course, he knew what his duty was, and that one day he would be expected to further the Black line, but the idea was always rather abstract. Now—with a real child...

For the first time in his life he was at a loss.

After a few more felicitations—along with a rather loud toast from a plastered Regulus, who’d resorted to drinking away the stress of sitting next to grandfather—Arcturus made his way up to the rooms Melania had been locked away in for the last five hours.

Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of his wife, a tightly wrapped and rather fussy bundle laid atop her chest.

Melania looked up at him in the doorway, and gave him one of those shy smiles of hers, and he froze.

She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Hello,” She whispered, voice obviously spent after five hours of screaming.

“Hi,” he said back, awkwardly balancing from one foot to another. Why on earth was he acting like some hormone-fueled fourth-year?

Warily, he approached, and as he got closer to the bed he could see a soft tuft of black hair emerge from underneath the bundle.

Melania shifted on the bed in order to allow him some room, and he sat down on the edge. He couldn’t help but think that this was the closest they’d ever been, marital duties aside.

“She looks like you,” Melania said, after some minutes had passed in silence.

Arcturus, still in shock, peeked over and saw two pairs of gray eyes identical to his looking up at him.

“She has my coloring,” He corrected her, clearing his throat, which had become rather closed up. “She has your face, however. Just as beautiful as her mother.”

Melania blushed—Arcturus had called her beautiful many times, but it always came across as a statement of fact rather than out of any affection. This time, however, his voice was tender—or as close to tender as he got.

“Have you given her a name?”

Melania shook her head. “I thought it only proper to wait for you, to see if you had a particular suggestion.”

Arcturus smiled at the typically dutiful reply, and was even moved enough to grace his young wife with a light kiss to her crown, much to her surprise.

“What was that for?” She asked, eyes darting about the damask coverlet, shyly. It occurred to him that for all she was a wife and mother now, she was still a nineteen year old, with all the flights and fancies of pureblood women her age. His own mother had given birth to him at that age—and it struck him then that in three short years he would be older than Hesper Black had ever or will ever be.

How odd it was—to outlive someone who seemed so immortal in his own memory. Odder still, thinking about death when in the presence of new life.

“I can’t repay you for all you’ve given me,” Arcturus said, voice softer than it had ever been. “I—I—I,” he cleared his throat, harshly. “There has never been a more loyal, nor more dutiful wife, madam.”

The smile she gave him this time was even bigger, and he found himself returning it.

Arcturus turned back to the girl, his girl, only to find her tiny, doll-like hands tugging fruitlessly at his sleeve. He chuckled warmly at the sight.

“My, look at her—this one will cause us some trouble.”

Melania sighed, fond exasperation writ across her face. “I can already tell.”

“Lucretia,” he said, after a moment. Melania blinked up at him. “It was my great-grandmother’s name—a rather rare name, as far as concerns our family, but hopefully the added sentimental streak will finally get the old bastard to approve of something I do.”

Melania nodded, then looked back at their daughter, beaming with pride. “Lucretia,” she said, resolutely. “Lucretia Lycoris Black.”

Arcturus snorted. “How long did it take for my sister to bully you into that one?”

Melania flushed a deep scarlet, then began mumbling feebly in defense: “It was not—she was a great help during the birth—“

Rolling his eyes, he cut her off: “Don’t get yourself into a state, we won’t be disappointing Lycoris today. Lucretia Lycoris Black. It’s perfect.”

He looked back down at his daughter, into those eyes that were all guilelessness and innocence and hope, as well as a not insignificant amount of trust. It reminded him of the way Lycoris and Regulus would look up to him during their childhood—but more.

So much more.

“She’s perfect.”

[ejzah]

A/N: I suggested this premise some time ago and then a few people asked for me to write it. I don’t think I did yet, so here you go.

***

It’s For Charity

“What’s this?” Callen asked, frowning at the package Nell plopped on his desk. She tossed one each to Deeks and Sam before replying,

“They’re your costumes.”

“Costumes for what?”

“Stripping, I’d guess,” Kensi said as Deeks opened his box and revealed a pair of exceedingly small boxers. “Where can we get a pair of those?”

“Actually the costumes are for a photo shoot,” Nell inserted.

“Photo shoot.” Sam eyed his box warily. “I didn’t sign up for anything.”

“True, but I did send you an email to opt out a few weeks ago. None of you replied, so I took that as consent.” Deeks narrowed his eyes at Nell, suspecting that said email had contained a misleading subject line.

“Seriously, Nell,” he said, shaking a pair of skinny jeans that didn’t appear to have a matching top. “What are you up to?”

“You are modeling for the Federal Law Enforcement Calendar: NCIS Edition,” Nell informed them casually.

“Oh hell no,” Callen said immediately as Kensi snorted and clapped her hands together.

“This is going to be amazing,” she cackled.

“Yeah, don’t get too excited because this-” Deeks gestured to the collection of jean and leather clothing-“is not happening.”

“Afraid it is, Shaggy. You didn’t opt out.”

“Well, I’m choosing to do so now.”

“Too late,” Nell said, checking her watch. “The photography crew is scheduled to arrive in 2 hours. You wouldn’t want to have them come out here for nothing.”

“I would have zero qualms,” Sam said, sounding completely sincere.

“Plus, all the proceeds go to charity, so if you don’t participate, some kids are going to be doing without this year,” she added.

“You are evil,” Deeks hissed.

“This is going to be amazing,” Kensi whispered gleefully.

***

“Somehow this is even worse than I imagined,” Callen said in a vaguely horrified voice.

“Oh c’mon, this isn’t not that bad,” Deeks disagreed. At the very least they were past the underwear portion of the shoot, which Deeks planned to block out with copious amount of tequila. Now they wore matching jeans, sans shirt and shoes.

With a sternness that reminded Deeks of Hetty, Nell had ordered them around until they were posed next to each other, thumbs tucked into the waistband of their tiny shorts. For some reason she’d also made Deeks dangle a pair of handcuffs invitingly while he stared into the camera.

Kensi sat off to the side, sipping at a latte, while she made unhelpful comments.

“At least we get to hang out with cute animals,” Deeks continued, cuddling a baby goat in one hand and a kitten in the other.

“Speak for yourself,” Callen muttered darkly, grimacing at the horse he was currently leaning against. On Deeks’ other side, Sam stood perfectly straight while he tracked Nell’s movement with a stony expression. It was at perfect odds with the two chicks perched on each of his shoulders.

Deeks was seriously considering getting a copy just for sheer joy it would bring.

“Alright boys, smolder time,” Nell ordered, peering over the camerawoman’s shoulder. “Sam, I said smolder not glare.” A few more flashes went off and then she nodded in approval. “Much better. That’s a wrap for the goat, horse, and chicks.”

“Thank god,” Sam said earnestly. They all moved to leave once they were released of the animals, but Nell quickly put her hand up in a halting gesture.

“Oh, don’t think you’re getting off so easy. Now it’s time to get some booty shots. Turn around, gentleman.”

“Seriously, Nell?” Callen complained, tugging at the front of his skin tight jeans. “We’ve be doing this for hours. How many pictures do you need?”

“Be glad I didn’t order mesh body suits,” she threatened pleasantly. “Melissa, bring out the puppies!”

“You guys look adorable,” Kensi teased once they were each holding two puppies.

“Indeed.” Nell looked them over with a calculating smile. “I have a hunch this calendar is going to be a bestseller.”

“I’d like to make an advanced order for 10 copies.” Deeks frowned at Kensi’s statement and she shrugged innocently. “You know, for the children.”

“I wish I were dead,” Sam said fervently, while trying to extricate one of the puppies from the top of his head.

***

A/N: I may have chosen inspiration from the Australian fireman calendar.

[hiddendreamer67]

A Slippery Slope pt. 1

Summary: Logan, a graduate student studying the local ecosystem, discovers that the mystical creature populations are dwindling. He proposes a new theory, of a creature larger than life hiding out in the forest. Logan searches the forest for the beast, forgetting one important detail- in order to find a dangerous apex predator, the predator has to find you. 

(Also quick credit- I’ve been brainstorming this world with the wonderful @delimeful who suggested the initial idea. :D )

Check out more of my work at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Logan stared at his notes, running a hand through his hair distractedly as he looked over the numbers he had practically memorized. “It doesn’t make sense.” He murmured, blinking suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “Or perhaps… it makes perfect sense.”

“What are you on about, Sanders?” His mentor asked, glancing up from his own research work.

“Sir, I’ve been going over the numbers of harpy populations again.” Logan explained, looking up as he tried to work out the logistics of his new theory. “It doesn’t add up. Based on the observations of subjects in captivity, their lifespan is averaged to be fifty years. With the birth expectancy rate being what it is, and conditions being optimal the past few decades, the population should be twice its actual size, if not more.”

“So I take it the Chimeras have been busy.” His mentor shrugged, both of them sharing a brief grim look. Chimeras were awful beasts that dominated the surrounding forests, giant monsters with a lion’s head, goat’s body, and snake tail. They were known for breathing fire and decimating clearings, feasting on whatever creature was foolish enough to cross its path. 

“That’s where the anomaly occurs.” Logan adjusted his glasses, pulling together his papers. “The evidence of Chimeras in the area has… decreased.”

“Migrated elsewhere?” 

Logan shook his head at the suggestion. “No, evidence has not appeared in any of the surrounding areas. In fact, based on the reports from various rangers, there’s even evidence of deceased Chimeras, in the form of discarded partial remains.”

His mentor hummed, considering this new information. “So then, what, the Chimeras are growing territorial? Beating each other up?”

“The chances of such behavior being the case are infinitesimal.” Logan negated. “Chimeras are known to welcome pack tactics. Even with the decrease in harpy populations there are plenty of other sources of food in the area so as not to necessitate violence over resources, and certainly no reason to resort to cannibalism.”

“Cannibalism?” The mentor’s eyebrows raised.

“Why else would a whole corpse not be discarded?” Logan supported his statement. “These reports indicate only small portions of the Chimera’s structure being left behind. In several accounts the horns were discovered, as well as the snake tail looking as though it were severed.”

“Hmm.” His mentor slowly turned in his chair, facing Logan head on. “So you have a theory then?”

“I do.” Logan nodded, taking a moment to straighten up. He took a deep breath. “I believe there’s a larger apex predator hunting them.”

Unsurprisingly, his mentor looked at him in disbelief. “What? What do ya mean, you think there’s something bigger than a Chimera? How the hell would we miss something like that?”

“I have no idea.” Logan admitted. “Perhaps it is new to the area, or especially skilled at camouflage. It’s exceptionally possible that there have been previous fatal encounters chalked up to be caused by one of the other several dangers of the forest. But regardless, all the evidence points to-”

“To a disease.” His mentor cut him off. “The Chimera’s likely developed some virus that’s working through their system and driving ‘em all mad. It would explain their behavior and is more plausible than a giant man eating beast nobody’s seen.”

Logan pursed his lips, never a fan of being told he was wrong. 

“Look, Logan, you’re a smart kid.” His mentor explained gently, hitting another one of Logan’s buttons by calling him a child. “I think this research of yours is really admirable, it’ll make a fine thesis. You’re really onto something here. But don’t go blowing it by hypothesizing outside the realm of reality.”

Logan did not deign him with a response, appearing a bit huffy as he began to pack up his papers. It almost appeared he was a pouting child, if not for his business attire indicating his seriousness.

“I don’t want to discourage you.” His mentor continued. “This is truly remarkable! If you could discover the disease that’s infecting the Chimera population, your research would be published for certain. I can help you gain the necessary resources, it may be difficult to gain access to live samples but until then I have some friends down in the lab-”

“Thank you.” Logan cut him off with a curt nod. “I… appreciate the assistance. But I want to re-investigate my own claims before I pursue this route.”

His mentor sighed knowingly. “I know, your first discovery is always difficult. Take your time, if you want to look into this ‘apex predator’ thing by all means don’t let me stop you, but remember that your thesis needs to be built on hard evidence- not just theories.”

“Yes, I understand.” Logan gave him a soft smile. He gathered up the last of his belongings, bidding his mentor farewell before heading out the door. As soon as he left the room, Logan’s smile faded. Evidence. How was he supposed to gain evidence of a creature thought to not exist?

Well, there was only one thing to it, Logan supposed- Logan would just have to find the apex predator himself. 

Now Logan was no fool, he’d grown up in the town of Sireville and knew the dangers as well as any inhabitant. It was a risky business, traversing into the forest, but Logan also knew that numbers would attract unwanted attention. He knew these woods well enough to recognize signs of danger as well as any anomalies that would prove he was on the right track. Logan was also intelligent enough to wait until the following morning, not venturing out at a time when night could befall him. To be caught in the woods at night never ended well. 

It would be perhaps wise to let someone know where he was going, but if something went wrong to the point where Logan couldn’t handle himself the only thing a rescued party would discover would be his remains. Logan shuddered briefly at the thought as he entered his kitchen, giving his mother a wave before gathering the necessary supplies for his trip.

“What’s got you all dressed up?” His mother asked, peering over the counter at his attire. Logan had changed from his usual business casual into something more fitting for the forest, equipping a sturdy set of boots over his hiking pants and throwing on his tactical long sleeved shirt. 

“Field study.” Logan explained, purposefully being vague as he finished packing his backpack. 

“Alright, be safe.” She frowned lightly at him. “Don’t wander too far, alright? And stay on the paths.”

“I’ll be alright.” Logan reassured her, purposefully avoiding making any promises as he stepped out the door. This certainly wasn’t the first time he went out to gather evidence, having done it on several occasions throughout his studies, but it would certainly be the furthest journey yet if his expedition proved successful. Logan had taken the necessary precautions, packing extra rations should the day grow long. He didn’t pack anything for camping through the night, intending on hiking back before nightfall. At the very least he wouldn’t be foolish enough to fall asleep in the middle of the woods with so many creatures patrolling.

Logan took a deep breath, stepping in amongst the trees that had grown so familiar. He made a quick pace, wanting to get as deep as possible before the light faded. The college student took note of his surroundings, waiting for any sign of the extraordinary that he had not viewed before. The further he traveled the less familiar the trees became, growing further apart- a sure sign that larger beings had pushed them aside and nature adapted to the creature’s whims. It was truly terrifying the things that some beasts could accomplish, the impact they could have on the world around them possibly without even noticing it.

What sort of beast was Logan tracking, anyhow? He began to ponder this, growing tense as the background chattering of birds became accompanied with the low shifting of some great beasts far off. Logan paused, observing his surroundings and trying to pinpoint the noise. Could that be his target? Surely not, it wouldn’t be so easy. And yet Logan hardly recognized this clearing, and the markings upon the trees were different from any left by a harpy taking flight. Instead the limbs seemed… weary, as if something of great weight had been draped across them.

Observing further, Logan grabbed his journal and began to take diligent notes of his surroundings, adding accompanying drawings when necessary for illustration purposes. Now keeping a keen eye out for details, Logan spotted a familiar slithering track upon the forest floor. A lesser field scientist might have dismissed it for that of a Chimera’s tail, but Logan noticed there were no accompanying footprints. Furthermore, the track was far too thick to belong to a Chimera snake. 

No, whatever creature laid these tracks was larger than a Chimera. Logan was practically giddy with excitement, scribbling frantically into his notebook. He was right! Some disease, indeed. Curiosity overtaking him, Logan wasn’t thinking clearly as he blindly followed the tracks deeper into the forest. The trees began to twist and curl in unnatural patterns, bent out of shape to make shade or revealing clearings of sunlight in others. Logan leapt over a fallen decaying trunk, pondering what other evidence he might discover. Perhaps some of the Chimera pieces? A discarded scale or feather? Or perhaps…

Logan froze, hearing a soft whistling noise coming from further up the path. It had a familiar pattern to it, slowly Logan recognizing the sound as faint snoring. He crept closer, now incredibly mindful of where his feet were placed. Logan peeked through the underbrush, barely holding in his gasp at the sight that awaited him.

Or perhaps the creature itself.

Logan couldn’t comprehend what was before him. At first, all Logan could process was the gigantic, ever so slightly shifting wall of red scales before him, aligned in the familiar pattern of a reptile. Before he even made an initial hypothesis Logan’s head snapped up at the sound of another snore, a hand going to his mouth at the sight. It seemed that this giant reptilian beast had a homo sapien upper half, not unlike a harpy or the merfolk. A naga. 

Logan had only heard tales of them, always assumed to be mere legends or perhaps having gone extinct ages ago. But looking at the sight before him the notion of going extinct seemed ridiculous. What could possibly wipe out such a gargantuan creature, clearly bred to dominate the ecosystem? Certainly nothing less than another meteor shower.

Entranced, Logan was ever cautious as he raised his pencil to his notepad, giving one practice skritch across the paper. He flinched at the noise, but the clearing remained undisturbed. Logan gave the tiniest sigh of relief, knowing that at any moment he could be in very imminent danger.

But what was the harm in staying one moment longer to observe? If the beast were to wake this moment, Logan would certainly be unable to outrun it should the naga pursue. He would be in harm’s way anywhere, so Logan took advantage of this opportunity and began to expertly sketch the creature. He had come this far after all. Best not to waste it.

Logan stuck his tongue out in concentration, not wanting to miss a detail even in his haste to finish and get out before the creature woke. His eyes glanced up every few moments, taking in the monster’s posture. It’s position was languid, relaxed back upon its own tail as if using it as a bean bag chair. It appeared to be quite pleased, likely taking pleasure from soaking in the sun that poured through. One arm lay across its forehead, the other straight back so its fingers just grazed the ground. Logan took careful note of these appendages, aware of the sharp claws on each one and how they twitched every so often in sleep. 

His drawing was beginning to take form, having captured most details he could from this angle. Logan was debating the pros and cons of attempting to move to get another angle when the naga let out a large yawn, briefly displaying its fangs. Eagerly Logan flipped to a new page, jotting down a new sketch before the sight disappeared entirely. Why, by his estimations one of those fangs could easily dwarf his entire arm in length. 

So enraptured in his work was he that Logan failed to notice the yawn was only the beginning of a chain of events. The creature’s claws left the ground, coming up to stretch above its head with a creaking of bones that got Logan’s attention. He froze, watching the intimidating beast stretch skyward as it lifted its torso and basked in the sun for a moment more. 

Slowly it dawned on Logan what a precarious situation he was in; his research would all be for naught if he died before presenting his findings. Logan clutched his journal to his chest, heart pounding as he watched the naga sniff the air. It didn’t take a student fluent in animal behaviors to know exactly what scent the creature had picked up as it frowned, tongue stuck out to sniff the air again.

Under normal circumstances, Logan would hope estimate that, being so small in comparison, a naga would pay a human no mind. There were much larger creatures in the forest that would make more filling prey. However, half-humans always seemed to have a dangerous curiosity about their counterparts, and Logan had trespassed into this being’s territory. 

Logan gulped, all color draining from his face as those piercing red eyes bore directly down onto him. Immediately Logan turned to run (a fruitless effort), but before he had even fully turned Logan felt himself yanked backwards and into the air, eliciting a cry from the startled human who frantically tried to keep a grip on both his glasses and his book as he found himself dangling painfully upside-down, only the grip of those claws on his left leg keeping him from falling to a quick demise. 

Logan found himself feeling a bit dizzy as he was brought before the naga’s face. Those fangs were perhaps a bit less intriguing as they cruelly smiled at him, the naga’s eyes boring into his soul as he was turned this way and that like a curious bauble. 

“Why hello there, my little morsel.” The naga’s statement rumbled with dangerous curiosity, sending a wave of warm breath over Logan that made the human shudder. If he were not so entranced with those perilous teeth (was that a venomous sac below the rearmost fangs?) Logan might have noticed the alarming glint in its eyes. “I don’t think one of you has ever wandered this far, not without my rancid brother getting a hand on them first at least.”

Oh good lord there’s two of them. Logan jolted at this newest realization. Two? No wonder the populations were dwindling so drastically.

“So what makes you so special?” The naga tilted its head, poking Logan with a single claw, eliciting a startled breath in from the human who was very surprised he hadn’t just been torn to shreds. For now the naga seemed amused enough to watch as Logan slowly began to rotate, clearly toying with him in its ‘playful’ demeanor. “Well? Go on then, does the meager human speak?”

“I-I-” Logan cringed, loathing the sound of his own voice as it had raised an octave. It didn’t help that all the blood was rushing to his head. He cleared his throat, holding on to the minuscule hope that such a beast could be reasoned with. “Yes, I can speak.”

With a flick of its wrist Logan once again found himself airborne, letting out a high pitched noise of protest before finding himself one skipped heartbeat later once again within the monster’s clutches, this time right side up.

“‘Squeak’ is more like it.” The naga chuckled, prodding Logan’s side. The human winced away from the touch, though it was difficult with how tightly the claws were curled around him. Logan could feel his journal digging into his side. 

Still, Logan couldn’t help but frown, feeling that he was being mocked.

The naga hummed, seeming to debate with itself for a moment. “So what were you doing spying on me anyhow?” It asked, its expression betraying a hint of confusion. “I heard your heart racing a mile a minute in that bush.”

Logan cringed. “You… you did?”

“Why I would have expected to find a hummingbird, I could hardly have missed it!” The naga scoffed. “And yet for all your jitters you didn’t move a muscle. Did fear make you freeze? Are you simply stupid?”

“No.” Logan answered, perhaps a bit too petulantly for dealing with a gigantic predator. He coughed, checking his temper. “I mean, ah, I was perhaps too absorbed in my own jubilation, as I had been looking for you.”

“For me?” The creature seemed to almost purr, its smile returning as Logan felt the grip around him loosen ever so slightly. “Oh, how you flatter me. Then of course you must have appreciated what you found?”

“Well...yes?” Logan turned a bit red, unaccustomed to this line of socialization. T’was a true pity his life was resting on his perilous social skills. “That is to say, you’re certainly extraordinary, surpassing all my initial expectations.”

“Hmm.” Pleased with this response, the naga settled to lay stomach down on its own scales, holding Logan out before it. The claws shifted again, now forming a sort of basin so that Logan could sit freely. “How so?”

By all of Logan’s calculations, this was going well. The creature seemed entertained enough to spare his life, for now. Logan just needed to keep the conversation going until… well, Logan preferred to focus on the present even as those perilous jaws loomed so casually above him.

“I suppose, firstly, your very existence was an unexpected surprise.” Logan adjusted his glasses, the frames having become skewed in all the excitement. “Very rarely are my assumptions incorrect, so I knew there was some manner of apex predator roaming these woods, but as to your exact classification I admit that was a mystery. There is a common understanding that nagas are creatures of legend, or perhaps long extinct. Certainly…” Logan paused, realizing perhaps this wasn’t the most logical point to bring up. “Certainly if others have discovered  you, none have returned to tell the tale.”

The naga gave a scoff. “That’d be my brother’s doing, no doubt. Did you know we used to be worshiped apparently? Back in the golden days we were like gods. That was before people like him started experimenting with other uses for humans. Wasteful, if you ask me, disposing of such large numbers so quickly-”

“I wholly agree.” Logan spoke up too soon.

The naga snorted, clearly amused by the human’s timing. “I, on the other hand, prefer to play with my food.”

“...ah.” Well, that was a less than ideal response. Logan cleared his throat, trying to hide his nerves as he curled a bit in on himself, readjusting the grip on his journal. “So, ah, you mentioned a brother twice now, as well as hinting at others. How many of you are there?”

The monster frowned slightly, and Logan immediately regretted his question. “...Well I hardly think it matters, we nagas keep to ourselves well enough. Lucky you for stumbling upon the best naga of them all.” This last statement was accompanied by a very cocky smile.

“Hmm.” Logan wasn’t certain he agreed, but naturally he had no subjects to compare. “I was merely curious as I conduct research on local wildlife and wanted to compare behavioral traits between your kind and the Coachwhip species, of which your scale pattern most resembles.”

The naga blinked, glancing down at its tail as if for the first time. “It does?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.” Logan turned to his journal, flipping back through the pages. He cursed, realizing his reptile notes were in a different book. “Alright, my apologies, I forgot my scale reference sketches back home, but see?” Logan pulled up the sketch of the naga himself instead, pointing at the tail pattern. “The pattern of your scales represents a braided whip-”

“Is that me?” The naga cut him off excitedly, Logan’s stomach lurching as he was raised higher. 

Logan blinked, glancing between his drawing and its inspiration. “...yes?” 

He watched the naga’s reaction very carefully, hoping the monster was pleased with what it observed. At first Logan worried that the beast would be enraged at the fact Logan had been spying for an extended period, or worse yet perhaps it would feel the need to destroy his notebook to remove any evidence of its existence. To his relief, the creature seemed to be almost pleased as it took in the intricacies of the drawing.

“You made this?” A careful pair of claws pinched at the journal. Logan tightened his grip, before realizing that in a strength contest either the naga would win or his book would be shredded. With this in mind he reluctantly released, watching the massive being lift the journal ever higher to view it above its head as if to shine light through counterfeit currency. 

“Yes, I have always been known for my attention to detail, and illustrations have been proven to assist in comprehension of reports-”

“Can you do it again?” The naga cut him off, handing Logan back his notebook.

“I, yes, I suppose.” Logan furrowed his brow, confused. “Right now?”

“Well it hardly appears as if you’re doing much else at the moment.” The naga gave a loud, purposeful yawn, displaying its fangs. “Of course, I’m certain I can find other, tastier ways to spend our time together…”

“Understood.” Logan grimaced, the monster’s subtlety lacking. “Very well then, is there a- particular feature you want me to illustrate?”

“Don’t go cutting any of my gorgeous figure off!” The naga scoffed. “I best be seeing my beauty tip to tail, you hear me?”

“It would be impossible not to.” Logan tried to hide his growing irritation. “But to create such a piece, I’ll need to be placed on the ground so as to have an appropriate vantage point.”

His request was considered. “Very well.” The naga agreed, setting him once again down on the ground. 

Logan stumbled, surprised to once again feel solid ground under his feet. It was astounding- just moments ago, Logan would have doubted his ability to experience this ever again. 

“Tick tock, come now with your tiny talents.” The naga poked him with an impatient claw. Quickly regaining his composure, Logan pulled out his writing utensil and opened to a clean page.

“Is there a particular angle you’d prefer?” Logan asked.

“I am a priceless gem, I sparkle from all angles.” The creature purred, striking a pose where it was once again draped over its own tail as if lounging on a fainting couch.

Logan huffed, fighting the urge to rant about how light reflection actually works. He glanced around, taking a few steps back and debating only for a moment if he should turn tail and leave.

“I hope you’re not thinking of running off on me.” The naga seemed to read his thoughts, raising a taunting eyebrow.

Logan jumped, focusing back to the task at hand. “I’m not.” He lied, finally putting his pencil to the pad. “Just finding the best setup location.”

The naga hummed, clearly not believing a word, but seemed satisfied to watch Logan work. A bit too satisfied, as it leaned up and attempted to watch over Logan’s shoulder.

“Stop looming, you’ll cast shadows.” Logan huffed. “And if you keep moving about I’ll never finish, sit still.”

“You’ll never finish regardless.” The naga pouted, but flopped back amongst its coils. “You’re taking forever.”

“It has hardly been a minute.” Logan debated in his head how slowly he could draw without generating suspicion. He wanted to drag this event out as long as possible, having full knowledge that if the naga was satisfied with Logan’s work he might deem Logan’s task- and thus his life- as finished. Logan shuddered at the thought.

Clearly bored, the naga’s attention was once again focused solely on Logan, preventing any escape attempts. It was quite distracting, having those piercing eyes staring down at him so intently. It was especially infuriating that Logan couldn’t guess as to what it was thinking. 

Why make him draw the creature again? Surely one drawing would be enough? Perhaps it merely wanted an illustration where it could be alert and poised. But what would come next? Would the naga request more illustrations, or would the monster be satisfied? What would occur if Logan’s pencil broke? Or perhaps the creature grew hungry before Logan was even finished? Would it bother to wait around long enough for Logan to complete his depiction, or would Logan be sent down its ravenous throat at the first sign of an appetite?

“What’s your name?”

Logan blinked, stumbling out of his thought process. “...pardon?” The question felt far too mundane considering the circumstances.

“Humans have names, don’t they?” The naga tilted its head. “What’s yours?”

Logan was still perplexed that it had thought to ask. “Logan. Logan Sanders.” 

The naga nodded, giving him a smile that might have been intended to be encouraging. 

“...and what is your name?” Logan asked finally, realizing that’s what it wanted.

“You may call me Roman.” The naga- er, Roman- introduced himself, accompanying the statement with a little wave of his hand and a half bow.

Under normal circumstances, Logan might be expected to say it was a pleasure to meet Roman. “Stop moving.” Logan reminded him instead.

“Well aren’t you a barrel of fun, Logan.” Roman paused, rolling the name around on his tongue as he tried it out. “Logan. Looooogan. Logan! You know, once you get used to it it’s not all that terrible.” 

Logan paused, once again feeling utterly perplexed as he peered up at Roman. “My name differs from yours in only three letters.”

“And what difference those three letters make.” Roman breathed an imaginary sigh of relief. He teasingly grinned at Logan. “Oh come now, I jest, live a little, Lo!” 

“My name is Logan, not Lo.” Logan corrected immediately, loathing when individuals shortened his name. Roman snorted. “What’s so amusing?”

“I just realized my choice of phrasing.” Roman’s grin turned sly. “‘Live a little,’ and you are also yourself little- should be quite easy then, eh?”

Logan refused to acknowledge the jab for several moments, eventually caving with the urge to defend himself. “I am above average height for a human being, actually.” Logan felt the need to inform him. 

“Well good for you.” Roman teased, and all of a sudden one of his knuckles was ruffling Logan’s hair. It startled the human enough to make him take a step back, pausing his work to readjust his appearance. The naga seemed to be finished toying with him, for now, and allowed Logan to fall back into the quiet lapse of his work. Unfortunately, with the naga’s round of questioning, Logan found his thoughts drifting elsewhere until he felt compelled to ask a few questions of his own.

“Why did you inquire about my name?” Logan asked, knowing he was venturing down a dangerous topic bringing up his own future. “It seems a bit sadistic to ask if you intend to… if you have ill intentions for myself.” 

It was a bold risk, but Logan was curious if perhaps this was similar to the phenomenon of humans becoming attached to animals after naming them. If Logan could market himself in just the right way, perhaps the naga would be more taken with the novelty of his artistic talents and find he was a valuable enough individual to not end his days within Roman’s stomach.

“Hmm, I like to know.” The naga’s noncommittal shrug squashed the hopes right out of Logan. “Speaking of, are you done yet?”

Logan’s blood ran cold. “Ah, no, not quite yet.”

“Hurry up, I’m growing famished.” Roman groaned, not encouraging Logan to hurry up in the slightest. “You take much longer and I’ll just have to settle for you.”

“Settle?” Logan refused to let himself perk up too much at the peculiar word choice. “So you’re...not going to….?”

Roman laughed as if Logan was a fool. “Oh please, you’d hardly be filling. I feast on Chimeras, you’re nothing.”

Logan had never felt more elated to be told he was nothing.

“A snack, perhaps.” Roman gave him a pointed look. “A tasty one at that, if you don’t get a move on. So chip-chop, Mini Muse.”

“A muse is a source of inspiration, not the craftsman.” Logan corrected, hurrying up all the same. His heart had begun to pound with a mixture of excitement and nerves. “There, it’s finished.”

“Oh do let me see.” With a great amount of slithering the massive tail began to unravel, curling around Logan as it stretched out. Before Logan could be constricted amongst the coils Roman reached down and once again scooped up the human. Logan lost his balance briefly, settling into a safe sitting position before presenting the journal to be viewed. “Why, it’s gorgeous!”

“I’m certainly grateful it’s to your liking.” Logan conceded. He never looked at his drawings with an artistic eye, focused solely on being anatomically correct for his diagrams. 

“Oh indeed, it’s amazing you can make out all my tiny features.” Roman squinted down at the paper. “A shame your works are so small, I wish to appreciate them more. You’re so fortunate to be graced with the real thing.”

“Indeed.” Logan deadpanned. He glanced at the sky, noticing the sun beginning to sink lower in the horizon. “It appears to be getting late, and I’ve likely wasted enough of your precious time. I’m certain you have several tasks which you must complete, so if you’ll just set me down-”

“Set you down?” Roman raised an eyebrow. “Why Logan, I think you and I have different ideas of how this evening will go.”

This was all the warning Logan got before Roman lunged, and a sharp pain shooting up Logan’s side. Logan hissed, completely in shock as his tense form attempted to process what just happened. His mouth gaped open, stuttering as he tried to react to the situation even as his mind clogged up.

“Shh.” Roman’s rumbling voice was right in his ear, the sound all encompassing as Logan’s vision blurred. The last thing he was aware of was Roman murmuring for him to “-just give in.”

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (22)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Laziness. We humans are the champions of laziness. We always push something back the next day or the day after. And sometimes wrongly. Because even the important things, we push them back to the next day. We're lazy on everything, shopping, cleaning, meals, showers, outings, work... Life in general. But where we are the laziest, where we are the champions of the world, what do I say, of the universe, what do I say again, of the whole galaxy! It's to get up.

Aaaah...How good it is to stay in a bed, so soft, so fluffy, that we could say that it’s a cloud. Not a sound, a perfect silence... Why wake up and get up when you can easily stay in bed and sleep all day? Because... Because you have to live anyway. And then starving and stinking the old goat is not an option.

Danny opened his eyes dimly, the soft glow of the day glimmering his cheek. And the first thing he saw and felt made him smile. You were there, in bed, in his arms, a smile on your face, a smile that sublimated your face. He did the right thing not to kill you. For now. Even though he couldn't take you to the seventh heaven that night, he couldn't help but feel some satisfaction in keeping you close to him for the whole night.  

Seeing this... He was thinking about Carla. She was the same. Never let go in the morning, worse than an oyster to his rock. He would give anything to see her again... Just one last time. He rose gently, without waking you, to sit on the bed. He gently opened the drawer of his nightstand to take out the picture. He'll never separate from this picture. It was the only thing, the only memory of her, that he possessed.

He couldn't help but think about it: how would his life be today if Carla were still alive? Well first of all, he wouldn't be a murderer all over the country. I think it’s a no-brainer that we can all make. They both had plans, each would have made a career, they would have had their own home. Children... They would have had a good life. They would have had... But that will never happen now. He suddenly felt two hands resting on his torso, then a head landing in the hollow of his neck. He turned his head slightly to see you, a slight smile on your lips, your hair slightly in battle.

“Sorry... I didn't want to wake you up. You know you can sleep a little longer...” He said before kissing you.

“Don't worry... you have nothing to do with it. And then I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep if you're gone. You're hot, at least, with you I'm not going to get cold.” you respond sticking to him before looking at the picture. “It's... Is that Carla? She was really pretty... You were lovely together... I almost feel ridiculous by comparison.”

“Hey, don't say that. You are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever met. What Carla and I lived... How she was... Will never be comparable to the two of us. I could never forget her. That's impossible. But I can't stay like this forever. I have to move forward, and it is with you that I want to move forward now. That is what she would like me to do. And I will, for her. Now all that matters is you. OK?” He replied, hugging you tenderly.

“Thank you, Jed...you’re so adorable.” you answer.

“I know. I'm going to prepare breakfast, I'm not as expert as you but... Eggs and bacon only resist me very rarely. I'll let you wake up gently.”  

He got up as he stretched, then put on a pair of pants and a black tank top. Then he went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, releasing eggs and two slices of bacon. Then he turned on the gas and cooked it for each plate. He served each plate and took out orange juice. Everything we need for the day. Today he had planned to spend time with you. Even if first, he had to take you to the police station so that you could make your statement. And of course.... it's with Inspector Wilhelm. Decidedly, it’s to be believed that he is the only inspector of this city ... And yet there are four of them. Of course not. He's the one who falls on.  

The day he can kill him... will be the icing on the cake. Of course, if he's going to kill him, he'll do it when he leaves town. Because unfortunately he won't be able to stay forever in Roseville. In any case, it’s not in his plans. And if you could follow... that would be perfect. Of course, you have your business here... but he will wait until you have an employee qualified enough to take over the coffee, and you will open another one in your new city.

And then... maybe he can accomplish his projects, which he had with Carla, with you? It's a possibility. And like that... you could never leave him. You would be his adorable little wife... raising your children and also working on your side. And he will do the same, Danny is not the type to do nothing in a relationship. He returned to his bedroom when he saw you, your hand on the doorknob of his office. He stepped forward and put a hand on your shoulder gently, which startled you and let go of the handle.

“Curiosity is a nasty flaw my love. There are precious things I care about in there. Even though I know you won't touch anything... I... I can't let you in right now. But promised... one day you'll be able to access this room. The breakfast is ready and careful: I would be very upset if there is anything left on the plate.” He said before kissing you and laugh.

“Yes, sir! leave nothing in the plate or otherwise grumpy Jed will wake up.” You answer laughing.

“I was thinking... After you go to the police station, maybe we could spend a little day together? nothing but you and me... wherever you want, in the park, in the museum, in the shops... even though the shops and I are not very good friends.”

“Why not? And then I could take the opportunity to check if everything's okay at the café. In case some naughty little bake thieves passed.”

“It's not me... I was very well watched last night.”  

You both laugh before you eat. Then Danny cleared it, took his stuff and waited until you were ready to leave to open the door and take the keys to the van. Both, you’re heading towards the vehicle and once properly settled, Danny started and set off for the police station. He didn't think he'd see Wilhelm again anytime soon. He parked in the parking lot of the police station and decided to accompany you. There's no way you're going to be alone with Wilhelm.

You both showed up at the reception and the policeman informed the inspector before letting you through. Danny smiled, he couldn't stand this place, at the same time who wants to be here? No one. But unfortunately, he has no choice even if he could have stayed in the van, Danny prefers to stay with you. He still imagines Wilhelm's face when he sees him. And that didn't take long. Wilhelm was waiting outside his office and when he saw Danny, a little grin appeared on his face.

“Olsen... still in my paws, isn't it? What are you doing here?” He asks, with a false smile.

“Well, I'm coming with my girlfriend. It's been official for a while. It's silly a few days ago you wouldn't have seen me.” Danny responds with a provocative smile.

“Tsk. Well... I don't see what women find in the journalist.... Especially you. Anyway, come in, miss. On the other hand, Olsen, you're staying there.”

“Oh no I don't think so, I wouldn't leave that beautiful angel alone with you.”

Wilhelm growled slightly and let Danny into the office with you. He gave you a little smile and a wink before sitting down with you. The deposition lasted about an hour and a half, Wilhelm sometimes asking you for details about your assault. And on your attacker. After all, He has to know if there's a connection between him and you.  

Danny didn't tell anything. And held back from smiling or laughing when thinking about McKellan. If Wilhelm knew... if he could quickly find his body so Danny could see his head... if he started vomiting it would be the icing on the cake. And once again, he won't be suspected. Everything is perfect. You leave the police station after a few minutes, not without Danny and Wilhelm exchanging a few more spades. Then he joins you, gently taking you by the waist.

“I have the impression that you and Wilhelm are not on very good terms, I'm wrong?” you ask ironically

“Let's say that according to him I am... what does he call me already? Oh, yes! a "dirty weasel that deserves a big kick in the ass". So technically... No, we're both not really on good terms. Ah and also because I usually find more information about the Ghostface murders than he did then... you understand why he doesn't like me too much...” Danny responds with a sneaky smile.  

“I see indeed... Ok... Where are we going now?”

“Wherever you want my love. Tell me what you'd want and I'll take you there.”

“Hm... Let's go to the park. We can land quietly... and enjoy the day. And then we'll go out and eat. I've never tested Indian food...”

“Mattew has a very bad memory of it... Don't ever talk to him about it if you don't want to see him twist in half.” Replied Danny, laughing a little.  

Danny got in the van and waited for you to get on board to start and leave the parking lot of the police station. He went towards the park and besides, he knew exactly where to go to be quiet. The park being quite large, there was a small lake that hardly anyone frequented. So, you won't be disturbed at this place. A perfect moment of calm and peace that Danny wanted.

The park was big. people were scattered all over the place, children played while adults chatted, sipping a small glass of wine or other fun. Danny looked up at the sky, people are inveterate drunks. He also drank and held alcohol but no more than two drinks. The only time he went further than two drinks... Let's say he would have a hard time remembering how and why he woke up in a hammock... In his underwear. When it was cold. Well, he was in high school, and someone put a warm blanket on him. So, we can put this on account of the youthful spirit...

He parked not far from the lake and went down making sure everything was closed and then followed you to land right in front of the lake. The view from here was beautiful. For an artist or photographer, it was the perfect place.

“I often come here when I need to work quietly. And get some fresh air. Even if technically, I could just stay at home and open the window... I'm not that nerd... Not yet.” Said Danny using his coat to sit on the floor.

“It's kind of your secret garden... even if there are still people who come... It's very nice.” You said, sitting next to him.

You watch the lake for several hours while chatting. Some passers-by also came to settle down, and children came to play. In fact, Danny almost got a frisbee in his head twice. It's a good thing he had a good reflex. But despite his good reflexes, you laughed every time. A laugh he could hear all day. Then around noon, you leave the park to eat. There was a small Indian restaurant not far from the park. If Danny was content with a simple chicken curry, you on the other hand enjoy everything you had taken. It wasn't expensive but it was good. And he didn't even have time to get out of what to pay for. You paid, long before he took out his wallet.

Then came the afternoon shopping. Danny couldn't say no unfortunately, he promised to take you wherever you wanted to go. Fortunately, in another sense, not all of them were clothing stores. You made him buy a few decorations, a frame so he could put the picture of him and Carla and two/three other little things. Then comes the clothing store.

“I'm not a big fan of shorts and tank tops you know...” Said Danny, lying. He has to live as a Jed when he's with you. For now. He can’t wait the day when he can be again and simply himself.

“I think it looks good on you! It changes you! it makes you look more ... sexy.” you respond cheerfully.

“Well...if you say so. I'm going to listen to you. But don't expect to change my entire wardrobe...”

“Oh, but little by little I will get there! You won't even realize it.”

Danny sighed and laughed, shaking his head. The evening came, and as you had planned, you go to the café to check that everything was fine. And you take the opportunity to pass a broom. Then tired of your day, you both go home. But this time, Danny didn't have time to get you into his house, you've already opened the door to your apartment.

“You'll be able to sleep alone like a big boy tonight... I have to make the cakes for the shop tomorrow. Even though I'd prefer to spend time with you. I wish I could destroy the wall that separates our two apartments...” You said, laughing a little

“Unfortunately, I'm not sure the owners agree ... but living in the same apartment is not a possibility to be ruled out. you have to think about it... and in the meantime we will be separated by a wall...” said Danny before kissing you. “Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.”  

Danny went back to his apartment and closed the door. He put the bags and his coat on the sofa, the keys on the furniture of the entrance, and walked to his office. He's very lucky to have seen you ready to open the door. He would have a hard time explaining all of this to you. But one day you'll find out. One day... he may be himself again.

But the night was not over for him. He took his bag which contained his Ghostface outfit and prepared to leave. Tonight, he had no particular target. Tonight, he was lazy to stalk someone to kill him later. Tonight, we're going to change our method.  Tonight, a poor unlucky man will cross his path. And he'll die.  

Sometimes... The change in habits...feels good.

***

(I get my code exam! Yeah!!!! Next step: Driving! And that will be another story, because I'm little scared of driving XD. I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Now time for my brain to get some rest after an intense week! Have a good week-end!  See ya!)

[summoner-chan]

✨⭐[幸せな4周年!/Happy 4th Anniversary!]⭐✨

4⭐ Ose came home today with the FIRST ticket and I've never been so happy!! I've been wanting his 4⭐ for so long now and now that I've gotten it, I started writing a self indulgent fic of Summoner-chan using up the Platinum Lil Salomon card just for Ose! Hope everyone enjoy reading it!

Hurried footsteps echoed lightly through the halls, almost resembling like an excited child awaiting their gift under the tree when it was Christmas morning. The brunette couldn't help but giggle and grin with joy, gripping the single card in between her fingers. The thought of surprising her favourite familiar made her heart blossom with flowers, butterfies swooning in her stomach. The short female hastened her steps more, eager of seeing the therian clad in a white suit

The leopard was idling by the garden, the various plants and flowers from otherworldly realms made him felt that he had visited the realm just by looking at them. Truly, it gave him a sense of serenity and tranquility. Being a triple agent was certainly thrilling but exceptionally exhausting to say the least, though, he didn't expect to have become one of the familiars of the very infamous guild master and her guild, Hanasaki Abuto of The Summoners

And he certainly and absolutely didn't expect to be tackled from behind as a loud cry of his name soared into his ears, their arms wrapped around his midsection and as the grip tightened at every second. His suave smile grew even wider as he very well knew who it was before looking over his shoulder only to be greeted with brown orbs glittering in the sunlight, a toothy grin that was accompanied by the giggles slipping through her lips

The fem eased her grip as she let the therian turns his body to face her, diving her face into his broad chest and having to earn a light chuckle out of him. Large diamond spotted hands caressed the cheek of his beloved summoner, his heart swelling with adoration as she leaned more into his touch before placing her small gentle hands on his own, her dazzling smile seemed to pull him more into the dangerous game called love. He had his fair share of affections but not as strongly as he felt towards the young lady

"My, my, boss. You seemed to be such in a good mood while being even more cuter today. Has a miracle happened while you dear handsome familiar was away?" The leopard therian cooed, a surge of pride coursed through his veins when his green eyes caught up to the reddening hues of her features. Now that he had taken a great look of her face, he noticed that the usual full lips was glossed and it was slightly tinted, marvelously enhancing the natural colour and it went gorgeously well with her sun kissed skin.

Oh how ironic it was that he was granted with such a heavenly view despite being a creature from the depths of Gehenna. He wholly welcomed the gift that whatever ethereal beings had given to him, whether it be the Gods of the Heavens or the Devils of the Hells or maybe it was mix of the two but either way, he's not complaining of it. The sight of a card adorned with the lines of gold covered his field of vision before having it lowered, the young lady peaking through as if to see his reaction

It seemed to be that his summoner had recently got a handful of Platinum Lil Salomon tickets as she calls it, from what she had enthusiastically explained to him before, it had the ability to summon a familiar of their own choice, even summoning to an even powerful and stronger variant of the familiar. The male didn't considered himself special or eye catching compared to the other familiars she had on her team like for example, the butler from the Ikebukuro Berserkers and the prosecutor from the Rule Makers as both had evolved into their highest form unlike him, who has still yet to be given the opportunity of having the privilege of such

A feeling had wormed through its way into his heart, a feeling that he tried to extinguish but the leopard had underestimated its untamed fire, rivaling to even the fire that spawned in the lowest pit of Gehenna. The notorious feeling that could sever, crush and erase bonds like no other was jealousy. The man would rather lop his head off than let his charming, collected and flirtatious image to be stained with jealousy, no, he wasn't going to submit and surrender to it so easily without battling the wretched emotion with all his might

The therian closed his eyes and hummed as if in thought as he had guessed that she was going to use it to summon more variants or get the same kind to increase the strength for the other two companions but went along using a trick up his sleeve. "Looks like your devilish familiar is a bit clueless today, boss. Mind enlightening me who's the lucky man who's going to be summoned?" said the spy. The brunette's smile was replaced with a pout, her brows furrowed as she let out a huff and her hand was quick to playfully smack the therian's chest before the male breath out a small 'ouch' from the attack

"You're really going to make a girl say it first?..." Oh? Well that's new. Make a girl say it first? What in the world did his summoner was going to say? The fem felt like she was shrinking under the gaze of her familia who turned quiet and merely was waiting for her answer by the looks of it. Oh how she wanted the ground to swallow her up whole, sadly, miracles don't happen that often so she's left with to deal with her own embarrasment. Her gaze was anywhere else than gazing into those hypnotizing green eyes, resembling to a precious mineral stone that she adored, emerald

Clearing her throat, the fem raised the fancy card up, using it as a shield to block her blushing face and to avoid looking at her own familiar to save herself from the embarrassment. The card slowly started to glow, the colours shifting from red to green to grey before settling down with purple. As the card glowed, the image of the goat transient that was on it, too, changed as well, morphing entirely into another transient. The image swirled vigorously and the glow grew brighter and brighter, the therian having to squint his eyes from the light. With a loud shing, the purple mysterious glow faded and turned into mist, covering the pair as the wind picked up and blew it all away gently

The choice of the summoning has been done, now all the summoner of the card have to do is to cast the card, just like summoning familiars from the App (Gacha). The fem was shaking with anticipation and nervousness, the silence of her familiar was eating her away, was he not happy that he was chosen? "Boss" The sudden call made the therian's summoner jumped at the sound of her addressment, pulling the card closer to her face as she let out a shaky hum as an answer of his call. "Don't be like that... Won't you see your darling familiar's face, boss..?" The brunette bites down her lip when the side of her face was fanned with hot, long, breaths of air. Large calloused hands were placed on her waist, sliding down agonizingly slow before resting themselves on the hips, thumbs drawing circles on the clothed area

A gasp had slipped through, the fem's voice quivering when the therian placed his lips on the unprotected skin of her neck, easing his way up while leaving soft kisses on the flushed flesh, soft pants were also induced from the mere action. "Still not budging, I see? How admirable of you to stand your ground after that stunt I pulled, boss. Though...I doubt that you'll last after this one" With a lick of his lips, his resting hands started to move down further, inching closer and closer to his beloved summoner's backside. Just as he was about to reach, the young lady let out a squeal of surrender, her hand tapping on his white clad shoulder as the other still held on to the card

"I'll look at you! I'll look at you! Just- You're going to make me overheat from all of that..!" Chuckling, the male swiped the card away from her fingers, the young lady letting out a strangled 'hey!' before quickly shutting up when the leopard placed a firm hold of her waist, their faces undeniably close. "Not so hard isn't it, boss? You could have listened to me sooner but, ah, alas you caused your own downfall, didn't you?" The leopard donned in the suit said teasingly, sending out a wink into the fem's direction

"Now there's must be a reason of why you chose me, say boss?" His only response was silence, his summoner batting her eyelashes at him, putting on the 'I don't know what you're talking about' look. Most of her friends and familiar were all too knowing of this look, the girl being a terrible liar while being blatantly obvious that she was hiding something. With the rule that the therian had, he had already seen through her, completely capable of seeing the answer that he looked for but the leopard wanted to hear it from her own very lips instead, it's more fun teasing and irking out the answer rather than by using that Rule of his.

"I w-wanted to summon that Red Oni!"

"Didn't you already have him, boss?"

"I-uh! w-wanted you to be stronger!"

"How nice of you to think of me boss but that's not entirely it isn't it?"

"You said that you wanted evolve right!! Then I took the chance and used the card for you!!"

"Indeed I do but there's no reason for you to willingly do so when you have other tons of familiar befitting of the card. Unless you have something important to tell me..?"

"Urk!.."

The brunette whined, all of her lies were cut down by the statements and questiones that her familiar dropped down on her. There's no more room to run to anymore, she's cornered and the truth is begging to be told, her heart leaping out from her chest from the frenzied situation. The summoner's lips moved but the sound of the words were extremely dimmed and it came out as a muttering to herself, fingers fiddling with the hem of her school jacket. The reaction from her is truly priceless! The male's sensitive ears took note of the words she just said but there's no way he's going to miss the opportunity to tease her more, filling up the desire to take her right then and there from the cute reactions she's giving

The leopard placed his hand behind his ear and leaned down, his signatures smirk on display for the world to see "Hmm? I couldn't hear what you said, boss. Mind repeating that for me?" The young lady started to stutter and trip on her words, all of this amused the therian that embraced her. Her hands reaching up to her face before cupping them, eyes shut and brows furrowed, the blush on her face was apparent "Because I love you, alright!" Yes, the answer that he was finally waiting for, the confession of her love to him. Before all of this event happened, the leopard therian had gotten his answer just by glancing to the cheery summoner of his when they hugged him. Their confession of love was written all over them

Ose figured his summoner had enough of his teasings, gently pulling her hands that cupped her face, his expression softened when the girl looked up to him with the same brown orbs that he stared into when he was summoned. The therian came nearer to his summoner, the space between them no more as two figures melded into one, lips pressed with one another, the summoner's eyes widen in shock before fluttering them close before kissing him back with the same fervor he's giving to her

The therian pulled away reluctantly, his sense of thought chipped when a soft moan of his name reached his ears, quickly regaining back his thoughts as he pressed another kiss on her temple. For now, the silence between them was all he needed. The love that was kept away in his heart blossomed, dancing with joy and happiness as the sun shone on to the waves and bid the flowers goodbye before another beacon of light replaced it, which was the Moon. The spy planned on returning the feelings that his summoner had for him in another different way but this was sufficient for him too, he guessed

Hoho! Quite lengthy than I expected to be honest but still happy with it!! I hope that everyone is having fun with the Anniversary!! Summoner-chan, signing off!⭐

✨⭐[幸せな4周年!/Happy 4th Anniversary!]⭐✨

[errthel]

I have risen up from the dead for the holidays to give this gift (Route Two : Part 6)

Hey man, wassup, how's life? I dunno what to say, I'm a terrible Santa. I put in more time into this chapter than the other chapters (in the spirit of preholiday break procrastination) so I hope you like this gift. This is derived for the amazing @tri3tri 's SW AU and I just thank her for creating such vivid and lovely AUs which I can immerse myself in, I loved the recent AU, Dead MC, a very nice one indeed. So I guess I will leave now so you can enjoy your reading time in peace ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lucien’s mind was a maze. Every twist and turn, every dead end taunted him, like a defenseless child taunted by their cruel relatives. His frustration knew no bounds when he failed to exit the maze, but that anger was soon replaced by something far more sinister.

The numbing sear on his body felt as if his body was suffocated when he slept. His appendages were like cooked pasta, limp and unruly. Breaths that were like that of an athlete who had run a marathon filled the room at lightning speed. The degradation of his vision forced the boy to squint but even that proved to be ineffective when blobs of different colors was all that filled his vision. Lucien could no longer feel the beat of his heart, his lungs wouldn’t budge and supply him with air. He felt his eyelids droop lower and lower in an agonizingly slow pace until they finally reached their destination. The room fell into a hushed silence, like the prior noise never happened, it was peaceful like a field of flowers on a cliff.

~

For her, time wasn’t a constriction, she had lived long enough to no longer fear the obnoxious concept of time. She lives alongside time. She is time. As long as time exists, she will live and be indifferent to time. Her hourglass will forever be reversed again and again when the sand trickled to the bottom.

But her long life no longer gave her any thrill, she lives in a kingdom where war no longer ensues in its borders and she has been reduced to a routine of nothingness. Until the woman with flowing (h/c) hair and blazing (e/c) eyes came years ago. The woman who was her granddaughter-in-law was an untameable dog who very much was the one who her dear grandson loved with all his heart. 

The sour taste in her mouth left her itching to tame the woman until she was the perfect lover for her grandson.

The sour taste in her mouth was satiated when the woman was on her knees along with her daughters, her confidence was cracking.

She was almost perfect.

Maleficent looked back to those recent memories and scoffed, what was she thinking? (MC) hadn’t changed even with a decade of taming, she truly was an untamable dog. She  sat on a chair that was as black as the abyss of space. In her unlit room, she was like a viper ready to strike at anything that disturbed her.

Her peace however is disrupted by a wave of magic. Her eyes quickly focused on the magic and tried to discern what kind of magic dared to make its way into the Valley of Thorns. Once she figured out what magic it was, her cackling reached the throne room as her bright green flames engulfed her room. She called in a meeting with all the high ranking nobles of The Valley of Thorns.

~

Her room was as gloomy as it was large, floor to ceiling window panes let in as much natural light as the rainy day allowed. She sighed, he was having another tantrum from their one-sided conversation in the morning. 

Her black dress was almost as beautiful as the woman who wore it. The dress was a two piece dress consisting of a bodice and a skirt. The woman's bodice was luxurious, even if it was done in a black fabric, delicate embroidery in black thread was littered across the bodice, while her two layered scalloped bertha collar was created with a sheer black fabric. A large skirt supported by a steel crinoline accentuated her waist as the corset helped to hold up her large skirt. She also wore a black veil, as if she was mourning for someone.

“Mother, long time no see.” Sherry’s somewhat cheery voice announced her presence

“How are you Sherry?” hearing her mother’s question brought the teenager joy as she happily sat on the sofa and talked about how she was feeling

“Hello Mother.” a stoic voice called out to the woman as she walked into the room

Sherry’s green eyes flicked over to Renata who seemed like she walked to the depths of hell and back.

“Yo Renata! You look like you're about to drop.”

“I do very much feel like that.” Renata sighs as she plops herself down to the sofa next to Sherry

“When you’re tired, sleep my dear.” 

“Mhm”

“Renata, did you?” (M/c) asked the black haired teen who nodded in agreement

“Mhm, I already did.” Renata said, referring to a magic spell which allows nobody to eavesdrop on their conversations

“I can feel that something will happen.” 

Sherry and Renata looked at their mother with confused looks, “What will happen?” Sherry said breaking the confusion

“Lucien is here in Twisted Wonderland.” 

“You’re joking!” Renata said looking at her

“The kid’s finally here huh.”

“We still aren’t ready.”

“Don’t worry, where do you think we live? Even if the Valley of Thorns continues to invade countries near it, this kingdom will always be isolated.” 

But her statement was disputed with the wave of magic that engulfed the room and brought the three ladies to panic. The magic was like a hurricane that knocked the breath out of their lungs and gave them excruciating pain by doing so.

“This magic! How is it so strong!” Sherry said trying to breath 

“No way. This is a finishing stage of transformation magic!” Renata said making (M/c) look at the window with surprised eyes

“Lucien…”

~

His face was like an unkempt garden and cottage, bellflowers and catmint littered the ground, sullen from the cold atmosphere. The yellow straw of the cottage roof looked disheveled as if it barely survived a violent snowstorm. That was the appearance of Briar Rome as he sat on the intolerably cold and hard stool that seemed jutt into his tailbone. His purple eyes that seemed to always give the person staring into them the warm feeling of spring, instead looked dejected, regretful, downcast, miserable, and just plain sad. Briar’s wheat colored hair was like sad damp straw, a victim of the recent and sudden storm that glazed Royal Sword Academy for a few hours. 

His pale hands held a hand larger than his own, the nails were a menacing black that glossed under the light of the infirmary. His eyes trailed up to the person’s pale face, the person had (h/c) hair that was like the clouds in the great big sky and his horns were two skyscrapers that disrupted the beautiful view. His silk-like fringe was brushed to the side to reveal a threatening yet alluring pattern of black scales that started in between his forehead and hairline. The ornate design strangely complemented the boy. He looked at the white robe his friend wore and grimaced, he should have known that he was sick or hurting earlier, when he heard that Lucien was the one who had unconsciously casted the tragic storm while also suffering from his transformation, he felt like a thousand needles had pricked him at the same time.

A light groan felt like the bang of a sudden firework to Briar, it felt like seeing the light at the end of a dark and long tunnel. His breath hitched as if his mind stopped working for a moment and he stood up and shouted for a nurse when he finally had a grasp on what was happening. Like swifts, a pair of nurses entered the room, one ushering Briar out, to his dismay, while the other tended to the now semi-conscious Lucien. 

~

The room was like Antarctica to (M/c), frigid and deathly silent. Her eyes trailed to the imposing figure that sat upon a throne of thorns. Like a paperweight weighing down everyone with a rule of silence, Maleficent observed the court, everybody was here, save for the Crown Prince, he wasn't necessary.

She sat on a throne on the right of her husband while Bellatrix sat beside Maleficent on her left. Her children were separated from their mother as they sat on their respective chairs as the High Court Magician and Supreme General.

"I hope I wasn't the only one who felt it, I'd be disappointed if I was." she haughtily said looking at the court of high ranking nobles

Words of confirmation echoed in the large hall and Maleficent steadily raised her staff and pointed to Renata.

"High Court Magician, elaborate further." 

Renata stood up and explained, "The magic that came across the Valley of Thorns is quite unique." 

Some chatter was heard among the nobles, they weren't really surprised, if anything, they probably weren't listening. Why should they listen to a half-human princess? It was probably through pure luck that she was able to get that position, probably by asking the vile queen.

Renata silently clenched her teeth and sucked it in and continued, "The magic is transforming magic, more specifically, dark fae transformation magic."

Gasps were heard in the court while a noble stood up to object the sayings of the High Court Magician.

"Your Highnesses! How can we be so sure about what she says!"

Renata looked at the man and clicked her tongue, Muave Heighgroove. What a joke, she sat down, deeming it unnecessary to stand up 

"What do you mean?" Malleus said in a hoarse voice 

"Your Highness! We don't know for sure if she is lying."

"Faes can't lie." Malleus says passively 

The fact that the king didn't respond aggressively blew Muave up like a puffer fish with pride. 

"Well, with the princesses being half-"

His claim was cut short by Maleficent who just laughed, no cackled, like a dying goat. She was beyond amused. Maleficent looked Muave straight in the eyes.

"That girl is plenty capable in discerning what magic it was. Honestly, I wonder how you all are part of the royal court."

Clean and swift.

Renata stood up and displayed her utmost gratitude and explained the magic even more.

"The circumstances are very unique when we consider this case, in case you happened to forget, transformation potions and anything regarding transformation is illegal in most kingdoms unless it is their Unique Magic, not in the Valley of Thorns though. But even then, transformation magic, especially for a dark fae transformation, is still hard to obtain here as it's distribution is under the jurisdiction of the Former Queen. So Your Highness, were you the one who gave some without the court's knowledge."

Renata was as cruel as she was realistic, her eyes were gleaming as they stared at the great-grandmother's dragon eyes. She was only stating facts and asking the correct questions to the correct people. A perfect smile was displayed on her face, whether or not the smile had other motives was unknown.

"I see, no I didn't."

"Thank you for answering Your Highness. To be honest that was just a formality, I can say with the nature of the magic, the transformation wasn't necessarily done by a spell or a potion."

"Was it a Unique Magic?" Bellatrix said looking at the magician

"Not necessarily, you can say it was a late metamorphosis. Even so, the nature of this transformation is very unique, it may take months of research before a solid reason is formulated. Of course that's if I don't go there myself."

"!!!" Malleus looked at his daughter, her black hair was perfectly sculpted showing off her scaly pattern on her forehead

"The magic came from the north-west, very likely from the Royal Sword Academy region. So My King, My Queen, allow me to go."

"I will have to decline this request, Head Court Magician." Malleus said exasperated while (M/c) looked at Renata, her dark veil shadowing her features

"I will give my permission." 

Malleus shot a look at (M/c), who only scoffed and said, "It will be beneficial to the Valley of Thorns, if we nurture the transformed, they can do our bidding as a payback for teaching them how to control their powers as a dark fae."

"How will you know that they will be beneficial."

His only answer was a chuckle.

[raeynbowboi]

Dating Disney: The Black Cauldron

The Black Cauldron is a 1985 Grimdark fantasy movie based primarily on the first two novels of the Chronicles of Prydain series by Lloyd Alexander written between 1964-1968. A primary reference and inspiration behind the series being the Mabinogion, a collection of early Celtic myths written in Middle Welsh. The character names also follow a Welsh naming conventions as Fflewdder Fflam uses the “Double F” found in the Welsh language, as a single F by itself makes a [v] sound in the Welsh language. The name Taran is also Welsh, meaning Thunder. So the movie is very neatly rooted in Wales, or Welsh-speaking Albion.

The Mabinogion

The Mabinogion is comprised of 4 main branches recounting Welsh mythology, compiled in the late 12th-13th centuries based on older oral traditions likely dating back to some time between 1050-1225. However, there are many suggestions as to when the stories might date from. (To hear a story from the Mabinogion, check out Red’s summary of Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed.)

Now, you may be wondering “why is there only 1 book on all Welsh mythology?” and I’m glad you hypothetically asked because it’s time to blame the Christians. Seriously, because Celtic mythology is loaded with god-like figures, Christian interpreters when they came to Albion censored or outright destroyed stories that implied that there was more than their God. Figures such as the Irish Tuatha de Dannan, which were godlike ancestral figures, had to be recontexualized as Faeries, Spirits, or Angels in order to avoid censorship by the Christian monks who transcribed these myths. Brigid, a very important Irish goddess, was Christianized into the figure of Saint Bridgette. This was actually an attempt by Christian missionaries to ease the pagans into Christianity. Essentially the mindset of “yeah, you can worship your holy figures, but uh, cut it out with the holy divine aspect. We can’t have that. They’re clearly not as top tier as our God.” 

You may remember from my Sword in the Stone discussion that I mentioned that Rome occupied Albion before Christianity wormed its way in, and you may be wondering, were the Romans this bad? Haha, clearly you underestimate how awful medieval Christians were. No, the Romans just viewed foreign pantheons as extensions of their pantheon. You have a sun god? So do we. It must be the same god with a different name. This is what’s referred to as Interpretatio Romana. So the Celtic Sun God Belenus would be referred to by the Romans as Apollo Belenus. It’s the same god, but the Roman name always came first. Compared to what is known as Interpretatio Christiana, which boils down to ‘you’re worshiping Satan in the form of a false idol. Stop that.’ So, when I say that our lack of written accounts of Welsh mythology is entirely the fault of the Christians, I’m completely sincere in that statement because the Romans didn’t censor Celtic myths or history, only the Christians did.

The Black Cauldron and Mythological Parallels

Prydain

It might sound like a generic fantasy name, but the name Prydain actually comes from the Welsh name for Great Britain, Prydain Fawr. Unfortunately, the term Great Britain dates to 1707. However, Prydain is also the medieval name for the island, as the Welsh never referred to the Island as Albion.

Henwen

Literally meaning “Old White” in Welsh, Henwen is a sow under the care of Coll, a pigkeeper for Dallwyr Dallben. In the Chronicles of Prydain, Coll is a character, but in the Disney film, Taran seems to have absorbed Coll’s role as pigkeeper. However, the fact that he refers to himself as an assistant pigkeeper could still mean that he is ranked below an off-screen Coll. However, the Henwen of Welsh mythology could not predict the future. It was known that Henwen was to birth something terrible, and so she was chased off a cliff into the sea in Cornwall. She survived however and went on to give birth to many unusual things, including a cat, a wolf, an eagle, and a single grain each of wheat, rye, and barley. And three bees. I really wish I was making this up.

Gurgi

Gurgi’s name might take inspiration from Gwrgi Garwlwyd, whose name literally means man-dog rough-grey. He was a warrior in Welsh Arthurian Legend, and was possibly a werewolf. Gwrgi was a monster that killed a man every day, and two on Saturday so he would not kill on Sunday. The Gurgi in the books is far more monstrous looking with horns, but Gurgi in the Disney film retains the dog-like traits of Gwrgi.

The Black Cauldron

Known in Welsh mythology as Pair Dadeni or “the Cauldron of Rebirth”, it is referenced in the second branch of the Mabinogion. Like in the movie, the cauldron has the power to revive the dead, and is destroyed when a living person is thrown into it, in the mythological case, Efnisien pretends to be a corpse and is thrown into the cauldron for revival, causing the cauldron to be destroyed. There are other similar magical cauldrons in Welsh and Irish mythology, including the cauldrons of Arawn and Diwrnach, which would not boil the food of cowards, and Ceriddwen’s Cauldron of Inspiration, which caused those who drank from it to gain infinite wisdom. There is also The Cauldron of the Dagda in Irish mythology. One of the 4 Treasures of the Tuatha de Dannan, the Cauldron of the Dagda was stored in the mythical city of Muirius, and no man would ever leave the cauldron hungry, for it produced infinite food.

The Horned King

In the novels, the Horned King is a minor villain, subjugated to Arawn, God of Death. However, in Welsh mythology, Arawn is not a death god. Rather, Arawn is king of Annwn, the Welsh Otherworld. Aka, the Faerieworld. See, this is another example of Christians mucking up translations and trying to force other religions to reflect Christianity, so Annwn is often treated as the Underworld of Celtic mythology, but considering Pwyll wanders into Annwn completely by accident, I don’t think that’s how it was interpreted in traditional texts. The Horned King may also draw inspiration from the Horned God, Cernunnos. Little is known about Cernunnos due to being a very ancient god, but his role as a horned god of the wilderness has historians guessing that he’s one of the oldest gods or divine archetypes in human history, as ancient horned gods pop up with surprising regularity in older religions: namely Baphomet and Pan. Cernunnos is also sometimes but not always folded in with the figure of the All-Father as a sort of father to all creation in Gallo-Celtic paganism. Cernunnos is often regarded as a god of nature and the wilds, but is also a psychopomp god that guides the dead to the afterlife, and maybe is also a god of death and rebirth as a part of life. Again, this is kind of very uncertain because of just how ancient Cernunnos is, so don’t take this interpretation as law. But despite how uncertain we are about what all this figure represents, he’s a very interesting deity none-the-less, and very likely contributed to the Christian idea of the devil as a horned figure with goat legs. As a seemingly undead creature, the Horned King may draw parallels to a creature known as a Revenant. A creature found in Celtic folklore, a Revenant is a vengeful undead that seeks to torment all life until it has found the person who wronged it while it was alive and exacts its revenge. However, it should be noted that in the books, the Horned King is a living man wearing a horned skull mask, whereas the movie version is very clearly a corpse.

Taran’s Sword

In Welsh mythology, the sword Dyrnwyn belonged to the great king Rhydderch Hael, and when held by a worthy man would glow with fire. In the books, Taran’s sword is indeed referred to as Dyrnwyn. Similarly, alongside the Cauldron of the Dagda, another treasure of the Tuatha de Dannan is the Claiomh Solais or the Sword of Light, housed in the mythical city of Findias. This may also be the mythical origin of Excalibur, though scholars have not made a direct, perfect connection.

Conclusion

With so much of the story pulling from the single source of the Mabinogion, we can boil down the likely setting to around when the stories were written as our general setting. Luckily, we can roughly guestimate to about when the Mabinogion might originate from, and the general look of the movie seems to match with this time setting. So, we’re looking at about 1050-1225, around the time that the stories in the Mabinogion might have started to be told, thus inspiring the events in the film.

Setting: Prydain (Wales/Isle of Britain) Kingdom: Kingdom of Prydain Era: High Middle Ages (1000-1250) Year: 1050-1225 AD Language: Middle Welsh

[takethisroad]

Idk if you're still taking prompts but I'm tipsy and all my heart desires is Jack Rackham just fuckin. Feelin himself. Like he's got a great outfit on, gender expression is optional, he's just feelin beautiful and havin a good time. Bonus for any extra Anne being snarky/supportive, and bonus for VaneRackham because I'm weak for them, but truly anything goes

Listen, I am always taking prompts! Plus, I LOVE THIS. What a wonderful prompt! (I am also combining this with @snooksscribbles request for a “fashion-forward Jack moment” because do we not all love our favourite disaster pirate being at the cutting edge of the latest trends? We do.)

Also, this ficlet comes with its own meme.

Jack is a trans man in this. I am cis; any mistakes or misrepresentations are my fault alone.

Honestly, can we please all take a collective Moment to imagine - they’ve just come into port to refit and celebrate after their latest haul. Evening is falling fast as the sun sinks heavy beneath the choppy waves in the harbour, casting long blue shadows down the dusty streets of Nassau town.

It could be peaceful, if it weren’t for the raucous din coming from the brothel: drunken men, merchants and pirates alike hollering for ale and rum and whores; the jeering, bawdy laughter of onlookers at the gambling tables mixing with the tight high giggles of women pretending to be amused. Later, Jack knows, there will be fighting added to the mix; there always is, when the Ranger crew is ashore, no matter how recent the conquest at sea. Hallett will spit in Old Man Cooper’s drink, or Wilkins will crack one too many jokes about Price’s mum being a goat, and everything will devolve into fists and swords and slaughter until Jack goes down to do his duty as quartermaster, appeasing all the fragile egos and cleaning the mess up again.

But until then, he’s here. The rooms in the brothel aren’t soundproof by any means (and privately Jack thinks Max must like it that way, allowing her to keep a bead on the mood downstairs at any given time) but with the door closed and the room illuminated by the slanting rays of the sinking sun and the candles on the table, he can almost pretend. The flickering candlelight plays over the treasure trove spread across the bed. It is, if not the haul of a lifetime, at least the best haul this month to be sure. (Other men may not think so, but other men don’t have Jack’s flair for fashion.) He runs his hands reverently over the array of fabric: here, the slippery smoothness of a silk-lined waistcoat, there, the fine, airy weave of a muslin shift.

A snort draws his attention up from the pile of clothes to where Anne is holding a satin skirt like it’s a dead animal. “There’s dresses in this,” she says, in the tone of one handling something particularly gruesome or slimy.

“There are,” Jack murmurs in agreement while sizing up a burgundy wool coat. The silver thread used for the embroidery is unraveling in several places, but overall it seems serviceable enough. When he lowers it, Anne is still looking at him.

“You don’t like dresses. Don’t he know that?” Jack nods. “Why’d he give you this, then?”

"I believe he just crammed what he could into the crate,” Jack answers honestly. Then, at her skeptical look: “Darling, please let’s neither of us delude ourselves that Charles Vane would take the time to sort through petticoats and sashes during a raid.”

Anne drops the skirt. “Fine.” She stomps back over to the chair in the corner and flings herself into it, posture insolent as any man’s. Jack’s heart squeezes with almost painful fondness at the sight.

“I wouldn’t have taken it if it truly bothered me,” he says after a moment of her mulish silence. He knows she knows, but still, better to make it explicit. He wants to enjoy tonight and her and Vane at each other’s throats is not on the agenda.

There’s no reply from the chair, but the tight line of her lips eases slightly, which he counts as a victory. He turns his attention back to the clothes. Where to start?

The sun has set completely by the time Jack decides on an outfit. The candles are dripping wax onto the bare wood of the table, but their light is at least good enough to see himself by in the tarnished mirror. He twists one way, then the other, before turning to Anne. “What do you think?”

It’s quite a sight if he does say so himself. The blue silk chemise catches the light and ripples like waves with his every movement. He sheds his baldric to better admire the patterns of small flowers printed at the hems and collar; no expense was spared in this craftsmanship.

Anne has been silent. “Something the matter, darling?”

“No.” Then, a moment later: “Why’re you bothering? Getting all fancy for him?”

Jack pauses where he’d been fiddling with his favourite orange cravat. “For him? No, no this is for me.”

Anne looks at him suspiciously.

“It feels good. Sometimes one does things for no other reason than that.”

Anne stares at him a moment longer, as if parsing the veracity of his statement. She must reach a conclusion because she sighs and stands up. “It brings out your eyes.”

Jack fiddles with his rings to hide the smile her words bring to his lips. It doesn’t bring out his eyes; it does clash horribly with the yellow brocade justacorps he shrugs on. But he recognizes that comment for what it is: Anne, offering support, which is infinitely more wonderful to him than all the silk chemises in the world.

“Thank you,” he says softly. Then, as she heads towards the door, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

She nods once and is gone, leaving Jack alone in the room. He twists to the mirror again, admiring the swish and fall of the fabric, the rakish silhouette it creates. For a moment, he hears the rustling of silk and remembers the same sound, from long ago. He takes a breath and squares his shoulders, reminds himself of the years and oceans between now and then. He is not thirteen anymore, and now he has Anne, who will kill anyone who tries to put him in a dress. Even Charles. The thought is oddly comforting, and Jack whistles to himself as he takes one last indulgent look in the mirror and heads downstairs.

The sun may have gone down but the volume of the tavern has only gone up. Patrons are spilling rum and falling all over each other, turning the courtyard into a heaving mess of unwashed bodies and unintelligible voices. Jack pauses on the landing to take stock, noting the other crews that have since come in: he can see Sully, first mate of the Fortitude, cheating at cards with Joshua from the Walrus crew (he makes a mental note to be well clear of this place before Flint ever hears about it); a dozen other regulars are crowded round the bar, hoping against hope to barter for drinks on the house - more the fool they, for Max runs a tight ship.

The real focus of his attention is sitting in a grey haze of smoke off in a corner, and Jack makes his way down the stairs and through the throng of drunk, sweaty pirates with as much grace as he can muster. If he puts a bit of extra swagger in his walk, well. He's Jack bloody Rackham. He's earned it.

Charles is drinking from a tankard of rum. When he sees Jack, it hits the table with a thump.

"Evening, Charles."

A long slow exhalation of smoke. "Jack."

Jack doesn't shiver at the way Charles says his name, but it's close. He nudges at the toe of Charles' boot where his feet are propped on a chair. "Do you mind?"

In another time, in another life, if Jack were someone else, Charles might remove his feet only to kick the chair over, might spread his legs and leer, might drag Jack into his lap, why don't you have a seat here, sweetheart? This isn't that life. Charles removes his feet, shoves the chair and the rum towards Jack who takes both with a nod. He takes a quick swig of the rum, wincing slightly at the bitter burn.

Charles is still looking at him. His cigar is dangling from his fingers, slowly burning down. "The clothes fit, then?"

"Half of it was non-salvageable," Charles' fingers twitch, "but the pieces that were... Well." Jack gestures to himself. "If the clothes make the man, then I am well-made indeed."

"Huh," Charles says. And then: "You look good."

Plain. Simple. Easy. A statement of fact. It has no business sending a thrilling warmth through Jack's veins, and yet. He allows himself the slightest bit of preening. Then, emboldened by the burn of the rum and the weight of silk and brocade against his skin, "Thanks to you."

Charles has precious few tells but the way his eyes narrow fractionally at Jack's words is one of them. A heavy silence falls between them. Jack sits up straighter, squares his shoulders; he doesn't miss the way Charles' gaze tracks to the hollow of his throat.

"Fuck," Charles hisses, dropping the forgotten cigar which has burned down to his fingers. He crushes the stub under his boot heel and looks back to Jack.

"You know, nice as it is to get some peace and quiet -" Jack is cut off as a chair sails through the air to crash against the opposite wall, quickly followed by its occupant, "I was rather hoping we could do something other than sit and brood at each other all evening."

“Yeah?” Charles is leaning forward now, and Jack’s not even sure he knows it. His voice is a deep rumble. “What’d you have in mind?”

Jack plants a hand on the table, stands up. He’s warm from the rum, half-drunk on the freedom of his new clothes and the intoxicating weight of Charles’ dark gaze that hasn’t left him for a moment. He leans forward into Charles’ space and smiles, all teeth. “Why don’t I show you?”

[dearcat1]

No take-backs adoption

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn, Bleach.

Relationship: Kurosaki Ichigo & Xanxus, Kurosaki Yuzu & Xanxus, Vongola Massimo & Xanxus.

.

Of all things Ichigo had expected when he met a small boy with a baby-sized teacher, this had not been it. A Yakuza boss, maybe if highly unlikely. A mafia one? Well ok, Ichigo has seen stranger, not by much, mind you, but still weirder. A mafia boss of the rainbow, forecast themed mafia? Ichigo didn't see it coming.

Then there was the frankly nonsensical stuff that kept happening around the kid. A battle for jewellery? OK, fine. Why though? But fine. Ichigo can do that. Going to the future and then back? OK. Who's Ichigo to judge? He's invaded two realms. 

Arcolobeno representative tournament or whatever the entire thing is called? Ichigo is 100% behind the reasons. Besides, Reborn is a lot like Urahara. He grows on you, like a fungus, even if the colour theme only really applies to one of them. 

Earth flames? 

By that point, Ichigo is just resigned. Fine, fuck it. Alright, he needs his powers back. 

Surprisingly enough, Ichigo returns to Karakura to find both a solution and a beside himself with worry Urahara. Cute, if creepy. But fine, Ichigo will endure the fussing. 

What he will not endure is the soul reapers happily trying to erase the memories of his new friends. And, he guesses, of the Varia. If only because Tsunayoshi pouts and Ichigo has, maybe, a small soft spot for his sky. A tiny one but it exists.

So he marches himself to Soul Society, the Vongola Tenth Generation and the Varia in tow because they can't see souls damnit and Ichigo can't be everywhere at once. 

He should have seen it coming. Which is probably why he didn't. Staring down at the man who used to be known as Massimo Vongola, Ichigo refuses to tear his hair out. "This," he declares, "explains so much."

Ichigo keeps Xanxus very carefully behind him as he feels a tick starting in his eye. "You are a disgrace to older brothers everywhere!" Slamming his fist on the man's face, Ichigo throws his hands up in the air. "Do I need to do everything myself? Fine! Watch me do it. Watch me!" Turning around to look at the bewildered Xanxus, Ichigo lets his scowl soften a little. "Have you even eaten? Come on, you need to eat." 

The hybrid bets those guardians of his let him drink like a sailor and eat only steak. Ichigo's going to have to fix that. 

Health, people. It matters!

That's how it starts. Thankfully for his newly acquired little brother, Ichigo is now once more able to travel via Garganta. It makes things easier. "Xanxus," Ichigo crosses his arms and tries his best to keep his temper, Xanxus just doesn't know what it means to have a proper older brother, "you won't get steak unless you finish the salad." 

It's probably the surprise that has Xanxus complying. Ichigo knows he has far more fights to look forward into the future but Ichigo is nothing if not stubborn. 

Xanxus is just… confused. Very confused. He has no idea what's happening, actually. Kurosaki used to hate him and now Xanxus can't seem to get rid of him. It doesn't help that Lussuria has joined forces with the kid. Kurosaki is just about everywhere, fussing about Xanxus food and alcohol intake, sleep schedule, even his goddamned feelings. 

The other day, the hybrid ripped Timoteo a new one for being "a bully and a shittier father than even goat-face". Xanxus might have enjoyed that if he wasn't so fucking confused. 

"Look," Xanxus sighs, "you can't be my older brother, kid. You're the same age as me."

Brat rolls his eyes and Xanxus' hand twitches. Giving Xanxus the same soft scowl he's been giving him for months now, Kurosaki snorts. "That's ok, Xanxus," Kurosaki indulges him (that infuriating brat), "but you're still wearing a jacket. I don't care if it ruins your look, you'll get sick and it makes you cranky." 

Xanxus is pretty sure that Squalo will die of laughter and if he doesn't, Xanxus will kill the shark himself. 

And, if a big part of him actually likes the brat's overprotective affection, Xanxus will never let anybody know. Not even when he knows that Kurosaki has noticed just how much Xanxus likes having someone give him home-cooked meals every day and take care of him when he's sick, no matter how impossible he gets. And if, only if, Xanxus finds himself feeling better with Kurosaki around during bad days… Well, he's sure Kurosaki won't say a thing. 

Besides, Karin and Yuzu are nice younger sisters to have. Yuzu is a wonderful soul and Karin is a spitfire Xanxus can appreciate. 

He's, secretly, fine with all of that. 

BONUS:

"Look, Xanxus-nii. You're doing it wrong," Yuzu explains one day, giving Xanxus samples of the new recipe she's trying. "You're not using the younger sibling privileges properly." 

Xanxus blinks, pausing his eating to blink at her. "What?" He's gotten better at the cursing thing, she pouts and Ichigo scowls disappointedly. It sucks. Karin and he are in agreement on that one. 

Yuzu just sighs. "Look sad." 

All Xanxus manages is a scowl. Yuzu, for her part, is looking distinctively miserable and teary-eyed. That's the scene that Ichigo finds when he comes to check-in on them. The man goes instantly soft around the edges with a core of overprotective fury. "What happened?" 

"Oh, Ichi-nii! It was horrible! That old man called and…" 

She doesn't even finish his statement but Ichigo nods anyway, ruffles both Xanxus' and Yuzu's hair and gives them a firm. "I'll handle it." 

Xanxus gets an apology the next day. Hu, he thinks to himself almost gleeful, this is a lot of power indeed.

[gowther-sinoflust]

Alright, here goes.. hope my writing is okay! ✨

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The pinkette took in deep breaths, his hands cuffed behind his back. It took him a moment to register the unfamiliar surroundings, the unfamiliar cold and the unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach.

Currently chained to the wall was none other than the Goat's Sin of Lust, Gowther. Golden eyes searched the dark room's every inch, a door that seemed fit for a prison cell gaining the goat's interest.

The door felt tall and ominous to the lowered sin, and the dread that settled inside of him seemed to tighten his bonds as well. His dread... that was something even Gowther could recognise.

"So? Why did you take him when we ordered you to kill him?" a voice said, agitation evident in their tone.

"What? Isn't it funnier to torture them first?" another voice spoke, a mischievous and amused statement uttered.

Gowther swallowed at the word 'torture', for all he wanted was to go home!

Home; home was where Meliodas would squish Elizabeth's chest, then she would pat his head and laugh, a small blush arising on her cheeks; home was where King got nosebleeds from Diane simply cradling him in her hands; home was where Ban would cook for them and Hawk would get annoyed when he would be interrupted from eating the food said Fox Sin would leave him; home was where Escanor would impress and protect Merlin at all costs, no matter the price. Would they be worried at a time like this? Or did they feel happy he was gone? That, the Goat Sin did not know. But he could only pray that the second was not the honest truth.

The doll flinched as his thoughts were intruded by a loud creak, the door that intrigued him so much swinging open in front of him. It took him a moment to adjust to the new lighting, some familiar faces smirking before him.

Estarossa and Zeldris, two of the Ten Commandments.

"How's it been, traitor? Probably been a good thousand years now, huh?" the silver-haired man spoke, taking the vulnerable victim by the hair.

"Estarossa, what did I order you to do?!"

"Right right, keep him safe until the time comes, I know!"

"Exactly."

With those words the male dropped him, his knees thudding on the floor.

"Anyways, Gowther. We, the Ten Commandments, have an offer to make. We give you your memories and freedom from here, but you are bound to the Ten Commandments as Gowther the Selfless again. This time, you're the real deal, not some stand-in for a prisoner." Zeldris spoke, venom leaking from parts of his speech.

Now what? Betray his home, his family, just for his own gain. When really, he'd just be burying himself in more trouble and confinement, when he'd just be digging himself an early grave despite being a doll.

"Hey kid, we haven't got all day!" Estarossa stated in what the boy could only recognise as annoyance, tapping his foot from impatience.

"Hmm.. no." Gowther replied, even surprising himself at his monotone voice.

"You would reject power from the demon king over something like this?!" Zeldris shouted, his boot connecting with the goat's cheek.

He instinctively tried fighting against the pain and the Commandment causing said pain, but the bindings had other ideas.

"You're a monster like all of us, Gowther! You belong here, not with other stupid traitors!"

Gowther felt something inside of him snap at his words, something the poor boy could not understand no matter how hard he tried.

His glasses had been long forgotten on the floor by now, the blurred red and blacks moving at an unpredictable speed and only confused his vision more.

"Come on, Estarossa. We're done here for now." the deep voice declared, relief flooding the tired and bloody limbs of the live doll.

He felt his glasses be placed carefully on his beaten face, the unreadable expression of Estarossa coming into view.

Said man stood up, following a clearly angry Zeldris out of the room as the door closed with a loud bang.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°• Two days later °•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Gowther started shaking with adrenaline and his current state, his chest feeling more hollow than ever before.

His glasses had been gone again, his head submerged in water supplied to Melascula by none other than Zeldris.

She cackled at his pointless attempts at escape, only pushing the pinkette in deeper.

He felt all life escape him; is this when Melascula finally kills him? His longing to go home was only fuelled by their torture and demands to join them again.

'I may be a lot of things,' he told himself, 'but never again am I to be Gowther the Selfless!'

A gasp came from the girl currently holding his head as she abruptly pulled him from the water, pushing him away from the bucket.

"Stay here, traitor!" she shrieked, running out of the door.

The door.. it was open. The outside, his home was out there! Maybe it was the lack of food and drink, maybe he was just deluded after so long, but he didn't care.

Crawling on all fours, the desperate doll wept, an unknown emotion drawing him to get out.

He couldn't turn off the waterworks as he finally reached the outside of the door, even when the familiar face of King pulled him in for a hug and sat him down on Chastiefol, even when he met up with the others and was taken to the Boar hat by said fairy, even when all the terror was over, he just couldn't stop it.

Everything he saw reminded him of his pain, everything he used to love seemed like a reminder now.

King laid him down on his lap, the duo still atop of Chastiefol.

"Hey Gowther, you're safe now.." the boy said, trying his best to be comforting and an anchor for the doll.

Gowther leant into King's chest, the need for a steady beat to keep him in the present ever-growing.

King's heartbeat was indeed fast, but it fulfilled the Goat Sin's wish.

"I'm gonna kill those bastards, I'm telling you!" King said, a pout on his face.

Gowther felt himself chuckle, the Sloth Sin fiddling with the Lust Sin's hair to distract himself from the pure wrath bubbling inside of him.

Gowther's eyelids grew heavy from the constant anxiety keeping him awake all this time, the doll finally falling asleep in King's hold.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Woah, I really enjoyed writing that! I hope I did your idea justice! ✨✨

[dragon-kazansky]

A rose in shadows - Chapter two

Chapter 2- John's getting married in the morning

John enters the flat after giving Gladstone a nice walk. He lets the dog off his leash once the door is closed behind him and he stand to his feet, tucking the leash away.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

There is no response.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson?"

Still nothing. He goes up stairs and knocks on the door with his cane.

"Holmes? You in there?"

It's silent. He opens the door and lets out an amused laugh as he sees the whole room is surrounded in plants. This is of course Sherlock's doing.

"Your hedge needs trimming." John jokes.

Watson pushes some leaves to the side with his cane and enters the room. There are plants in every direction. He cannot see anything at all.

"Where am I?" He hears an airy whisper through the trees.

"I don't care where you are, as long as you're ready." John comes to an opening and some turkey's gobble to his right. He looks at them.

"I'm waiting." Sherlock's whisper breaks out.

John turns to the window and sees Sherlock looking out the window, or at least, it's supposed to seem like he is. Even John can see it's a dummy in Holmes' clothes.

"I'm not going to play this game. Remember, I have to catch the last-" A dart hits him in the shoulder. John looks over his shoulder to see it, then raises his eyes over to the animals gathering on the opposite of the room. There is a goat with the turkey's now. "-train."

"Oh, that's you dead I'm afraid." Sherlock says.

"You win." John sits down with a newspaper, sounding as unenthusiastic as possible. A parrot flies across the room. John scans the trees for any sign of the mad man. "I lose. Game over."

Sherlock shoots another gun which pierces through the newspaper that John was holding up.

"Still don't see me."

John folds the paper down and looks ahead.

Sherlock laughs and moves away from the wall. He is wearing a full body suit that blends in with the pillar and bookshelf across from where John is sitting. He was very well hidden. He removes the mask when he stands in front of Watson.

John doesn't look impressed.

"I'm not going out with you dressed like that."

"Would you prefer I joined you in the fashion faux pas of wearing fine military dress with that heinous handmade scarf... clearly one of your fiance's early efforts?"

"Oh, how I've missed you, Holmes."

"Have you? Why?" Sherlock leans in close to him. "I've barely noticed your absence. Then again I'm knee-deep in research and I have Y/N for company." He turns his back to John as he looks around the room. "I'm extracting fluids from the adrenal glands of sheep and designing my own urban camouflage. All the while verging on a decisive breakthrough in the single most important case of my career, perhaps of all time." Sherlock leans in again.

The leaves by the door rustle.

"Mrs. Hudson, Y/N, how are you both?"

You follow the landlady into room.

"Oh. Oh, I'm so pleased to see you, Doctor." Mrs Hudson says. "Thank you for inviting me tomorrow."

"And thank you for looking after Gladstone." John stands up to greet you both.

"It's good to see you, John." You step over and smile at him. He returns the favour. You don't miss how Sherlock rolls his eyes beside you both.

"Dear, dear... sickly sweet nanny, might I have a word?" Sherlock takes a step toward Mrs. Hudson. He pulls the cloth which was on the tray Mrs. Hudson was carrying. It reveals mice trapped under a clear case. "Yummy. Fess the snake, woman."

"You feed it."

"Touchy, touchy." He takes the tray from her and backs away slowly.

"Doctor, you must get him to a sanatorium." She pleads with John. You chuckle quietly as you remove the dart from his shoulder. "He's been on a diet of coffee, tobacco, and coca leaves." Mrs. Hudson explains. "He never sleeps." You nod at Watson as he looks at you. "I hear multiple voices as if he's rehearsing a play."

"Leave him to me." John chuckles.

"Don't you have a goat that needs worming?" Sherlock asks, popping up behind Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, how kind of you to remind me." Sarcasm drips from every word. "So much to look forward to. What would I do without you?" She turns and leaves. "Good luck with your patient, Doctor." She calls over her shoulder.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asks.

You look Sherlock dead in the eye.

"He's getting married tomorrow."

John stares at Sherlock.

"Oh! Embrace me." Sherlock pulls him in to an awkward hug, he pulls out the dart which was still in John's back. "Watson's getting married."

"You've lost a few pounds, Holmes."

Sherlock steps back. "Yes, you've picked them up, noshing on Mary's muffins, no doubt." John chuckles. "Pour us a brandy. The stag party has begun!"

"I'll leave you two to it then, shall I?" You chuckle and gather your coat which has been draped round the back of a chair.

"It was good to see you, Y/N." John smiles and kisses your hand before letting you turn to the door.

"Yes, you too. Do try to keep out of trouble Sherlock, and John, don't drink too much." You smile at the boys. Sherlock barely spares a glance your way and John nods at you before looking at his best friend with a furrowed gaze. You leave them be.

 Sherlock disappears behind the curtains that had been drawn closed, closing off the other side of the room.

"It is our last adventure, Watson. I intend to make the most of it."

John opened the curtains and found himself face to face with something completely different from the rest of the room.

Diagrams, maps, photos, newspaper clippings and other notes handwritten by Sherlock himself, were all pinned up on the wall leaving no space at all. Red string was pinned up across each piece, connecting everything one way or another. This is Sherlock's investigation on Moriarty.

"I see you've made good use of my old office." John comments.

"Do you like my spider's web?"

"Is that what you call it?"

"That's what Y/N called it, I just stick to her ideas." Sherlock peeked out from behind the screen he had gone to get changed behind. "Follow that strand."

John follows it.

"Question: What do a scandal involving an Indian cotton tycoon, the overdose of a Chinese opium trader, bombings in Strasbourg and Vienna, and the death of a steel magnate in America all have in common?"

John follows the strands to see they all point to a photo of a man.

"Well, according to your diorama, Professor James Moriarty."

"Indeed."

"Mathematical genius. Celebrated author and lecturer."

"Boxing champion at Cambridge, where he made friends with out current Prime Minister." Sherlock states.

"Do you have any evidence to substantiate your claim?" John asks.

Sherlock chuckles as he steps out from behind the screen. He grabs a strand and follows it down to the wall near him where an article is pinned to the wall.

"This."

John steps over and looks at it. Beside the column was a photo of a man, above read 'DR. HOFFSMANSTAHL'S FATAL HEART ATTACK.'

"Now do you see?" Sherlock asked.

"Dr. Hoffmanstahl's death?"

"Yes. I've heard you speak of him, extolling his virtues." Sherlock says.

"Hoffmanstahl was at the forefront of medical innovations, a true pioneer."

"Just the other day, I averted an explosion that was intended for him."

"Says he died of a heart attack." John looks at the paper.

"Has all my instruction been for naught?" Sherlock looks at John disappointed. If it was you he was talking to, you would have understood right away what he was getting at. In fact you had been. "You still read the official statement and believe it." It's a game, dear man, a shadowy game." Sherlock poured a drink. "We're playing cat and mouse, the professor and I. Cloak and dagger."

"I thought it was spider and fly?" John looked at him and then down at the bottle Sherlock had put down. Formaldehyde.

"I'm not a fly, I'm a cat."

"Not a mouse, but a dagger. You're drinking embalming fluid."

"Yes.  Care for a drop?" Sherlock exhales slowly after drinking from his glass.

"You do seem..."

"Excited?"

"...Manic..."

"I am."

"...Verging on..."

"Ecstatic?"

"...Psychotic. I should've brought you a sedative."

"I'll give mt life to see his demise." Sherlock said. "He must be stopped before his evil machinations come to a crescendo."

"What about Y/N?" John asks.

"What about Y/N?" Sherlock bites back.

"I couldn't help but notice how.... lonely she looked when she left. I thought things were going well for you both?"

"Aren't they?"

"I don't know, Holmes." John furrowed his gaze at his friend and then sighed. "Ans how will he do all this?" It was clear Sherlock wasn't in the mood to talk about you, perhaps you would talk to him later.

"Don't be a dingy bird. Bad people do bad things because they can." Sherlock was more interested in talking about Moriarty right now. "No one, not the victims, the police, the governments, not anyone..."

"Except the great Sherlock Holmes..."

"Correct."

"...On this diet, will work it all out."

"Right."

"Or thereabouts."

"Thereabouts, not quite there."

"Here's to your good health." John raised a glass, filled with alcohol. Sherlock raised what was left of his choice of drink. "Dingy bird."

Gladstone whimpered and them dropped to the floor.

"What have you done to Gladstone now?" John goes over to his beloved dog.

"Ricinus communis. The fruit is highly toxic."

"He's barely breathing."

"What an excellent opportunity. This may be just the thing." Sherlock kneels down beside John and stabs Gladstone with a needle. The dog whines. "Sorry, do you mind terribly if I try my adrenal extract?"

"How many times are you going to kill my dog, Holmes?"

Gladstone barks as he gets up quickly off the floor and scurries off.

"Took off like a monkey from a box. I may need one of those in a few hours."

"Consider it a wedding gift." Sherlock handed over the small roll the extract had been kept in.

John made his way downstairs.

"Watson, might we use an alternative exit?" Sherlock asked. John turned on his heel and faced Sherlock who had dressed after him.

"Is there something different about you?"

"I'm under observation." Sherlock was wearing a long beard and had a pipe in his mouth, his coat was old and scruffy.

"As you should be."

"You drive."

Both men left through a different door.

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[lgbtqiahistoricalromance]

LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels for Winter, Hanukkah, Solstice, and Christmas 2019 - Updated Dec 17th!


A Very Surrey SFS Christmas by Nicola Davidson (m/f, m/m, f/f, bisexual, and poly)

- Welcome to the Surrey Sexual Freedom Society - where unconventional and uninhibited ladies and gentlemen discuss all matters erotic…


It’s Christmastide in Surrey, and the Society members have gathered at Lady Portia and Denham’s estate to host a magnificent masked ball. Alas, not everything is going quite to plan, as a curmudgeonly duke, England’s naughtiest cat, a viscount with writer’s block, two newborns, and some colorful local residents conspire to turn order into chaos. But with those you love all things are possible, and it wouldn’t be A Very Surrey SFS Christmas without madcap mischief, banter, and a whole lot of wicked fun…

This series of extended epilogues include Beatrice and Amelia, Madeline and Ethan, Clayton, Susanna, and Joseph, Lady Portia and Denham, and Fairfield.
Please note this book contains explicit language and sexual content.

Peter Cratchit’s Christmas by Drew Marvin Fraye

- Peter Cratchit, a young lad preparing to make his way in the world, is the eldest son of Scrooge’s lowly clerk Bob Cratchit. Peter flourishes under the tutelage of his “Uncle” Scrooge and seeks to make his mark as a man of business, like his uncle before him.

One Christmas Eve, as Scrooge lays dying, Peter embarks on a risky ocean voyage that he believes will secure the future for his family. Onboard, Peter finds love, happiness, and success, only to lose it all by the voyage’s end. Returning to London, Peter shuns his family and instead finds himself living on the streets, haunted by his failures and his dead lover, selling his body just to survive while he waits for the winter cold to claim him once and for all.

But winter snows also mean Christmas is coming, and for the Cratchit family, Christmas is a time of miracles. Can a visit from three familiar spirits change Peter’s life again? Is there one more miracle in store for the lost son of one of Dickens’ most enduring families?

Yuletide Treasure by Eliot Grayson

- There’s not enough Yuletide spirit in the world to fix this holiday disaster…

Eben Sypeman’s world is falling apart. It’s two days before Yule and his business partner is dead, leaving behind empty accounts and looming bankruptcy. And if that isn’t bad enough, his patron goddess is irritated with him. It seems she’s tired of his tendency to mince words and avoid conflict. She’s insisting—quite forcefully—that he start being totally honest with everyone, including himself. Divinely enforced honesty couldn’t have come at a less opportune time, especially when his clerk’s tall, dark and distractingly handsome son enters the picture.

The last thing on Tim Pratchett’s mind is romance. All the former soldier wants is to fill in for his sick father at work and recover from his war wounds in peace. But there’s something about the grumpy Eben that confounds and entices him in equal measure. Their timing couldn’t be worse. They’re complete opposites. And yet … none of that matters when he’s with Eben.

But if Eben and Tim have any hope of finding their very own happily ever after, they’ll have to survive a dickens of a truth curse and the machinations of a trickster goddess—all while searching for enough yuletide treasure to save them all.

A joyous, relaxing Yule indeed. Bah, humbug.

This is an M/M romance with explicit scenes, a voyeuristic pagan goddess, and an odious nephew. Despite any other possible similarities to A Christmas Carol, there are neither ghosts nor geese, but readers can expect a happy ending and at least one use of the word “dickens.”

The Stonecutter Earl’s First Christmas by Adella Harris

- Nathan Fitzroy hates the holidays. Estranged from his family for refusing to marry, he’s still expected to keep up appearances, which means attending their holiday celebrations. And that means that, from the beginning of December until the middle of January, he needs to find work that will let him take off almost as many days as he works there. For him, that means working at a molly house called the Goat’s Horn.

Owen Landon was quite content to be a stone cutter. It was what he’d trained for, and it earned him enough money to pay his brother’s school fees and still live comfortably enough in a cottage in their village. He’d always been told his father was distantly related to nobility, but he’d never thought much of it, until a solicitor came to tell him he was the new Earl of Morebrook, a position he has no idea how to fill.

One night in December, when Owen can’t stand his new role another moment, he sneaks away to the seediest molly house he can find, the Goat’s Horn, for a distraction. And find one he does, a beautiful fellow with just the accent and bearing he’s supposed to be learning. When he sees the man again away from the molly house, he comes up with a plan to both spend more time with him and learn to be an earl. Owen offers him a position tutoring him before the start of the Christmas parties he’s supposed to attend.

Nathan’s worst nightmare comes true when one of the clients of the Goat’s Horn recognizes him outside of the molly house. But the man offers him a position that will allow him to earn money away from the Goat’s Horn until Christmas. If only he can remember he’s supposed to be tutoring the fellow, not bedding him, and certainly not falling in love with him. A steamy Christmas romance with hints of Pygmalion.

Approx. 50,000 words, 200 pages

Tinsel and Spruce Needles holiday series by Elna Holst (f/f and f/non binary MCs, MCs with disabilities !!!!!)

Candlelight Kisses

- Malmö, Sweden, 1994 Erika Stolt is a feminist activist, and not one of the slick, lipstick lesbian variety. She’s the kind who trashes beauty contests, who graffitis her own subversive messages over commercial billboards, and who fucks people mainly as a political statement. But then a community service sentence lands her a spot as the unlikely new assistant of one of the candidates for the Malmö Lucia contest, and the world as she knows it is promptly turned on its head.

Little X

- Malmö, Sweden, 1996 Sofie Andersson is a dyslectic born under the star sign Aries, who drives the local buses for a living. Her hobbies include knitting terrible hats and intermittent lesbianism. This December she is on the point of moving into her first flat of her own, figuring out her place in the world, when an instant attraction to a handsome stranger leads her to question everything she’s taken for granted.

Wild Bells

- Lund, Sweden, 1998 Mia Andersson is not a nice person. She is a sharp, sensational-looking, aloof lawyer-to-be, and the busiest sapphic player in town. Mia Andersson takes no prisoners, tells no tales, and if you gave her your number, chances are she won’t call. But this holiday season, at age twenty-seven, wheels that are out of her control have been set in motion, and it looks like she might just get caught in the spin.

February and December: Dominus Calendar Series I (Volume 1) by JP Kenwood

- As a lifelong passion continues to fade, another love deepens… two stand-alone m/m stories of love, lust, and friendship in ancient Rome featuring characters from JP Kenwood's Dominus series. February: Home from the first war against the kingdom of Dacia, Gaius Fabius ignores his obligations in Rome and returns to his secluded seaside villa in southern Italy. Under the pretense of a holiday trip, his best friend and secret lover, Lucius Petronius, surprises him with an unexpected visit. Later that evening, the lusty masters share the delights of Gaius’s blond pleasure slave, Nicomedes. December: With whispers of an embezzlement scandal floating through the capital, Lucius Petronius and his beloved concubine, Bryaxis, celebrate the raucous winter solstice festival of the Saturnalia with Luc’s family. After a joy-filled evening of food, gifts, and stories, Lucius and Bryaxis reverse roles in the master chamber. Warnings for explicit language, filthy loving, and daft shenanigans.

Christmas for a Vampire by Ruby Moone - Because even Vampires deserve a second chance.

Companion story to The Christmas Curse.

Recently turned vampire Ellis Davenport faces another dismal Christmas. His new life is filled with riches but is cold, lonely, and empty. Refusing to acknowledge his vampire self or to participate in any kind of vampire society, he skirts the edges of that world and has done so since the man he loved chose death rather than spend eternity with him.
As far as Ellis is concerned, Quinn Fordham died on the battlefield in Badajoz. But, as he circulates at yet another tedious Christmas party, he hears piano music, someone playing the Moonlight Sonata like Quinn used to play for him. Entranced, he finds his lover but just as their lips touch, Quinn disappears.
Before Ellis has time to resolve this odd hallucination, he and his friend Trent sense the approach of Lord Heath, their vampire sire. Yet, before their sire arrives, Ellis is stunned to find Quinn not only alive, but a vampire, and furiously angry with him. Can they move beyond the lie that separated them and find each other again?

Dances Long Forgotten by Ruby Moone - Coming December 19th! Per Ruby: Ghosts of past romance Second chance love Gentlemen dancing with gentlemen Long buried family secrets

On Christmas Eve, Dylan, the man of James Pell-Charnley’s dreams, is on the point of walking out. Then they hear the faint strains of a waltz in the library of the empty abbey. The music is said to be heard only by those truly in love, and it gives James the courage to tell Dylan the story.

In December 1841, Lord Hugo Pell-Charnley is in a terrible mess. The youngest son of the late Marquis, youngest brother of the incumbent, never felt to fit. When his life comes crashing down, and his life and his family are threatened, he is forced to face his elder brother and confess his deepest secret. When he arrives at Winsford Abbey he finds he must also confront the shame from his past in the form of Lyndon Cross. The boy he’d loved but betrayed in school. As they clear the ghosts from the past, they dance in each other’s arms in the library to the soft strains of the waltz, but long buried secrets threaten to destroy their happiness.

Two hundred years later, can those dances long forgotten give James and Dylan the courage to hold on to love?

Hither, Page by Cat Sebastian

- A jaded spy and a shell shocked country doctor team up to solve a murder in postwar England.

James Sommers returned from the war with his nerves in tatters. All he wants is to retreat to the quiet village of his childhood and enjoy the boring, predictable life of a country doctor. The last thing in the world he needs is a handsome stranger who seems to be mixed up with the first violent death the village has seen in years. It certainly doesn’t help that this stranger is the first person James has wanted to touch since before the war.

The war may be over for the rest of the world, but Leo Page is still busy doing the dirty work for one of the more disreputable branches of the intelligence service. When his boss orders him to cover up a murder, Leo isn’t expecting to be sent to a sleepy village. After a week of helping old ladies wind balls of yarn and flirting with a handsome doctor, Leo is in danger of forgetting what he really is and why he’s there. He’s in danger of feeling things he has no business feeling. A person who burns his identity after every job can’t set down roots. As he starts to untangle the mess of secrets and lies that lurk behind the lace curtains of even the most peaceful-seeming of villages, Leo realizes that the truths he’s about to uncover will affect his future and those of the man he’s growing to care about.

If anything else becomes available, this list will be updated, and the date listed at the top–after the post title.

A Christmas Cotillion by Ellie Thomas

- England, 1820. Bachelor Jonathan Cavendish has become reclusive in the years following a failed romance with the love of his life. In the years following their split, he has thrown all his energy into restoring the small estate he inherited from a great uncle and has put aside any thoughts of romance. Although he’d rather remain at home alone for the festive season, this year he’s accompanying his cousin Freddy to a Christmas country house party. Freddie seems to be constantly falling in love and, on this occasion, he is infatuated with a young lady called Belinda. Jonathan is asked by Freddy’s anxious mother to accompany him to the house party to keep an eye on the situation, in case the young lady turns out to be an unsuitable choice. Despite this inauspicious beginning, Jonathan catches the eye of Nick, the handsome son of a local well-to-do farmer, who is a constant presence at the holiday entertainments. Nick is intrigued by Jonathan’s kindness and also by the sadness he hides from public view. The initial attraction between the men seems to be mutual, but can Nick break through Jonathan’s defences and teach him to love again?

2018′s More Extensive List

[thealternateuniverse]

AT MY BEST

mgkxreader

Word Count: 4413 

WARNINGS: smut, language and drugs 

If you wanted to be tagged please let me know. :))

"Baze pass me the joint!" I admit, I'm pretty drunk and I'll start to lose my shit any minute from now. My cousin Baze tag me along tonight, its suppose to be a boy's night out but nah I don't mind they can have their fun. I'm no stranger to them. We're in Andrei's house. These guys are my childhood friend, wrong they are my brothers and we're reunited after 4 years? I think. I've been in Ireland for too long and now I'm back to my roots. "Yo Y/N! Are Irish girls hot?" Slim asked and everyone starts laughing. I flip him off and chug down the vodka in my cup. I smoked the joint Baze handed me. Ah I miss these. Chill night with the gang. "Yo seriously. You look like them. What made you color your hair red? You look like a fuuucking idiot." Then Slim laughed sounding like a goat in labor. "Shut up fucker." My only response. I know they missed me that's why I'm their target tonight. And Slim is the leader of the pack. "Kells is on his way here." Rook said while looking at his phone. "Who's Kells?" Everyone fell silent as if I said something wrong. "What? Did I say something wrong?" Slim look at me in disbelief and laughed like a goat again. This dude is high I'm sure of that. "Really? You don't know who's Kells? Dang girl it's Colson." The fuck? Colson? Since when did he become Kells? Rook must have read my confusion.  "It' his screen name Machine Gun Kelly. Kells for short." I don't know if it's the alcohol or the shroom but I laugh so hard. "What the---- hahahaha as in Colson Baker is Machine Gun Kelly?" They look at me weirdly, like I'm some kind of alien. "Dude you don't know? He's famous." I shut up. Colson really made it. He is successful now. "What did Ireland do to you?" I just shook my head. I can't think of any comeback cause my head is somewhere in space and everything looks sharp. I guess the shroom is having it's effect on me. "What's up fuckers!" That deep voice vibrated all over the room. Colson. "Ayo man. Finally." The boys did their handshake until his eyes landed on me. "Y/N? What the fuck?! Dude you're here!" I got up from the couch and he embrace me in a tight bear hug. "Dude I fuckin miss you." I felt dizzy when he let go of me so I hold on to his arm. "You okay?" He holds my wrist and look at me. I nodded as a response. "Yeah." I sat down on the couch again, eyes felt heavy and mind flying somewhere. They converse about work, which I could not relate so I just listen and nods whenever they ask me something. "Yeah, why don't we talk about our Irish lady here." All eyes are on me again. "Seriously dude. We missed you. The good shit and such when you are here."

Back when we were bunch of idiots we used to hang at Ashleigh's place. She's the only one who has a decent home to stay and live in, and her mom was kind enough to let us stay especially Colson. "Yeah I missed you too." I drink from my cup and my gaze landed on Colson who is looking at me too. "What?" I asked, my brow raising. "Nothing. I'm just appreciating the changes." I shrug. My hair is red for a year and I'm planning to dye it black. "Whatever Colson."  I rolled my eyes while giggling. It was unintentional though.

We are all catching up. Especially me, since they missed the 4 years of my life and me missing the 4 hollywood glamour of their lives too. It's all sex drugs and rock and roll. I'm just hoping it won't get the best of them. "Daaaamn. We're really getting old. Next thing we knew Casie's walking down the aisle while Colson's crying." Colson almost choke on his drink after Baze said that. "Not happening Baze. No boys for my baby girl until I said so." Oh yeah Casie. Colson's daughter. That girl is turning to a lady and that will make Colson grow 10 years because of headache. The kid is beautiful and for sure boys will be chasing her. I wish she could spend more time with us whenever she's in Ireland. "Of course. Look at Y/N, we're so protective of her that 'til now she's single." I want to kick Dubo's shin for blurting out to everyone that I'm still single. "You're still single?" Colson asks. I can't help but blush, nothing's wrong about being single but talking about my romantic life with these idiots is like telling them that I shit in my pants and the teasing will never stop after that. "Well, it's our fault. We never let a guy come near you before. " Slim confessed. It didn't shock me though cause the guys who wanta to date me before told me that these idiots scared them or bribe them. Atleast I knew that they aren't men enough to be scared by my friends. "I don't mind though. I suck at dates." Through my peripheral, I see Colson smirked. I rolled my eyes at him. "And you have a bad taste when it comes to men." He added. I scoffed. If he only knew. Indeed I have bad taste.

We continue chatting and some of the guys are already drunk or high. I too is drunk. I stood up to went to the bathroom but everything seems spinning. With my high and drunken state I look for the bathroom. I found  it in a hallway to the kitchen but when I opened the door Baze is in there doing some porno. "Fuck. I'm sorry, don't mind me so proceed." I didn't wait for their answer and close the door. Damn I have to see that. I can't help but giggle, ironic I did that before too. I search for another available bathroom upstairs and I trip in every step. My body felt heavy so I crawled until I ended up in a room. Guest room I think? "Damn it." My vision is blurry but I managed to reach the bathroom and puked my brains out. "Fucking vodka." I wipe my mouth before puking again. Oh god, I never puke before. I felt a hand massaging my back and I turn to see who it is. Colson. "Alcohol is a bitch."

COLSON

"Fuck. Y/N saw me fucking in the bathroom." Baze came from god knows where while zipping his pants a girl clinging on his arm. Mod Sun laughed. "That cousin of yours is hot." Baze threw his cup at Mod. "You're not hitting her." Y/N changed a lot, physically. I mean it's good maybe I'm not just used to since we haven't seen each other for 4 years.

I don't know why she left, everything was okay back then. But I guess it's better that we separate ways, look at us I made it to Hollywood, she's fine and we're all good. "Yo Colson! You're awfully quiet today." Actually I'm high already. Not drunk but high. I smoked two in the studio before getting here. "Nah. I'm good. Where's Y/N?" I search the room if there's any sign of Y/N. "Maybe she went into another bathroom, one with no one fucking." Everyone laughed even Baze at Drei's statement. "Seriously tho, you and Y/N are good?" This is the question I've been dreading. Me and Y/N are good but awkard so I'm avoiding their attention by remaining silent. "You know what. Stop dicking around and tell her what you feel." I was taken aback. How the hell did Slim knew when I didn't tell anyone about it. It's so hard to act cool whenever she's around. So I didn't tell anyone and it's better if it remains tgat way and I won't lose her.  "Tell her what?" Acting as if I don't know something will do me no good. Action speaks louder than words. "Go on Colson. Deny it, next thing you knew she already have someone who's not scared to admit his feelings." I clenched my jaw at the thought that Y/N is with someone who's not me, us. "Hell yeah, we got you bro." Rook taps my shoulder. I stood up from my seat and look for Y/N. I went upstairs and search each room for her and I found her on the left wing puking her guts out in a bathroom. I immediately attended her and rubs her back. When she's done she turns around and look at me with droopy eyes. "Alcohol is a bitch." She wipes her mouth and leans on the wall. "Goddamn I need a bed." Y/N close her eyes. The alcohol and weed must have hit on her. "Hey hey, stay with me, I'll put you to bed." I held her arm but she flinch. "Don't fucking touch me Colson. I wanna fucking beat you right now." Since she's drunk I didn't mind what she said. I grab her arm again but Y/N clung on my neck and buried her face on my chest. "I thought you wanna beat me?" I held her waist to support her weight cause she looks like she's about to melt. "Shut up. I hate you." Maybe it's just her drunk self hating me. Everyone's her enemy whenever she's drunk. "Why do you hate me?" I decided to ride along with her craziness. "Cause you're a fucking asshole?" She mumbled almost hakf asleep. "And you love this asshole?" I couldn't hide my smirk. She probably won't remember this tomorrow. "Of course I love you..........and Rookie, and Slim, and Baze, and Casie.....I love EST fam." She look up to me with a smirk. Damn, she played well. "How about me? I mean only me?" She freed herself and sat on the counter, I moved forward a bit so I can be in between her legs. Y/N leans her head on my chest again. "I hate you. But I hate that I don't hate you at all. I wish you would meet Chase." Who the fuck is Chase? Is he her boyfriend? Am I too late? The fuck the boys were right, I should've told her earlier. "Who's Chase?" I rub Y/N's back, soothing her. "He's.........I love him. But I wish you would love him too." My heart began to race and I am now confuse. I held her face and look at her straight in the eye. "Y/N, tell me who's Chase?" Her eyes are all droopy and red but managed to return the look I gave her. "He's your fucking son. Happy?" Suddenly I am the one whose high. Everything around blurred and Y/N's word echoes. He's your fucking son. I have another kid. I have another kid, with her. I had a fucking kid with her and I didn't knew. I didn't even knew something happened between us. "H-how? We didn't even....." A lot of questions are running in my head but  that's the only thing came out. I am loss for words right now. "Of course you don't remember. You were so doped up with drugs that you almost raped a fan but being the good friend I am I came to the rescue and....." I think I knew what happened next. "I had sex with you instead." I finish her sentence. "I can't fucking blame you because I was the one who's sober. And God..... why did I let it happened." I didn't expect my night to be like this especially she just got back from overseas. And her confession infuriates me. "Why did you not tell me?" I want to punch myself for doing that to her. I blow every fucking chance. I took a good thing and fuck it all up in one fucking night. "I fucking loved you asshole! We were both a fucking mess. I was with you during your worst, sex drugs, rock and roll, fame is getting on you then you got me pregnant, I wasn't ready and......How can we raise a child if we're like that?! One of us has to sober up so that we won't end up hurting ourselves and the child. Funny how one night can change life forever." Y/N broke down into tears. She fucking love me. She said she fucking love me. I wish she's sober right now cause I'm not believing what's happening. She went through all this alone and I hate myself for that. I was dicking around when she was suffering alone in that goddamn country. "I'm sorry Y/N.....I -I didn't knew." I wipe her tears and rubs her back while kissing her head. "It's my fault. I never told you." I hushed her, but tears still streaming down her face. I am so angry right now, to myself, to what happened. I feel like shit for being a dick. Now I have a son whose growing up not knowing his father. It's an awful situation cause I grew up without a mother too. I may be an asshole but I won't let a kid running around not knowing me especially if it's mine. "Let's get you to bed. You're drunk." I carried her out and brought her to my room. I laid Y/N on my bed and undress her after. As if I've never seen her naked before. I dress her with one of my shirts then cover her with a blanket. Kissing her head I left the room and went back downstairs. Everyone seems to chill now. "Yo dude. Is Y/N okay?" Baze asks. He was caught off guard when I lounge him and held the collar of his shirt. "Why the fuck you didn't tell me?!" Slim, Rook and Drei went to the rescue to ease the tension. "Ayo, Kells chill. What the fuck is going on?" Slim held me back while Drei is pulling Baze from my grasp. "Man. It was her decision, and I won't intervene on whatever's going on between you two. I didn't know how did you even got her pregnant when you were busy fucking around." My blood boils and Baze's words fuelled my anger. I was about to attack him again but Slim blocked me. "What the fuck Kells? You had a child? With Y/N?!" Everyone fell silent. "Yeah." Rook was the first one to speak. "No shit. How old is the child?" I don't want my son to estranged me, it was hard before when I had Casie. "Probably 3. Who else fucking knew? Could've told me I had another kid." I glared at Baze. "Ashleigh fucking knew." Baze answered. Damn it Ashleigh. "But she just found out when Y/N called before going back here." Didn't they even thought that it was my child who's growing up not knowing his father?! "Yeah. Whatever. Thanks for the info. Gotta go."

I grabbed my keys and left. I need to fucking think.

Y/N's FUCKING POV

I woke up with wave of nausea. My head hurt like it was hit by a ton of bricks. I opened my eyes just tk realized I'm not in Baze's house and I'm not wearing my clothes. I couldn't even remember what happened last night. The last thing I remember was Colson helping me threw up. Guess this is his clothes I'm wearing base on it's size.

I look at the clock and it's 2 in the afternoon. Damn I was that passed out? I opened the closet searching for a sweatpants or short. Fuck that 6'4 height of his. I look like a sack. Blame my 5'8 height. I settled on his shorts because it's the only bottom I look human. I don't want parading around the house with only my panties on. I went downstairs to see if someone's here. Slim is in the kitchen looking like a bitch. Looks like he hadn't sleep yet. "Slim where is everyone?" Slim jumped a little, surprised by my presence. I giggled and I sat down to one of the chairs in the counter. He served me a plate of pasta which I heavenly feasted. "Out. With Colson." Had they sleep yet? "Where are they going?" I munch all in the plate while listening to Slim. "Out, having some quality time with his son." I choked on my food. I coughed, It feels like the pasta stucked in my throat and wants to go out in my nose. Slim handed me a water. "T-thanks. What do you mean son?" My heart started to hammer. "Oh? I thought Colson's the one who didn't knew he had a child. Seems like you forgot." I feel like all the Colors in my face drained. Impossible. I have blurted out everything last night! Stupid! Colson already knew. I won't get away this time. Slim taps my shoulder. "You know we're here for you Y/N."  Slim said sincerely. I sighed feeling guilty. I feel like a bitch for not telling Colson, he deserves to know, it's his right. "I was just so scared Slim. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't ready and I don't know how to raise a child." A tear fell. It's all out now. "You two should talk." Just in time the living room is filled with noise. They're here. Anxiety building up inside me, Colson is here and I don't know how to act. I heard the small giggles and that little voice of a child approaching. "Look who's hereeee..." Chase's blue orbs widened when he saw me. But I almost cry at the sight because Colson is carrying him. "Mumm..." Chase wiggled and Colson put him down. He ran towards me. "Baby......mommy missed you." I held Chase, embracing him in a tight hug while I gave him kisses. "Ash! Can you get Chase here first. Y/N and I, need to talk."

A shiver went down to my spine. This is it. And by the looks of it Colson is not happy, he keeps a neutral face except when he holds Chase. Ash went to here in the kitchen and took Chase. I gave her a reassuring smile and went back to the living room.

"In my room now." He didn't let me answer and immediately went to his room upstairs. I followed him. I got into his room and locked the door.

"Colson I'm so sorry I didn't tell you---" Colson turned to face me and his eyes is at it's darkest shade of blue.

"Take off your shirt now." My jaw dropped. I am confused, we are in a serious situation and he wants my shirt off? I followed his orders and take off my shirt exposing my bust in lacy bra. "I don't know what this is bu---" he didn't let me finish my sentence again. "Strip all your clothes." My eyes widened this time. "Colson what the fuck are you up to?!" Is he insane? "Are you going to do it? Or let me do the honor?" I gulp. He is serious. I strip all the remaining clothes leaving my underwears. Damn good thing I have everything lasered. "Do you know how frustrating all this is?" He moves forward. I move backward. I am so scared of him right now, excited at the same time I don't knkw if he's high or what. "Leaving without saying goodbye, showing up again after years and told me that we had a son." I keep moving backwards until I hit the wall, Colson trapping me with both arms. "You know how frustrating it is you left me hanging?" His fingers ran through my sides giving me shiver. He hooked one of his fingers to the strap of bra. He lowered his head on my ear. "You know how frustrating it is when I am fucking someone but it's your face I see." He whispered. I bit my lip from the sensation. "You are not getting away this time Y/N." He licks my ear and kisses my jaw reaching my lips. I respond to his kisses but Colson suddenly pulled away. What the fuck. "I don't forgive easily babe." He unbuckled his belt with one hand while the other was holding both of my wrist already. I was so drown in his charms that he already held my wrists.  He tied the belt around and held both of my hands up. "My rules." Colson dipped his head on my neck sucking it making sure it will leave marks after. I bit my lip hard, holding myself back not to let out a moan. "I am so angry that I want to fuck you so bad. So dirty." I clung both my arms to his neck initiating the kiss rubbing myself against him, being the fucktard he is he pulled away again. I can feel his boner poking to my stomach, that's it go hard for me asshole. "A-ah, what did I say? My rules. Now behave." Colson slammed me to the wall and kiss me hungrily, it wasn't gentle at all, seems like he's venting out all his anger. My lips will be swollen after this. I kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, it's my inner dominant self taking over. He grabs my ass lifting me and I gladly wrap my legs around his waist. "Bad huh. " He smacks my ass throwing me to his bed. "You're all talk Colson. Just fuck me." I don't know where my confidence came from but that made him smirk, grabbing my legs and pull me to the edge of the bed. I know I hit his ego and now he's more aggressive. I pulled him towards me, clinging on to his neck, kissing him passionately and less angry than earlier. He ripped my panties off and throw it god knows where the same aith my bra. "What the fuck! That was la perla!" He insert 2 of his finger making me gasp. "I can fucking buy you a hundred pair of those. Now moan." Biting my lip didn't help at all, I let out a slutty moan feeling his fingers inside me. "Damn look at that so wet for me." He trailed kisses from my thighs to my belly button adding speed to his pace. I rolled my eyes back from the sensation fuck his fingers feels good, I want them in all day. "God dammit you're mine." He kisses me again and lowering it to the valley of my breasts. "Did you feel like this when we did it Y/N?" He added another finger causing me to moan louder. "I----fuck it." He remove all his fingers. "Fuck give it to me Colson!" The bastard just smirked unbuttoning his pants and taking off his shirt. "Say it, or you won't getting this." He took off his pants leaving his ethika boxers, his XXX tattoo and boner peeking. I have the same tatto on my belly button. "Yes you fuck so good!" His eyes turned darker, taking off his boxers his dick sprang out in it's fullest hard form. My eyes glued to God's gift to women not believing it fit inside me years ago. "Give me a head sweetheart." I don't know but his words are like spells that makes me follow him. Colson moved forward, I grab his dick running my hands up ad down. I lick the tip of his dick which earned him a groan, falling his head back. I started to bob my head up and down, taking him all within my reach.  He grabs my hair guiding my head. "Fuck. You're doing good baby." Colson breaths heavily, he couldn't take it anymore he pulls me up and lay me down to bed placing himself above me. He kissed my head before kissing my lips feeling him entered me. I gasped. It was painful, it feels like giving birth. A tear rolled down my cheek but Colson was quick to kiss it away. "I got you baby." He let me adjust to his size before moving slowly. I moaned, not feeling pain but pleasure instead, making me scratch hard his back while my other hand grips his hair. Colson groaned speeding up his pace and my moans are getting louder. "Colson......oh my god. Don't stop." I arch my back and wrap my thighs around his waist tightly giving him more access. "Fuck Y/N you're so tight." Colson pulled out and I swear I wan't to cut his balls. He flip me off, now my ass is facing him. He entered me again without warning and it feels damn good in this position. I moaned out loud not giving a damn if somebody hears me. Colson gripped my waist tight continue slamming himself. We're both panting as our bodies slapped against each other, sweats dripping, and lust feeding us both. Colson knows what he's hitting and it made me see the heavens and galaxies. "Colson I'm c-cumming." I said through heavy breaths. He lowered himself and bit my earlobe. "Come for me baby." My walls clenched around him, tension building from my stomach until my orgasm hits. Colson didn't stop he speeds up instead and moments later he came, spilling his essence inside me. "Fuck." He lets out a groan while still inside me riding out his orgasm. We stayed in that position for a minute and laid beside me after. I moved and laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I'm sorry." I pressed a soft kiss of his jaw before kissing him on the lips. "I love you." I jolted up from the bed covering myself with a blanket. He just blurted out those 3 words. "Shit. Don't freak out." He also got up from the bed but only on the edge. "Fuck Y/N! I fucking love you okay? Since the day we stole a weed from your dad." I couldn't help but cry. I straddled Colson's lap and kissed him hard. "You asshole." Colson kissed me again his hands on my waist. "Round 2?" The bastard grins wiggling his eyebrows. "I fucking love you asshole even though you're the worst."