#sorry that the lighting isn’t consistent its hard to get a good picture with this thing

[grapemoon]

No blood version under the cut lol. Dsaf 2 is really funny to me

[seiyasabi]

Idolised

(Here’s a Yandere Todo Aoi x Female Reader story :P I wrote up the layout for this a while ago, and I’m currently madly in love w him, so here we are! 

Thank you all so much for your support and being so understanding of my situation. I love you all so much ;)

TW: !noncon/dubcon!, !Has a whole ass shrine dedicated to you, you literally don’t know he exists lmao, !claims he's ur bf to everyone, manipulation!, intimidation!, sort of kidnapping!, !forced cunnilingus!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution!)

“(Your Name)-Chan, why didn’t you tell us that you have a boyfriend?” You slowly stop chewing, chopsticks going slack in your hand. Eyes darting towards your friend Mika, you raise an unamused eyebrow. 

“What are you talking about, Mika-Chan? I don’t have a boyfriend,” All of your girlfriends look at each other, unbelieving of your claim. All giggle, thinking that you’re just being shy. 

“Ne~ don’t be coy! It’s okay to tell us about your boyfriend! From the pictures I’ve seen, he’s quite handsome, huh?” At this point, you’re completely confused. Are they pranking you? You don’t have a boyfriend! 

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about-“ The seat next to you slides out, and a hulking figure plops itself down on the wooden chair, the wood creaking horrifically underneath their weight. 

Their arm wraps around the back of your own chair, practically engulfing you in the crook of their enormous elbow, “Hey, Pretty Girl. I’m sorry that I’m late, you know how late my classes run sometimes.” 

You’re too scared to even turn towards the large man, choosing instead to look at your friends with a horrified expression. They don’t notice it, too busy ogling at the apparent eye candy next to you, “Uhm, I’m sorry, but who are you? And why do they think that you’re my boyfriend?” An awkward silence immediately follows after, the man’s hand gripping the wood behind you so hard that it creaks. 

He forces a deep laugh, which sounds quite menacing. He moves his hand onto your back, his warm palm felt through your stylish top, “You’re so funny, (Nickname)-Chan! It’s alright, you don’t need to hide me anymore. I messaged your girls last week, they know about us.” 

“Yeah, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We think you’re both so adorable,” They practically fawn over the two of you, trying to push you closer into each other’s arms. The man next to you takes this in stride, practically hauling your chair up next to his. His arm is now fully around you, as you lean in close to your hair and neck. He inhaled deeply, a satisfied grunt rumbling through his chest. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, (Your Name)-Chan. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow my every whim,” Tears of fear and anxiety bead your eyes, which your friends take as relief that you’re no longer hiding away from them. 

“Don’t cry, (First Name)-Chan! It’s okay! We all support you wholeheartedly!” 

The rest of the lunch consisted of you being extremely uncomfortable, and your closest friends being none the wiser. Somehow, they don’t notice how you constantly inch away from him, only to be dragged back to his side. Somehow, they don’t know how he’s whispering mild threats into your ear. 

But, through this time, you learned the name of your so-called ‘boyfriend.’ Todo Aoi, the beast currently keeping you glued to your seat in fear. He’s so much bigger than you, so much faster, seemingly so much smarter. 

“Bye, (First Name)-Chan, Bye, Todo-Kun! It was nice to meet you!” Your friends wave the two of you off, one of his large hands securely on the small of your back. His grip is bruising, controlling. Todo practically pushes you towards an unknown destination, your body only able to continue forward, whether you wanted it to or not. 

“I’m proud of you, (First Name)-Chan. I knew my girl was smart, beautiful, and capable. This just proved it to me,” A small whimper escapes your throat, as fresh tears bead your eyes. 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?” A booming laugh is heard, practically shaking the ground below you, causing you to flinch. 

“Why am I doing this? Well, I’m doing this, because I love you. I want us to be together, so we’re going home,” He says this as if it solved all of your problems. 

“But we don’t know each other, why even bother-“ 

“We know each other. I saved your life, remember?” For the first time tonight, you look at him. His distinct scar immediately catches your attention- this man did, in fact, save your life. Two months prior, someone or something shoved you onto some train tracks, right in front of an oncoming train. In a mere moment, the bulky man grabbed you from the tracks, and hopped back up onto the platform, effectively saving your life. 

“I-Bu-But what? We met only once, and-“ He shushes you, forcing you closer to his side, his entire hand practically engulfing your waist. 

“There’s no need to worry. In that Moment, I knew that you were meant to be my beautiful Princess. You need me to care for you, and I’m up for the task.” 

“Princess? Sir, I think you need help! We’ve only talked once, and while I’m grateful for you saving my life, I think this is excessive! Please let me go!” 

He ignores you, sighing dreamily about what the two of you will get up to. Todo couldn’t wait to add more to your shrine at home! He’ll be sure to get as much dirty clothes, used tissues, and everything else he could ever want! 

Forcing you into an upper class loft building, he guides you by the small of your spine into a lift, disregarding the old woman inside. She looks at you as if the both of you are the most adorable couple she’s ever seen, making you shift in discomfort. Todo takes it in stride, practically preening under her gaze, but pretending it has no effect on him. 

He nonchalantly presses his floor’s number, before placing that hand on your hip, and rubbing it in circular motions. You try to move away from him, but his grip is solid. 

Before long, the lift stops on his floor, and he pushes you out. You stumble into the area outside of his front door- his home being the only one on the entire floor. The door itself has a pin pad on its handle, which he quickly typed in, once he’s directly in front of it, leading you to believe that there’s most likely a second pin pad on the other side. 

Once you hear the click of the door being unlocked, Todo moves away from the entryway, and motions you inside, “Go ahead, Princess.” 

In a Moment of defiance, you shake your Head no, “I think this has gone on long enough,” His eyes narrow slightly, yet you continue, practically shaking in your shoes, “I-I don’t want to go inside. Please let me go home.” 

His booming laughter fills the small space, as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re adorable, (Nickname)-Chan! Now, go inside before I become angry.” The bite in his final words forces you forward, into his dark flat. 

He flicks on the light switch the moment you step inside, momentarily blinding you. Once you’re able to blink away the dots swimming in your vision, you’re greeted with a fairly normal sight. The living room, kitchen, and dining room are conjoined in an open concept, making the large place seem even larger. Two hallways branch off on either side of the large room, most likely leading to a master, a guest room, bathroom, and an office. 

“What do you think? I read in a magazine that women like clean homes, so I deep clean this flat at least once a week.” 

You aren’t sure what to say, but you nod along anyway, “Yes, it’s very nice.” He beams down at you, cheeks practically stretching to the fullest extent. 

“This shows that I know how to make women happy! I believe that’s a redeeming quality,” You awkwardly give him the side eye, “Oh, don’t look at me like that, silly girl! I have many more redeeming qualities if that one isn’t good enough. Now,” He clasps your shoulder with a large hand, “Why don’t I show you our bedroom?” 

“Our?” Your eyes are practically bugging out of your skull, as he nods gleefully. 

“We’re a couple, aren’t we? And couples share everything with each other.” 

With that, he practically drags you down the left hallway. There’s only one door at the end of the hall, signalling that this is the master bedroom. With one hand, he pushes open the door, before coaxing you inside. His hand that was previously on your shoulder migrates to the bottom of your spine. The room is a mixture of black and your favourite colour, showcasing that this room is the both of yours. 

The bed is quite large, most likely to accommodate your large captor and yourself, “I thought you’d like that your favourite colour is in here.” 

You say nothing, tears beading your eyes. You wring your hands in anxiety, as he leads you to the bed. He sits you down on the edge, before kneeling in front of you. Todo leans forward, resting on your thighs, all whilst still practically towering over you even when sitting. 

“Why’re you crying, Princess? There’s no reason to,” He swipes under your eye the moment the first tear falls. 

“Why am I crying? You must be joking! You-you just kidnapped me!” He shushes you once more, causing a spark of anger to course through you. He hasn’t listened to a single complaint you’ve voiced! “Stop doing that! It’s rude! I’m allowed to be upset-“ 

With two massive hands, he forces your thighs open, “I know your work has you stressed, Pretty Girl- why don’t you let me calm you down?” He pushes his hands up your thighs, your skirt barely covering your pussy,  allowing his thumbs to ghost over your panty clad cunny. 

You try to thrash out of his hold, pushing against his hands, “No! Let go of me!” Your thrashing does nothing, as just the weight of his forearms we’re enough to press your thighs to the bed. His left hand rubs against your clit and hole, trying to make you as wet as possible. You try to push against his forearms, but he presses down harder. 

His thumb rubs fluidly over your clit in an even pressure. Your hips press up, trying to buck him off, but it only causes him to press down harder. In no time, you’re growing wet against his ministrations. You choke back your whines, smacking his arms, before pushing against his head which hovers just above your cunt. 

“Do you feel that, Princess? You’re getting so wet!” He suddenly presses his open mouth against your mound, tongue matching pace with his thumb. A moan escapes your throat before you can stop it, halting the large man in his tracks. You sound so perfect to him! 

In one swift motion, he yanks your panties down your legs, and tosses them onto the mattress beside you. You try to close your legs, but it’s no use. I’m seconds, he has your thighs presses as far open as they can go, and his face is buried in your pretty cunny. His tongue dips into your folds, savouring your taste, before flicking against your clit. 

His tongue rubs against your clit in swift, smooth motions, quickly causing you to grow wetter than before. Your slick drips down your cunny, coating your ass and inner thighs. More moans escape your mouth, as you writhe against him. 

“Sto-Stop! Oh my god-“ He gives a small laugh at your begs, eating you out faster than before. Loud slurps and ‘mms’ are heard throughout the room, as you quickly go over the edge. Your juices squirt out of your cunny, coating his chin and his shoulders in slick. A loud keen is heard throughout the room. 

The mixture of your wonderful cum and loud moans causes the large man to bust a load in his pants. He groans against you, causes your thighs to tremble in overstimulation. Todo removes himself from your pussy (not before licking up as much slick as possible), and smiles up at you. 

“You’re so wonderful, (Nickname)-Chan! I should’ve done this sooner!” 

[thefanficmonster]

Real Friends

Valkyrae & Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: SMAU, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following an accidental and not very consensual face reveal, Y/N’s dealing the sudden shift of the spotlight on him even more than it was before. Being the big deal he is on social media, the internet has every right to be freaking out. Luckily, he’s got a friend to help him cope with it all.

Requested by @iawaythrown Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to complete your request and post it but here it finally is. I’ve never written a SMAU before so this isn’t the classic SMAU format but I still hope you’ll enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

Imagine you end a toxic relationship of almost a year and go to bed feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off you, like you can finally breathe properly and like you’re finally getting a taste of freedom. The very freedom you chose to lose by getting in the toxic relationship in the first place. Of course, I didn’t know it was toxic at the time, probably cause it wasn’t, but it gradually turned into a nightmare.

A nightmare that keeps haunting me even after I thought I had put an end to it.

Apparently, that was wishful thinking cause I woke up this morning to find an unbelievable number of notifications and messages from friends, family and my manager and associates. Being in the music industry as a faceless creator, I keep my circle tight and it only consists of people I can trust so to see them all freaking out at me at once, even the most level-headed ones, freaked me out too. Quickly, I opened the first notification I reflexively tapped on and it opened a post in which someone had tagged me.

A picture taken of me while I was asleep, no doubt one taken by my ex. That being said, I think we can all have a guess at who posted it in the first place. I didn’t listen to my manager when he told me to not allow anyone I trust 1000% into my inner circle. I was foolish and at the peak of my career, feeling on top of the world and feeling invincible which was rare for me. I’ve always been insecure about many things in my life, growing up with a lot of judgy people made me be that way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to be the victim of the internet’s racism either. People turn a blind eye most of the time, but it’s still there, it still exists and looms over all social media platforms, disturbing people’s peace left and right.  You see, I didn’t want people to have an opinion of my art based on my appearance or associations with other creators. I’m pretty good friends with many content creators, especially in the gaming industry, but I’ve never wanted to be put in a box as one of the many friends of someone famous. I made a name for myself without anyone knowing who I am exactly.

And now they all know because of this photo that my ex sent to float down the rivers of hungry social media:

Damn am I gonna get an earful from my manager or what. It’s still rater early though and I’m really not about to deal with this drama on a caffeine-free brain so if there are any calls, emails or messages that need answering - and yes, there are PLENTY of them - they’ll all have to wait until I feel like dealing with them. I’m glad I don’t have to keep up this unbothered charade at home since I live alone cause I seriously don’t feel ok with this. I mean, I could probably report it, but what use would that be when my brand now has a face and a huge chunk of my privacy has already surfaced against my will.

As I sit in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, I finally gather the nerve to at least scroll through the notifications that I’ve received. Fans reaching out, relatives, friends, pissed off people that are there just to exist and try to disturb my peaceful existence but all they’re gonna get is a hard DELETE from me. I have offers on top of offers for modeling pending, waiting on my response. I’ve never considered it, being a faceless creator and all, but my manager will definitely want to milk some cash from this too. That thought makes me sigh in defeat. I have no one to blame but myself for trusting my ex. No one made me do it, no one made me let them in, but I still did, fucking myself over insanely. Just like they’ve now fucked me over.

Amongst the sea of notifications and yet to be opened messages, one in particular stands out and makes me do a double take. It’s a message from my friend Rae - Valkyrae, as she’s known online. She’s one of those gamer friends I mentioned earlier, probably the one I’m closest with. Her and I talk on the regular so seeing a message from her in my inbox is nothing unusual so I wonder why that was the one that stuck out to me. Regardless, that’s the only one I feel like opening and replying to at the moment.

V ~ Hey Y/N, you doing ok? This all must be really hard on you so don’t feel obligated to reply. Do so when you can or want to. I’m here if you wanna talk

Of course Rae would be the one to know how I truly feel in a situation like this. I can act and cover up all I want but she knows exactly what’s underneath the surface of my façade. That third eye friends have for each other, it’s incredible.

Me ~ Doing ok. Wasn’t expecting to wake up to this but now that millions of people know what I look like it feels oddly bittersweet, you know? Like I don’t have to go out of my way to hide anymore but I’m also gonna miss that privacy I had while I was a phantom

Me ~ On the upside: people want me to be a model now XD

My message goes to Seen almost write away, the Typing icon appearing shortly after the messages were read. I wait for Rae’s reply, sipping my slowly cooling coffee with little interest due to how invested I am in our conversation. If there’s a person who can make light of this situation, it’s Rae, no doubt about it.

V ~ I know what you mean. It’s not gonna be easy to adjust to but you will get used to it eventually. I’m sure you’ll even grow to like it. Promise you, it’s not that scary to be exposed, there’s literal millions of people who support you wholeheartedly :) 

V ~ Us, your friends, are here too! Never forget that, we’ve always got your back, Y/N!

V ~ Oh and you really should be a model! Whoever’s saying that has got the right idea. Maybe don’t fear this new change, but embrace it! Take this new turn in your life confidently. Sure, it was out of the blue, but do you really want the person who exposed you to feel the satisfaction of bringing you down? That doesn’t sound like you at all tbh

The epiphany strikes me as soon as Rae’s words sink in as I read them. She’s 100% right. The last thing I want is for my ex to think they’ve won. I refuse to give them the pleasure of tasting victory on the expense of my mental health and career progress. In fact, imma show them just how much they benefited me. But first...

Me ~ Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this eye-opener

Me ~ I owe you one <3

I sure as hell owe her one, but for now I have other battles to win.

Rifling through my gallery, I find one more recent picture and without a shred of doubt or hesitation, I go straight to Instagram to post it.

~ “Since y’all were curious...And since y’all wanna see me model, you’re welcome” ~

Within seconds likes and comments start flowing in like a riptide, taking over my phone that, despite being charged all night, is already at half of its battery life.

I refresh the page with the post to look at the new comments that have come through, all supportive and complimenting me, some are real thirsty and some are incredibly kind. And even in that sea, her comment still sticks out to me, making me grin like an idiot.

“That’s what I was talking about! Work it, Y/N!“

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: One more chapter!

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 4200

—————————————

Chapter 19: The White Violin

To say that Five was nervous would have been an understatement. Not only would he be meeting the children of the love of his life, but her mother as well. Just hours ago, he was trying to prevent an apocalypse, and fought for his life for the past eight days. Now he was worrying about whether or not Michael and Jada would like him? What a rollercoaster this week has been.

(Y/N) had made a pit stop at her home, mentioning she had to grab something. When she invited Five inside, he hesitated, but she insisted. So, he unbuckled himself and left the car, joining her at her doorstep. Once she unlocked the door, they stepped inside and then she left his side not too long after, telling him to “make himself at home”. Five instinctively shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he watched his love disappear down the hall to her bedroom. Letting out a quiet breath, he let his green eyes wander around the living room.

It was clear that (Y/N) had been living quite a comfortable life. Her home wasn’t as grand as their childhood mansion, but it wasn’t a small home either. All around her walls were framed abstract paintings, awards her novels had won, and family photos. On her wall across from the long leather couch was a seventy-two-inch flat screen television. On either side of the television was a bookshelf. Upon further inspection, Five noticed that the bookshelf on the left consisted of children’s story books, while the other was full of novels. As his eyes roamed, he noticed Vanya’s book in the ‘H’ section of the alphabetized system. He hummed and stepped back, wandering further into her home. He noted that the general theme of the interior was navy blue and white. A nice, calming touch. Something tranquil to come to after a hectic day. He shook the thought from his head as he approached the dining room. On the glass table was a cup that was knocked over. Five tilted his head and set it upright, wondering why (Y/N) hadn’t taken care of that. She didn’t seem like the type to leave a single speck of dirt around her home, but then again, she hadn’t been able to look after her home in days. He had himself to thank for that.

His attention was brought to the small table in the corner of the dining room, where a framed picture was facing down. Curious, he walked up to the table and picked up the photo, his stomach twisting in knots only slightly. It was a wedding photo of (Y/N) and Anthony. The man’s golden tan skin bathed in the sunlight, lighting up his lovestruck facial expression. He had dark black hair and full brows, sporting a well-groomed extended goatee the same color. His full body wasn’t in the frame, but it was clear he had somewhat of a muscular build and the way he held himself radiated confidence. His hazel eyes were gazing at (Y/N). Five couldn’t believe what puberty had done to her. She was the picture of perfection. Her (e/c) eyes sparkled naturally in the sunlight, the way her dazzling smile reached those eyes told nothing but the truth of how her life had truly changed for the better. The only time he had seen (Y/N) as an adult was the apocalypse, where he never had the chance to see her smile. The woman in this picture was a woman who had escaped the horrors of her childhood, who made something of herself, who didn’t let those horrors define her. A sense of pride swelled in Five’s chest the longer he stared at the photo. She had achieved true happiness.

And here he was, bringing all of that negativity back to her.

“Okay, I’m back.” (Y/N) announced as she stepped into the dining room. Five quickly set the picture down in its original place, but it was too late. The smile she wore faltered a bit, but when it returned, it was more melancholy. Her steps towards him were slow, cautious. “He reminded me so much of you, Five,” She whispered, her shoulder brushing against his as she turned the photo upright again. “He was so patient with my baggage, so gentle and careful. Like I was this porcelain doll to him. Not a single scratch could be left on me, it was so unbelievable sometimes.”

“Are you trying to say I’m gentle and patient?”

“With me, you are.” She giggled. She let her elbow nudge his as she shifted her arm. “I miss him… he couldn’t fill the void you left, but he was so wonderful to have known in life. A wonderful partner…”

Five’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry about Anthony, (Y/N)... He must’ve been pretty great if he was able to pull you out of… the dark? Is that what you call it?”

“Yes, the dark,” She whispered before her gaze shifted to his, which was already fixed on her. “Five, I-I hope you know I… I love you. I can never fully heal from Anthony’s death, but… I’m not going to just ignore this. What we have. Or had…”

“What we have.” He whispered back, stepping closer to her. Absentmindedly, (Y/N) set the photo back down as their lips grazed each other. Five’s hand gently gripped her arm and her free hand reached up to caress his cheek. Without another moment of hesitation, the two closed the gap between them, their lips colliding in a slow kiss. The feel of her soft, warm lips against his was almost enough to send his knees buckling, but Five held himself together. It was hard to, though, when the hand on his cheek moved into his hair. Tilting his head into the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. Five could have time travelled and spent forty-five years in the apocalypse over and over if it meant he’d come back to this. Come back to this person who could be the beginning and the end of him, who could easily end his life if it meant hers was saved, who could tear down his walls simply with the warmth of her graceful smile. His beautiful Starlight.

His lips chased hers when she slowly pulled away and she quietly chuckled at him. The moment their lips were separated, their gazes met. Nothing, absolutely nothing but pure love and adoration. And if her confession seconds ago didn’t tell him, the look in her eyes certainly did. Her hands slid from his cheeks down to his arms, gently patting his elbows as she raised her brows. “Well… shall we get going?”

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

“So, we’re telling them everything? The truth?” Five asked as (Y/N) pulled up in front of her mother’s small home. The girl, after turning off the car, slowly sat back with her lips in a thin line.

“Yeah… That was the original plan,” She whispered. Five frowned in confusion and when she looked at him, she sighed. “We’re gonna pretend to be neighbor kids…”

Five blinked. “You’re not serious, are you? I thought the whole purpose of this was to be honest with them.”

“Well, yeah, but just think of how they’ll react. If it actually registers in their minds that I’m a kid… Oh my god, Jada will bawl her eyes out… Michael’s gonna have a panic attack, I just know it. A-And then they’re not gonna let me comfort them and then my mom’ll have to do it and they barely even let her do it-”

“Starlight-”

“And then if I introduce you as my lover, they’re gonna think I’m trying to replace Anthony-”

“(Y/N),” Five took hold of her hands that were flailing about. She stopped and stared at him with frantic eyes. “We’ll go with your plan. Does your mom know?”

She nodded.

“Okay…,” He slowly freed her wrists, watching as she began to relax. “Ready to go?”

She nodded again.

She was not ready to go. The second the teenagers stood in front of Michael and Jada, (Y/N) froze. Five gently nudged her to start off. She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, waving shyly. “Hey, there… Um, we just moved in next door and… wanted to meet the neighbors.” She awkwardly nodded. Michael perked up and held his hand out to shake.

“I’m Michael! And I’m six!”

“I’m Jada!” The little girl laughed as Five gently shook the boy’s hand.

“I-It’s nice to meet you, Michael and Jada…” (Y/N) whispered.

Jada bounced on the couch, widening her hazel eyes in curiosity. “What’re your names?” (Y/N) immediately turned to Five in alarm. The boy placed a hand on her arm to calm her. He very slightly smiled at the girl and nodded.

“Well, my name is Five and-”

“Five?!”

“Yes-”

“Like the number?!”

“Yes, and this is… Star.”

This only made the children even more excited, their faces lighting up.

“Star?!”

“Yes.”

“Like the shiny things in the sky?!”

“Yes.” Five sighed and stared down at his feet. (Y/N) giggled. She then slowly knelt down in front of the two. She gulped and took a deep breath before lifting her head to look them in their faces. This was so much harder than she thought.

“How have you two been?”

Jada was the first to speak, “Oh, uh, good! I miss Mama. But she’s at work…”

“Yeah, but we don’t know when she’s coming back,” Michael scratched his cheek. “Because um… I remember one time when Daddy went to work and then, uh… he didn’t come back. I think he was hit… by a car. And I hope Mama didn’t get hit by a car.”

Five looked to (Y/N), who was shaking. He quickly knelt beside her and took her hand in his. “Your mom is fine, Michael, trust me.” He whispered.

“How do you know?”

“We saw her… before we moved. We met her. And she said that… she misses you two a lot. And… there isn’t a second that goes by when she doesn’t think about you. She hopes you’re happy and healthy. She… told us you two are her favorite people in the world.”

“Oh, yeah, she wrote a song about it!” Jada squealed. “She wrote a song about us and she sings it all the time!”

“It’s Jada’s favorite song.” Michael smiled and tried to hold his sister close so she’d cease her bouncing on the couch. (Y/N) let out a laugh as she watched her kids with tender eyes.

“She also said,” She started off, inhaling deeply. “That she didn’t want to leave you two. And if she could, she’d bring you two with her everywhere she went. But she can’t because- Well, she can’t… A-And she,” She stopped to wipe the tears cascading down her cheeks. “She hopes you two don’t hate her f-for leaving you for this long. And that she loves you… so, so much… You two fill her with so much joy and she doesn’t know what to do without you a-and-”

“Why are you crying, Star?” Jada hopped off the couch and hugged her mother tight. (Y/N) immediately wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Why are you crying?”

“N-Nothing, Jada, I just… I just feel bad because she misses you so much…”

Michael plopped down onto the ground in front of them, joining the hug. “Don’t feel bad. She’ll be home with us soon. That’s what she sings every night. That she… um… she’s gonna wipe our tears away when she comes back.”

“You’re right, Michael,” (Y/N) tearfully laughed. “My god, you’re so right…”

Michael turned to Five with a small smile, reaching his arm out. The time traveller looked around with a frown before pointing to himself. The little boy nodded and motioned him closer. Five shuffled over to the three and was going to ask what he needed, but Michael only pulled him into the hug. He was shocked, to say the very least. He considered leaving the hug, but when Jada tugged on his jacket to pull him closer, he gave in and wrapped his arms around the little family.

All the while, (Y/N)’s mother watched from the side, grinning through her tears.

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

“What’d you think of the kids?” (Y/N) whispered as she and Five strolled down the sidewalk, hand-in-hand. After the tear-fest, the two decided to get some fresh air and walked around the neighborhood. It was abnormally normal for Five to simply walk down a sidewalk without a task at hand, without answers to find. But right by his side was the answer to all of his questions.

“I think… Jada looks exactly like you,” The two shared a laugh. “But I must say, they are very intelligent children. And so kindhearted, as well. I mean, they just met me and were so comfortable with me.”

“I don’t know where they get that from.” She chuckled. Five gently tugged on her hand, causing her to step closer.

“You’ve got to start giving yourself credit for things like this. They’re your kids. Where do you think they got it from?” He smiled, raising her hand to his lips. “You’re the most caring person I know, Starlight.” He pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles as she leaned into his side. This beautiful and peaceful moment was squashed, however, when Five glanced over at a newspaper stand and dropped (Y/N)’s hand frantically. He rushed to the stand and took out a newspaper. “No, no, no…”

“Five?” (Y/N) stepped closer, her hand hovering over his shoulder. “What’s wrong…?”

“(Y/N)... we need to get back to the Academy.”

“W-What? Why-”

“The apocalypse is still on.”

Her car sped towards the Academy, the two hoping to god no lives had been taken in their absence. Arriving at the Academy, there was… Well, there was no Academy. It was in shambles, fire acting as a source of light in the night. Thankfully, in the midst of all the wreckage, (Y/N) could count four of her siblings standing around. Unfortunately, she didn’t see Vanya anywhere. The two teens charged out of the car and towards their siblings. “Guys!” Five grabbed (Y/N) by the hand and pulled her with him. The four all turned to them with exhaustion written all over their faces and bodies. “This is it. The apocalypse is still on. The world ends today.”

“I thought you said it was over.” Luther stepped closer to them. Five held up the newspaper he’d been clutching in his hand since he found it.

“I was wrong, okay? This newspaper, I found it in the future the day I got stuck. The headline hasn’t changed.”

“No, that doesn’t mean anything.” Diego shook his head. (Y/N) detected tears in his eyes and walked closer to comfort him, but he only held his hand up in dismissal. Backing off, she turned back to Five. “Time could’ve been altered since that newspaper came out this morning.”

“You’re not listening to me. When I found it, I assumed this place came down along with everything else,” Five glanced around at the wreckage. “But here we are. The moon’s still shining, the earth is in one piece, but not the Academy.” Five was nearly cut off when Klaus snatched the newspaper from him, flipping through its pages.

“I’m confused…”

“Then listen to me, you idiot! Vanya destroys the Academy before the apocalypse. I-I thought Harold Jenkins was the cause, but he was the fuse-”

“Vanya’s the bomb...” (Y/N) sighed in realization. Five gestured towards his love with an exasperated huff.

“Someone gets it… Vanya causes the apocalypse.”

“We have to find her.” Luther muttered as the sound of helicopter blades and sirens could be heard above them. A blinding light shone on all six of them from one of the helicopters. Diego stood and shielded his eyes from the light.

“We have to get the hell out of here!” (Y/N) grabbed a hold of Five’s arm. The siblings began to disperse, Luther commanding them to regroup at the Super Star Lanes. Pulling her close, Five blinked both he and (Y/N) there.

The boy would have pulled off the employee’s head and shoved it up where the sun didn't shine when she told him they needed to pay to get in, but (Y/N) stepped up and slammed some money onto the counter. It was more than enough for them and their siblings. She quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to one of the lanes, sitting him down in a chair. The boy’s leg was bouncing rapidly and she had to place her hand on it in order for him to look at her. “I know it seems next to impossible, but please keep a level head, bub.” She leaned in and pecked his lips. He let out a sigh and gently pulled her to sit beside him without a word. The two patiently waited for the four to show up and when they did, they all gathered in the seats provided. Silently. No words spoken amongst each other. By this time, (Y/N)’s legs were swung over Five’s lap, the boy resting his hands on her knees as he stared forward, deep in thought. He didn’t break out of his trance until Luther spoke up,

“Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone needs to prepare.”

“For what?” Diego furrowed his brows.

“To do whatever it takes to stop Vanya.” His answer earned him a smack to the chest with the notepad from Allison. Luther stammered and sighed.

“We may not have a choice, Allison.”

“Bullshit,” Diego mumbled as Klaus picked up the newspaper once again. “There’s always options.”

“Yeah, like what?” Five tested, but only received an ‘I don’t know’.

“Look, whatever we decide, we need to find Vanya. And fast, okay? She could be anywhere.” Luther stood from his chair.

“Or… here.” Klaus’s voice turned everyone’s head in his direction. He shook the newspaper a bit before they gathered around him. In the paper was an advertisement for the performance of the Saint Pluvium Chamber Orchestra, with Vanya as first chair. (Y/N) leaned forward to read it, Five placing his hand on her back to keep her from falling over.

“That’s right. Her concert is tonight.” Diego whispered.

“Hello,” The same employee from earlier approached the family, everyone irritably turning to her. “I hate to intrude, but my manager says if you’re not gonna bowl, you gotta leave.” She shrugged, walking off as said manager slapped a pair of bowling shoes on the counter. Luther, absolutely over this whole situation, grabbed a bowling ball and carelessly threw it. The ball bounced a couple of lanes over before knocking all ten pins down.

“Strike.” (Y/N) lazily cheered. She looked over when she heard Allison tapping on her notepad she’d just written on.

SHE’S OUR SISTER

“We’re the only ones capable of stopping this,” Luther stared intently at her. “We have a responsibility to Dad.”

“To Dad?!” Diego raised his voice. “No, I’ve heard enough about-”

“He sacrificed everything to bring us back together.”

“I’m with Luther on this one,” Five spoke up. “We can’t give her a chance to fight back.” When he felt his love move her legs off his lap, he turned to see her frowning in distaste. “What, are you against this?”

“Of course, I’m against this, Five, I don’t want to have to hurt Vanya.”

“What other choice do we have?” Luther raised his brows at her.

“There are billions of lives at stake. We’re past trying to save just one, (Y/N).” The boy gently held her hand. The girl sighed and turned her head away from him.

“It’s just that we’ve hurt her so much already…”

“Hey, you know, guys, uh… maybe I could help.” Klaus suddenly spoke, hopefully glancing around at his siblings. Luther blinked and shook his head.

“Now is not the time, Klaus-”

“No, let him finish,” Diego interrupted Luther. “He saved my life today.”

(Y/N) stared up at Klaus with a small smile. “Really, Klaus? You did that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did… take credit for it. In fact, the real hero… was Ben.”

The silence between the family was deafening. Diego, Five and (Y/N) were intrigued while Luther and Allison were doubtful. Klaus sighed and walked in front of them. “Today… Listen. Today, he punched me in the face. Remember, I told you, (Y/N), you saw it!”

“Well… I didn’t actually-”

“And earlier at the house, he was the one who saved Diego’s life, not me.”

Luther scoffed. “You’re unbelievable, Klaus.”

“You want proof, is that it? (Y/N), did you or did you not see Ben punch me in the face today?”

The girl stiffened when she felt all eyes on her. Her own darted from Five, to Luther, then to Klaus, who waited with a hopeful smile. Inwardly sighing, she nodded. “Yes, I saw it.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Luther hissed. “You’re always defending his reckless behavior-”

“No, Luther, maybe I’m just the only one who listens to him-”

“No, you encourage him!”

“Fine, I’ll give you some real proof!” Klaus interrupted and grabbed a bowling ball. Readying to throw it, he stared at the space behind (Y/N). “Showtime, baby. Catch!”

Five quickly pulled his love into the other seat with him before the ball could get anywhere near her. She felt her heart sink when the ball smacked against the floor, slowly rolling away to the next party lane. She looked to Klaus in disbelief, now feeling like the world’s biggest fool. Her brother slowly lowered his arms as he stared back at her apologetically. “Is there any way to silence that voice in your head that screams out to be the center of attention? Or the voice that encourages it.” Luther leaned towards (Y/N), who nearly lunged at him.

“Fuck off, Luther!”

“You know, I liked you a lot better before you got laid,” Klaus immediately regretted that when seeing the shock on both Allison and Luther’s faces. “Which was a complete… It- It wasn’t his fault, ‘cause he was ridiculously high, right? And- And the girl, she thought he was a furry-”

“Stop!” Luther shut him down. He then slowly turned to Allison, who grabbed her notepad and walked away from them. Luther called out to her and followed quickly. To make things even more awkward, a woman suddenly walked over to the siblings with her son.

“Excuse me!” She beamed, the four turning to her. “Excuse me, it’s my son Kenny’s birthday today, and… uh… wouldn’t your kids be happier playing with kids their own age? Assuming it’s okay with your two dads.”

(Y/N) got quite the kick out of this, burying her face into Five’s shoulder and quietly laughing as the boy tensed in anger. “I would rather chew off my own foot.” He spat. The woman’s face slowly fell before she escorted her son away. (Y/N) was still laughing as she leaned away when she felt Five get up from his seat.

“If I was going to date a man, you’d be the last man I would date.” Diego stated. Klaus, offended, turned to his sister.

“He’d be lucky to get me.”

“Oh my god, I love you guys.” She snorted into her hand. When her laughter finally died down, she turned to where Five now stood. He was clutching something in his fist and something in her knew he was about to blink away, so she stood quickly. “Five.” She called out and rushed over to him. He turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Starlight, I have to take care of something.”

“But Five, you can’t.”

“I have to.”

“But where?! Where do you have to go?!” Her voice broke as she latched onto his sleeves. He glanced down at her hands before meeting her eyes.

“It’s The Handler. I need to… discuss something with her.”

“Five-”

“Starlight, I promise I will come back for you guys. I’ll come back to you,” He gently rubbed her shoulders. “Okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Five smiled warmly and leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss. She pressed hers right back to his as her grip on him loosened. When he pulled away, he gave her one last smile before blinking away. She willed herself to return to her seat by her brothers. They picked up on her anxiety immediately, watching her tap her fingers to her knee repeatedly as she bit her lip harshly. The two sat forward with concerned looks.

“(Y/N)?” Diego called, but she hadn’t heard him. Klaus reached over and grabbed her working hand.

“He’ll be back, dear. He wouldn’t just leave us, leave you.”

“I-I know,” Her voice broke, the girl cursing at the sound. “I just… e-every time he leaves, I’m terrified it’s the last time I’ll see him.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @narikyuwu @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @call-me-starstorm @rev-enviadhell @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx

[bpro-cardstories]

Yuta Ashu SR ーRequestー

2019 ー Special Moment [特別な��間]

“But I think carrying a camera with you has no harm because you don’t know when a special moment occurs.”

『 Event: SUMMER LIVE on the beach (1st July - 10th July 2019) 』

Part 1

Yuta: ‘Gochin, Kenken! I’ll release the shutter button, so listen properly, okay?’

ーShutter button noise.ー

Yuta: ‘How was it!? Doesn’t it make a super professional tone? Look, look.’ 

Goshi: ‘Oi, Ashu. Until when are you going to do that? It’s already the third day in a row.’ 

Kento: ‘I think it’s a freebie from a quiz program? Shall I return it?’

Yuta: ‘No way! I worked so hard for the buzz-to-answer quiz!!’ 

Goshi: ‘Then take care of it in the closet.’ 

Yuta: ‘Geez~! Why do you say such a mean thing, Gochin.’ 

Goshi: ‘That’s because the camera is all you are talking about, whether you’re sleeping or are awake.’ 

Yuta: ‘I mean, you know, this little one isn’t an ordinary camera?’ 

Yuta: ‘It’s hard to get your hands on a professional waterproof single-lens reflex (SLR) camera after all!’ 

Kento: ‘Well, it’s not a camera that an amateur can handle casually, is it? So, can you master it, Yuta?’ 

Yuta: ‘Of course, perfectly~.... It's not how it is, but I feel like by playing around with it I get a hang of it.’ 

Yuta: ‘Here, look! The neighbourhood’s cat! It was taken by a beautiful woman, right?’ 

Kento: ‘Hee. Well, it seems that it can be taken as it is.’ 

Kento: ‘...... Eh, what’s this? These are all cats?’ 

Yuta (blushing): ‘Yeah, when I followed this cat a lot of its friends came, so I took a photo of them together. Each one of them is so cute~.’ 

Yuta: ‘This time I want to try taking pictures of people, not just cats. And try the waterproof function! You can take a photo shoot anywhere in the sea or in the pool. Because when Gochin or Kenken are swimming all coolly the camera will capture you perfectly, leave it to me as your cameraman!’ 

Goshi: ‘Leave it to me, you say….. There’s no such opportunity to go to the sea.’ 

Yuta: ‘Then creating one should be fine! When was our next holiday again!?’

Goshi: ‘Hmpf…. I won’t go. Go alone if you want to go.’ 

Yuta: ‘Eeh, there’s no meaning to it then!’ 

Goshi: ‘Who knows. Anyways, I’m thirsty. Ashu, give me the coke.’ 

Yuta (upset): ‘Geez…. Here you are.’ 

Goshi (smiles): ‘Thanks.’ 

Goshi: ‘.....Hm?’ 

ーFizzling noise.ー

Goshi: ‘Uwaah!? Shit, why’s the coke bursting out!?’ 

Yuta: ‘All right, here’s my chance!’ 

Goshi: ‘Oi, now’s not the time for taking pictures!’ 

Yuta: ‘Gochin, you’re making a good face~! Look, we can shoot such incidents perfectly as well. It’s good to have a camera, right?’ 

Kento: ‘Goshi covered in coke….. Haha….. No, not good, he might get mad about it…..’ 

Goshi: ‘You too, don’t laugh!’

Goshi: ‘And you, Ashu!! You set up this coke, didn’t you?’ 

Yuta (shocked): ‘W-What do you mean…..? I know nothing?’

Goshi: ‘Don’t play dumb, it’s obvious.’ 

Yuta: ‘Waah, Gochin’s mad! Let’s escape~!’

Goshi: ‘Ashu! Don’t run away!’ 

Yuta: ‘Hiiee~!!’ 

Yuta: ‘Oh, right! I had an appointment with Ryu-chan! I’m going now!’ 

Goshi: ‘Shit….’ 

Kento: ‘Hehe…..’ 

Goshi: ‘And until when do you want to laugh? Geez, Ashu, that guy…..’ 

Part 2

ーKTKR’s apartment.ー

Yuta: ‘That was really close! Only a bit more and I would have been caught by Gochin.’ 

Ryuji (sighs): ‘And that’s why you suddenly came to our place. But it’s given that Goshi is angry when he’s covered in coke.’ 

Yuta (smiles): ‘I didn’t think it would splash so beautifully on him.’ 

Yuta: ‘Gochin has the talent to get caught in mischief.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I don’t know if you can say that it’s a talent, but…..’ 

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Well, if you ask me, you do see it a lot that he’s caught up in Yuta’s pranks.’ 

Yuta: ‘Right? I wonder if Gochin’s still mad ~.’

Yuta: ‘Hey, hey, do you think he’ll forgive me if I apologize and invite him to go to the sea?’

Ryuji: ‘Why the sea though.’ 

Yuta: ‘I mean anyone wants to go to the sea in Summer, right? Gochin must be wanting to go as well!’ 

Ryuji: ‘I don’t really think so……’ 

Yuta: ‘Eh….. Then, the river?’ 

Ryuji: ‘The place isn’t the problem. You don’t have the time for it in the first place, do you?’ 

Yuta: ‘Hmm….. That’s true, we actually don’t.’ 

Yuta (sigh): ‘Mmh, even though I got such a good camera I can’t make the most of its use, that’s such a waste.

Yuta: ‘Oh yeah, Tsubasa-chan, do we have work scheduled to go to a sea or a river in the future?’

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry, at the moment….’ 

Yuta (sad): ‘I see…. It’s a waterproof camera after all. I wanted to take a photo that looks like “waves, splashes of water and Summer!”.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I understand…..’ 

Tsubasa: ‘But I think carrying a camera with you has no harm because you don’t know when a special moment occurs.’

Yuta (smiles): ‘A special moment huh…..’ 

Yuta: ‘Yeah, it’s just as Tsubasa-chan says! I’ll carry the camera around so that I can take a photo at any time!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Which meansーー’

Yuta (excited): ‘Ah, right! It was the first time Ryu-chan and the others have seen this camera, wasn’t it? This one here is really amazing! It also has a long-running time and is fine even 15m into the water. The camera shoots beautifully in dark places too and its consecutive shooting consists of 15 shots per secondーー’

Ryuji: ‘Stop!’ 

Yuta (shocked): ‘Eh?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Listen, Yuta. Why do you think Tsubasa is here at our place?’ 

Yuta: ‘Why….. Ah! Sorry, sorry! Now that I think about it, it was about work.’ 

Yuta: ‘It was a sunscreen commercial with Massu, if I’m not wrong? Please don’t feel bothered by me and continue talking. I will wait here for ten minutes!’ 

Ryuji: ‘So, you mean we should end this talk in ten minutes?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, we will do our best.’ 

Yuta: ‘Ehehe, thanks, Tsubasa-chan ♪.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Wait a minute, Tsubasa, aren’t you lenient toward Yuta?’ 

Yuta: ‘It’s okay for Ryu-chan to be toward me as well, you know?’

Ryuji: ‘Haa….. Anyways, could you stay quiet for ten minutes.’

Yuta: ‘Yeーs!’

Part 3

ーAnother day.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for the photo shoot, Yuta-kun.’ 

Yuta: ‘Likewise, Tsubasa-chan!’ 

Yuta: ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Without thinking I kept talking with the cameraman.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘We still have time, so it’s fine. More importantly, what is the matter?’ 

Yuta: ‘Mmh, I was just taught a way to take photos. Until now, I shot everything in auto mode, but after all the trouble I want to try various things out.’

Yuta (blushes): ‘It’s interesting how completely different the feeling of taking a picture is just by changing the settings a bit, like the exposure* or aperture**…… It’s difficult to remember them, but I want to try studying the settings more ♪.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘This sounds quite professional…..! I’m also looking forward to what kind of photos Yuta-kun will take from now on.’

Yuta: ‘Ehehe, thanks! When I can take a photo I’m content with then I also want to take one of Tsubasaーー’

Yuta: ‘......Hm? Wasn’t there a raindrop just now?’ ___

Yuta: ‘Waah, a rain shower!? Tsubasa-chan, let’s go somewhere with a roof!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yes!’ ___

Yuta: ‘Phew….. Good thing that we were able to find a place to take shelter from the rain. Are you alright, Tsubasa-chan? Aren’t you cold?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for asking. I got a little bit, but I’m fine. Shall we take shelter here for some time until the shower abates?’ 

Yuta: ‘Let’s do so. It was so sunny a moment ago that the rain startled me.’ 

Yuta (smiles): ‘Yet….. Sudden rain is a little exciting, isn’t it? How do I say, it’s like a drama seriesーー’

Tsubasa: ‘Yuta-kun? ….. Is something wrong?’ 

Yuta (blushes): ‘Photo chance, Tsubasa-chan!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Photo chance?’

Yuta: ‘Yeah, the camera comes into play!!’ 

ーshutter button noiseー

Yuta: ‘Waah, look, look! Even the raindrops can be taken beautifully!!’

Tsubasa: ‘Amazing…..! It’s taken so clearly.’ 

Yuta: ‘The cameraman taught me that when we talked. He said that when shooting moving objects it’s best to increase the shutter speed.’ 

Yuta (excited): ‘Such a glittering feeling….. I want to try shooting more!’ 

ーYuta runs off.ー

Tsubasa: ‘P-Please wait. Yuta-kun, you will get wet.’ 

Yuta: ‘This much is fine! Since it’s waterproof, it won’t break even if it gets wet ♪.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘It’s not about the camera, if Yuta-kun gets wet it will be troublesーー’ 

Yuta (blushes): ‘Ehehe~, I’m so glad I carried the camera with me!’ 

Yuta: ‘It’s like Tsubasa-chan said. Thanks!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah…..’ 

ーYuta runs further away.ー

Yuta: ‘I’ll shoot over here for a bit. And Tsubasa-chan waits there!’

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yuta-kun…..!’

Yuta: ‘Alright, let’s take more great pictures~♪. Keep on coming, rain~!’ 

END _________________ 

* Exposure (露光・ろこう): Photo Exposure. ー “Exposure is one of the most fundamental photography terms. When you take a picture, you press the shutter button to open a camera’s aperture, and light streams in, triggering a response from a sensor. Exposure is the amount of light that reaches your camera’s sensor, creating visual data over a period of time.[....]” [Source: adobe.com]

** Aperture (絞り・しぼり): Here it refers to the camera’s aperture. ー “Aperture refers to the opening of a lens's diaphragm through which light passes. It is calibrated in f/stops and is generally written as numbers such as 1.4, 2, 2.8, 4, 5.6, 8, 11 and 16. [.....]” [Source: nikonusa.com]

[skrltwtch]

Graveyard Shift

Prompt: I know the sign says, "No shoes, no shirt, no service", but I just had the WEIRDEST night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early, and I'm really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter. Help? (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,255 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, supernatural

Warnings: Smut

References: 1 Inglourious Basterds

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Graveyard shift is the fucking best — and the fucking worst.

For one, the shop is able to achieve that fine balance between having enough customers to justify its opening hours and keep me on its payroll, and having enough customers to not make me regret my choice of employment while I attempt to sort out my life. The silence that falls over the shop at two o’clock — without fail every night, like the general public know they have better places to be at two o’clock than a corner shop — grants it the perfect atmosphere for self-introspection and self-improvement. Have I learnt anything useful? Let’s … not talk about that.

Now, what’s the downside to this job, you ask? The customers, of course. There are fewer of them in the dead of the night, but God, the ones that do come in … Being situated on one of London’s busiest corners means a colourful clientele at all times of the day. Drunkards and yobs make up a sizeable number of the demographic that contribute to the shop’s cash drawer while I’m on duty. It’s both sickening and fascinating to deal with them. In my nine months of working here, I’ve seen it all — or I thought I have, until my attention is drawn to the naked man at the door.

It’s less than half an hour after sunrise. He doesn’t look like he’s knocked back a drink too many. (Can coffee make me see things I’m not supposed to be seeing at this hour?) He looks to be of sound mind, his franticness to be let inside aside. He’s handsome: his brown waves, wiry physique, and elegant features lend him a startling resemblance to an ancient Greek sculpture. Strangely, there is an abundance of scars all over his body, and not in a manner that’d signal self-harm. They look more consistent with animal scratches. I’m speaking from experience here: I have a cat, though it’s nigh impossible a cat did this to him.

Nonetheless, this ranks in the lower half of the top ten weirdest shit I’ve seen while on the clock.

‘Hello? Hello!’ That ought to be what he’s saying; I don’t proclaim myself to be an expert at lip reading. It’s encouraging that he’s aware of the sign preventing his entry and doesn’t think he’s above it, at least.

I shake my head at him. Rules are rules, mate. They apply even to hot, naked men.

‘Come on! Please?’ — I think.

‘Sorry!’ I shout, and I point at the camera above me. Colin, my manager, is a cool bloke. It’s about as likely that I’d lose my job for letting Mr Naked and Afraid grace the inside of the shop with his presence and providing him with service as it is that Mr Naked and Afraid is on something that isn’t obvious to my innocent eyes. Why tempt fate? There are other corner shops with less draconian policies down the street. I turn away and continue looking at my phone to spare us both our blushes. It is nippy outside …

Fuck it.

I motion for him to come in. I can explain this to Colin, should he decide to review this morning’s security footage on a whim. He’s a Cool Bloke™.

‘Thank you,’ says Mr Naked and Afraid. Fuck, the shop lighting is doing him more favours than he needs. ‘You won’t get in any trouble for this?’

‘Nah. I might get chewed out1 for this, but that’ll be the worst of it.’

‘Sorry. But thank you. Thank you. I’m George.’

Good. Mr Naked and Afraid is becoming a mouthful.

‘I’m Eva. How can I help, George?’

‘Do you have any spare clothes?’

‘It’s just me here, mate.’

‘I know. Can’t hurt to ask.’

Can I say, ‘You have balls’? Is that appropriate at a time like this? I exhale audibly. ‘Give me a second.’ I retreat into the staffroom behind the counter. Colin deserves a better staffroom than a lad hangout. I’ll clean up when there isn’t a naked man waiting on me outside — or not. I’m not their helper. I sort through the coat rack for something suitable. Andrew is the closest to George in stature, I think. Operating on that approximation, I grab Andrew’s jacket and trousers. I don’t want to have to think too hard about what my co-workers look like underneath their clothes. Besides, Andrew’s clothes have been here for ages. He won’t miss them.

‘Try these,’ I say.

‘Thank you. I’ll clean and return them, I promise.’ He reaches over the counter for the clothes.

‘Not so fast. Give me the craziest reason you’re butt naked, and if I like it, you get the clothes.’

‘Really?’

‘I have to tell my manager something. Might as well be something weird so I don’t get chewed out too hard.’

‘Fine.’ He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the shop — in search of inspiration, perhaps. I’d love to hear what he comes up with. He looks like someone with a good sense of humour. If we’d met elsewhere, I’d have thought about asking for his number and then chickening out at the last minute, because women like me don’t get anywhere with men like him. I keep a lookout on the entrance for any customers or co-workers, mostly because I don’t want to share this moment with anyone else.

‘Clock’s ticking, George.’

‘You didn’t say there’s a time limit.’

‘I’m not the one with my arse out in public.’

‘Alright. I’m a werewolf. I must’ve messed something up, because I got out of my flat last night and woke up in Trafalgar Square. I live in Hampstead. See these scars? It’s all me.’

I stare at him. He’s staring back at me, expecting a response. He looks serious. I — I can’t. I burst out laughing. Of all the things I thought I’d hear, that isn’t one of them.

‘That’s one I haven’t heard before. I love it.’

‘Yeah? Can I then —’

‘Not before you answer one more question, wolf boy.’ I mean that nickname with utmost sincerity.

‘Seriously …?’ Red blotches his cheeks. ‘Okay, okay.’

‘Were you born a werewolf or were you bitten?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Humour me.’

He rakes his hair with his fingers, and holds his inhalation and blink long enough for it to mean ‘I should’ve gone to the next corner shop’. Little does he know that his exasperation is making him look more attractive. I’ll treasure this moment forever. ‘Born. You don’t see any bite marks, do you?’

‘Touché. Here.’ I pass him the clothes.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘No, thank you for the laugh,’ I say, looking away from him as he tries Andrew’s trousers on for size. Andrew’s fashion sense is being wasted on us corner shop plebeians. ‘I love horror and supernatural shit. That was perfect.’

‘Cool.’ For fuck’s sake, he can also pull off the loud, brash prints Andrew favours? This is unfair. ‘I’ll pop these in the washer when I get home, and I’ll return them to you …’

‘I’m working tonight. I’ll be here at ten.’ Technically, I start work at midnight. Andrew’s scheduled for the evening shift today, and I’d love to see his face when George returns with his clothes. I can’t remember how long these specific items have been in the staffroom. Plus, like, ten o’clock is an acceptable time to meet someone who lives in Hampstead and probably has standard working hours, isn’t it? ‘If that’s not too late for you.’

‘That’s fine. Thanks again, Eva.’ He’s said the T word so many times, it’s starting to sound weird to my ears. Semantic satiation — that’s what the phenomenon is called. I learnt this from the 3,722nd post I read on Reddit some nights ago.

‘You’re welcome, wolf boy. See you tonight.’

He grins. ‘See you.’

Just as he turns to leave, I swear, I swear on my copy of The Killing Joke with a frayed spine because I put it in the same bag as my water tumbler with a loose cap, I see a flash of fangs.

✦✧✦✧

‘You’re here early,’ says Andrew.

‘It’s midnight somewhere in the world.’ I don’t join him behind the counter. I’m scheduled to start work at midnight, and that is exactly what I’ll do. Overtime means nothing to me. (I say that like it’s applicable in this instance.) ‘Did a guy come in to look for me?’

‘Nope. Hey, do you know what happened to my trousers and jacket? First one’s floral; second one’s mustard.’ Doesn’t it just sound like a ghastly combination? Andrew can pull it off. So can George — both items at the same time. I’ve only seen Andrew in one or the other.

‘Funny story, that.’

‘Share.’

‘Okay, picture this: It’s fuck o’clock in the wee hours of the morning. Sun’s coming up. I’m on my second tumbler of coffee and running out of things to keep myself entertained. Suddenly, a naked bloke is asking to be let in; he’s begging. He doesn’t look drunk or high. I let him in because I’m a bleeding heart at heart. He asks me for spare clothes. Thank God you treat this place like your second closet. I ask him to hit me with the craziest reason he’s naked to help me decide if I should help him. He says he’s a werewolf.’ I am fighting to hold in my laughter. ‘And he says it with the straightest face you can imagine.’

‘Eva, this bloke was hot, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes, but —’

‘You’d have given him the clothes no matter what he said.’

‘I didn’t tell you this story for you to call me out like that.’

‘You’re welcome. Does Colin know you breached one of the shop’s sacred creeds?’

‘Does he have to know?’

‘No comment. It’s not my arse on the line.’

‘Colin won’t do me dirty like that. I did a good deed.’

‘… No comment. Am I going to get my stuff back?’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘Bollocks, I thought it’s because you like my company.’

‘Why not both?’

The bell above the door jangles, cutting our conversation short. It’s none other than the man of the hour himself. Never have I been this ecstatic to see someone enter the shop. He has no business filling out his grey shirt as well as he is.

‘George! Hi!’ I drown out Andrew’s snicker. Can’t I be excited about speaking with an attractive, charming man who isn’t drunk or in need of goods and services a corner shop can provide in the shop at this time of night? I might also never see him again after this, so as far as I’m concerned, I deserve every second of this.

‘Hello, Eva,’ says George. ‘Got the clothes cleaned like I said I would.’ He shows me the paper bag in his hand. McDonald’s. I can hear Andrew’s heart giving out. ‘Thank you again.’

I take the bag from him and place it on the counter, the golden arches staring Andrew in the face. ‘You’re welcome. You should thank him, too.’ I jerk my thumb at my near-apoplectic co-worker. ‘This is Andrew. The clothes are his.’

‘Thank you,’ George says to the other man, who responds with a tight-lipped nod, still in the midst of computing what he did in a past life to deserve having his clothes returned to him in a McDonald’s paper bag. ‘I followed the instructions on the labels as best I could. If I ruined something, I’d be happy to pay you back for it.’

‘Thanks, mate.’ Andrew takes the clothes out of the bag and gives them a quick once-over. ‘Looks good. You can have the bag back.’ He pushes it toward George with his finger.

‘Okay …’ George takes the bag, flattens and folds it into a neat square, and holds it under his arm. ‘Eva, I can’t — I can’t thank you enough for this morning. Last night was … weird.’ He swallowed.

‘Yeah, sure …’ I wink at him. ‘… wolf boy.’

‘Are you working now?’

‘No, but I will be in’ — I consult my watch — ‘an hour and a half’s time. I came in early because I know I don’t have the same concept of day and night as most people.’

‘Graveyard shift: fun as shit’ is Andrew’s sterling contribution to this part of the conversation. I like that, actually.

‘You didn’t have to — I’m more of a night owl,’ says George. Is that because he has a closer affinity to the night because of what he is? I convince myself it is. ‘Do you want to go get some coffee nearby? It’s the least I can do. I hope I didn’t get you in trouble.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. I should talk to Colin about this soon. ‘Sure, I’d love some coffee. Be a dear and watch the shop for me, will you, Andrew?’

✦✧✦✧

George leads me into his flat. Our bellies are full from dinner. I love and hate eating with him sometimes. I love his company, obviously; I hate that he can put away so much without any of it showing on him. Earlier, he had pork chops, lamb meatball stew, and a fudge brownie with ice cream. I get that he needs all that protein to maintain his figure, and I’d love and support him all the same if he were, but he’s not an Olympics athlete like Michael Phelps. Nonetheless, all that food’s imbued him with oodles of energy, the kind that’s seen us seek to end the night on a more gratifying note at someone’s place. (Mine’s out of the question tonight because my flatmate’s working toward the same goal with her latest squeeze.)

The farthest we make it before the urge to eat each other’s faces overpowers us is the sofa. I’m on top of him, just showering him with gentle kisses on his lips, and sometimes his cheeks and nose. I’m content with savouring his taste for now. His breathing is heavy. He’s warm to the touch. His kisses are more insistent. I yield to his desperate, almost plaintive moans and allow our tongues the pleasure of getting to know each other better. His hand is feverishly fondling my thigh and hip; the latter has developed a mind of its own, grinding up against him. Deciding our mouths couldn’t have all the fun, I move on to his neck, which he kindly bares for me. His throat is thrumming with — growls?

I look up at him and say, ‘Do you hear that?’

‘Hm?’ His eyelids flutter open. I gasp.

Staring back at me are yellow eyes, brilliant and wild.

Oh, my God.

‘George — your —’

‘Why?’ He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Shit.’ I get off him. I see the fangs I thought I saw the first time we met. ‘What’s today’s date?’

‘It’s the eighth.’

‘Fuck!’ The force with which he cursed propels him out of his seat. ‘You have to go. I’m sorry,’ he says, taking off his shirt. His chest sheens with sweat. ‘I forgot.’

I don’t need to ask him what it is he forgot: I know the answer on a primeval level. I know I should leave. I stand transfixed by what’s happening before me. His flesh twists and ripples. The growls get louder. The proportions of the hand on his chest — hairier than I’ve ever known it to be — are all wrong. Poking — pushing out from underneath his fingernails are claws. He turns away from me. The sight of protruding knobs of bone under the skin along his spine causes chills to run down mine. My poor George. My poor wolf boy.

‘I’ll go,’ I say, as much as I want to stay with him. ‘Will you be okay?’ I shake my head. Stupid question. He’s in agony.

‘I’ll be fine.’ There is greater conviction in the violent gurgle that follows than his words. ‘Now go. Please.’ His back arches and expands with muscle. He cries out in pain.

I do as he says. I hear the locks rattle and turn behind me. Though his strained growls and yips are horrible to hear, I stick around outside his door. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I don’t quite feel afraid either of what I saw in there or of what I now know. Instead, I feel … I press my legs together and bite my lip. Not the time. After what feels like an eternity of guttural noises that have no right coming from a human throat, a howl, long, almost melodious, pierces the air. It’s almost … reassuring. So much about him makes sense now.

I take my phone from my bag, and I send him the following: ’Text me when you see this. Love you.’

✦✧✦✧

I shift on my feet as I wait for George to answer the door. I’m worried about him. Does he not want to see me anymore after last night? No, it’s an insult to the both of us for me to think that he thinks I’d be narrow-minded enough to stop wanting to be with him because of what he is. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. The food I brought for him is getting cold. Can he smell it from inside his flat? I press the doorbell again. I wish he had a neighbour to tell me what I can do in times like this.

The door opens. He looks a mess: he’s in boxers, and his hair is sticking out every which way. His eyes go wide. The memory of his yellow eyes resurfaces. I feel a little weak in my knees.

‘Good morning, love. I came to see if everything is okay,’ I say, ‘and I brought breakfast.’ I show him the paper bag. The food inside still smells good.

‘I thought —’ He doesn’t need to complete his sentence for me to know what he means. It’s written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the sadness in his eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to be proven right about that.

‘Of course not. You didn’t see my message?’

‘I haven’t checked my messages. Sorry.’

‘Oh.’

‘Please, come in. Are you off work today?’

I nod.

His flat, too, is in disarray. It looks just as if an animal went wild in here. Pillows and books are all over the floor; some of the former have been ripped apart. Sunlight shines through the gaping holes in the curtains. Nothing’s broken, at least. George’s head hangs low. ‘I haven’t had the time to clean up … nor was I expecting visitors. I called in sick to work and went back to sleep. I forget what happens when I don’t take my meds before I transform.’

‘Let me guess — the last time that happened was a year ago?’

‘Yeah, probably. I don’t know. That was — that was different. I guess I was too excited about our date that I forgot what yesterday was.’

I walk him to the sofa, and we sit down. The food is left to sit out on the coffee table. ‘It’s okay,’ I say, stroking his arm lovingly. ‘I wasn’t … I’m not freaked out or anything. I love horror and supernatural shit after all.’ I chuckle nervously, more so because I hate my tendency to resort to awful humour in an attempt to defuse tense situations. ‘So, um … I owe you an apology for laughing at you when you first told me.’

‘Don’t. I could’ve said something else. I didn’t. I wanted the clothes fast, and after the night I’d had, that was the most out-there thing I could think of in a snap.’

‘Yeah, then I made it into a thing between us! I call you “wolf boy”! You never asked me to stop! And I told everyone how we met! Everyone knows you’re a werewolf!’ I gasp. So. Many. Exclamation. Marks.

‘This is our thing. Only you know for certain. I feel like I can breathe now.’

I lay my head on his chest. ‘You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to hide.’

‘That first sentence sounds like something I’m supposed to say.’

‘So, George … about last night … was that because you were about to — or …’

His words come out almost in a snarl: ‘I wanted you. I want you.’ His lips are centimetres away from my neck. His breath is hot on my skin.

‘Are we like … mates now, then?’ I giggle as I draw an indiscriminate shape on his chest with my finger. I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time last night reading up on wolf behaviour. The thought of what lies in store for me is a little exhilarating, an observation I had a mild developmental crisis over when I felt that first pang of passion from applying what I read to our relationship.

‘Yes.’

He licks my neck. My core tingles with excitement at the ramifications of his declaration — for the record, I meant it as a light-hearted question — and at what’s about to come next, based on my research. Then he pushes me down onto my back, and I see his eyes, still blue, flicker with the same intensity as last night. He hikes up my dress and gets straight to nuzzling my mound. He laps his tongue over my underwear and inner thighs, the strokes long, soft. I hum impatiently. My underwear is getting soaked. He slides it off my pelvis, and he promptly buries his face in my folds. Fingers come into the picture soon after. I writhe in his grasp, desiring release.

And Lord, does it come.

I don’t get to wait for my legs to stop quivering, as he rises from between them and says, ‘On all fours, love’, his voice a lusty rasp. I scramble to my hands and knees. He’s never asked for this before. I’m liking this greater sense of freedom he now has around me. How much had he been holding back? I spread myself for him. He pushes his cock up against my slit. I let out a small, startled ‘Oh’ when he enters me. I feel pinpricks where his fingertips are. Each thrust is deep and brutal. It hurts a little, but it hurts so good. I press the side of my face into the couch and close my eyes. Stars crash into each other in the blackness behind my eyelids.

Though he’s the werewolf here, I’m the one whimpering and moaning like an animal, too, while he huffs and growls with each movement. The sounds encourage him. ‘Please, don’t stop, don’t stop …’ I breathe. My walls convulse around his girth and fill up with an unbearable heat and wetness. Come drips out of me and trickles down my thighs. Then his thrusts become shallower and rough, his fingertips threaten to leave bruises on my skin, and he empties himself inside me. He lets out a strangled howl; my lip almost bleeds from how hard I’m biting down.

I feel so empty, almost a little sad, when he pulls out. I settle into a lounging position on the sofa. He wedges himself behind me. I gently fondle his business, still hard. He resumes licking my neck, sometimes rubbing his face on my skin.

‘I’m sorry if that was … weird. It’s the first time I fucked like that — and the first time I fucked after the full moon.’

I turn around and kiss him. ‘You were amazing.’ His ears turn pink. ‘Am I your first girlfriend who knows?’

‘Yes. About being mates …’ He pulls me closer to him. ‘I can do something about that. If you want. No pressure. It’s a huge decision.’

I won’t lie and say I didn’t consider the idea at least once last night. The dream I had about transforming and running alongside him on all fours can attest to that. But I tell him, ‘I need to think about it first.’ I don’t want him to think I’m rushing headlong into something I have little to no knowledge about. (Tabbing back and forth between pages about wolf behaviour for at least two hours doesn’t make me an expert. I’m not even sure if it’s relevant.) I also wasn’t expecting this question to come up so soon, considering he thought I’d leave him. I sweep my thumb across his lips, then his nose. ‘Maybe if I see you in your wolf form first …’

‘Fair enough. Promise me you’ll still love me the same after you’ve seen him. He’s more fun than I am, even when hopped up on industrial-strength bear tranquiliser.’

‘It’s going to take a lot to top what I’ve seen in the last year — and the last hour.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m in trouble.’

I spend the day at his place. (What? I’m taking a mental health day, and being with my boyfriend does wonders for my mood.) We fuck several more times, unable to get enough of each other; we’re like lovesick puppies. He lets shades of his true self slip through on occasion. He assures me it’s not because of the full moon. I assure him I know. Until today, I didn’t think it’d been possible for him to become more alluring. I give him my answer to his offer before sunset, which he happily accepts. At the end of the day, I lie in my wolf boy’s arms, waxing gratitude for the graveyard shift at the corner shop a year ago.

[c-c-cherry]

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

 *looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

.

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

[mithrilhearts]

For the commentary thing! That reunion scene at the end of your latest chapter of May Your Forge Burn Bright 💖 I'm still living for that

May Your Forge Burn Bright - Chapter 9 The Reunion, you got it!

Commentary & scene under the cut - spoilers ahead

It was easier to walk with the wind than against it, but regardless of how fast Bilbo’s feet carried him, he was no match for a thunderstorm. Between the bone-shaking rumbles overhead and the blinding rain, it would be a miracle to make it halfway back to Ered Luin without crumbling or being swept away by the wind itself.

Wiping his sleeve against his eyes to try and get some of the water out of them, Bilbo wasn’t sure whether it was rainwater or tears that he was swiping away, but he certainly looked like a picture of perfect misery, and felt like one too! Soaked to the bone, stuck in a terrifying situation with no shelter, but there was a determined streak about him. Regardless of what he was putting up with now, he had all intentions to fix things with Thorin. If that meant they never completed their hillside conversation, then so be it. So long as the dwarf was in his life, then that was what mattered.

Another strike of lightning, that was far too close, hit one of the trees overhead, causing the tree to split down the trunk and for a good chunk of branches to start falling in Bilbo’s general direction. Not that he could hear or see it thanks to the sounds of the storm.

With his eyes screwed closed so tightly and keeping a sleeve over his face to protect himself from the rain, Bilbo didn’t see the oncoming form that got a firm grip on the front of his waistcoat and yanked him forward several paces and out of the way with a mighty yelp. It almost felt as if a wild animal had gotten a hold of him and Bilbo immediately tried to scramble, but the loud sound of part of a tree hitting the ground behind him had him prying open his eyes. Not to mention, he had been enveloped into a grip he was only vaguely familiar with.

Me, thinking to myself, how can I really make Bilbo M I S E R A B L E? Throw him into a storm, because we all know by now that he hates the damn things. This is probably his worst nightmare. YES, GOOD. I know, I know, I'm a monster. I've been told this a time or two.

Me, who doesn't watch romantic movies or read romance novels, etc. What's the best way to set up a reunion? See above. Put Bilbo in a terrifying situation and let him get saved at the last second. First I was thinking of like, maybe a wolf or orc attack, but if you've read Dragonhearted, Thorin already got to save Bilbo from wargs.

This whole damn scene was made up on the fly and I'm insanely proud of it. Moving on.

Hazel eyes tried to fight against the rain, but the water stopped for just a moment as a coat was being held over his head to block some of the weather, and it allowed Bilbo to look at what could have been his end. Being crushed under the force of falling branches...and yet…? “Thorin!” How? Why? Did Bilbo actually get knocked around so hard that he was stuck in a dream?

No, dreams didn’t feel that warm.

“You’re a foolish creature and should know better than to storm off by yourself!” Thorin scolded over the howling of the wind, a scowl to his face as he looked just as Bilbo remembered whenever these moods struck the dwarf. Unpleasant. “You could have been killed, I promised to keep you safe…” And Thorin would not let that promise fall through.

“You came for me…” Bilbo murmured, though unable to be heard over the sounds of rain and wind. Thorin’s coat might have acted as a decent enough shield against the actual rainwater, but it was nothing for the sounds. “I was on my way back! I needed to apologize for what I said, and I’m not sure how else I can express that. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry-”

“Maralmizu, Bilbo."

Bilbo’s ears twitched before dropping. Now was not the time for secrecy, they could play that game once they were out of this vicious weather. Not to mention, Bilbo had been trying to give a heartfelt apology. An annoyed huff came from the hobbit as he continued to stare at Thorin, caring less and less about thunder and lightning as the seconds ticked by. “What does that even mean, Thorin?” Though asking a dwarf to reveal their secrets was like trying to move a mountain with your bare hands.

“I love you,” Thorin was far gentler this time than the scolding he had started with, staring at Bilbo’s wide hazel eyes. “And I have for some time now and just...too afraid to say it. Too afraid that being me might scare you off, and it did...but I-”

“Oh, you really are a stupid dwarf!” That bold Tookish behavior was finding its way to the surface once more, no longer hiding in fear from a few unsavory blokes from Bree. Wrapping his hands around both of Thorin’s braids and standing on his toes, it didn’t take much guidance from Bilbo’s small tug for their lips to meet with eyes fluttering closed.

It felt like a missing piece had finally been slotted into place.

FINALLY. I'm so glad this hurdle has been addressed. Even I was getting like...okay boys, it's time to be honest here, have that talk, give the ol' smoochy smooch and let's move on! I wanted it to be something I hadn't read before, and maybe it's a little cliche with hollywood but hey, rain kisses are cute, aren't they?! Let them kiss - THORIN USING HIS WORDS. Look, I don't wanna sound cocky or complacent, but this scene had even me melting into a puddle of goo.

It's always nice when the writer loves their work, right???

I needed a memorable scene. Bilbo's afraid of storms, his life gets saved, and rain kiss. All perfect things for a perfect scene and it is one of my finer moments. Sometimes all it takes is a terrifying push to get someone to take that step. We got the kiss that I denied everyone in a few chapters previously, though let's be real, the fireflies would have been much better than lightning and rain water.

All that mutual pining and worrying about baggage and burdens was for nothing. It was irrelevant and could be tossed down the mountainside. Thorin wasn’t sure when the last time he had felt so light was. Was this what tossing your cares aside felt like?

Still keeping one arm up with the side of his coat as a shield from a good portion of the rain, Thorin’s other hand carefully cupped just below Bilbo’s jaw, rubbing a thumb across the small and barely visible cleft of that smooth chin.

Bilbo was the first to pull back, and found his cheeks aflame with Thorin inching forward as if to chase those lips before their eyes locked again. “As romantic as a kiss in the rain is…can we please go home?”

Was it too sappy to declare that a location didn’t make a home, but a person did?

“You’re my home,” Apparently not sappy enough for Thorin to spill the words. Funny how one small gesture removed an entire emotional blockade that he had been trying to keep up all this time.

Bilbo hummed slightly in delight at the words, giving a firm nod in agreement. “You’re my home too.” Dropping back to his normal height instead of being raised on his toes, Bilbo moved to lace his hand with Thorin’s free one. “Let’s get out of this storm then. I’d rather not catch a cold in all of this.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the idea of being sick. “Alright, but only because I’m not sure how susceptible hobbits are to colds. We dwarves are made of sterner stuff.”

Somehow, Bilbo didn’t quite believe that.

THE THEME OF THE STORY HAS HIT.

Home is where the heart is - it's one of my favorite themes to follow, or messages to send. Home isn't a place, it's the people you surround yourself with that make you the happiest. Whether that's family, a significant other, your best friends, that's what makes home. For these two, home has never been 'The Shire' or 'Ered Luin' or whatever places they've rested their head. I'm glad they both finally see that, and it's a message I like to put in a fair amount of my pieces, alongside some others.

And of course, another consistency that I love bringing into my pieces, Made of Sterner Stuff - based off of a one shot I did early on when posting my fics. Sick Thorin? Yes please. Plus, it's very fun to make fun of as he most certainly is not made of sterner stuff. Bilbo being the realistic one though and urging them to get out of the storm even thought it's "romantic and rainy"? That would be me.

This is nice and all, but...how about no?

As I said before, I wanted a scene you could picture, and one that would be remembered. Something that lived up to the epic expectations of Bagginshield and them finally spitting out the words we've been cheering them on to say. It might not be FIREFLIES and NORTHERN LIGHTS, but I sure as heck and happy with it and enjoy rereading it.

[carry-the-sky]

crashing in a million years late to fill the prompt “kastle + indigo skies just before dawn” from @juniperfandoms. i’m so sorry for the lateness, but i hope you enjoy! :D

.

oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,

and you fill my head with you.

.

Karen is used to waking up with the sun. Even before the Bulletin, before she was chasing down stories over cups of days-old coffee, eyes itchy with exhaustion as night bled into morning, even then it was just something she did. She’s never slept easy.

She doesn’t mind, though. There’s something about the way the city feels just before dawn, already restless and humming with potential energy. A new day—anything can happen.

.

There’s a bouquet of flowers on her desk at work. Roses—every last one of them white. Karen blinks at them, then bites her lip to cage the laugh that’s working its way up her throat.

He’s consistent, at least. She’ll give him that.

She can see a small piece of paper tied to one of the stems, and her pulse kicks up a notch. She remembers with stinging clarity what he told her in that hospital room, how resolute his rejection had been. Another door, slammed in her face. She should be furious with him, and she is, but—

But. Another part of her remembers light across water and his lips pressed to the hollow of her cheek, a stalled-out elevator and silence thick with all the words they couldn’t say to each other. Gunshots, his hands in her hair and the weight of him pressing her to the floor.

She trusts him. Always has, even when it didn’t make sense to. She still does.

The thought propels her forward, fingers grasping the note and eyes hastily scanning the words written there. There’s a familiar address, and beneath that:

Taking your advice.

.

He’s sitting on one of the benches when she gets there. She has to squint a bit against the sun, but there he is, one leg bouncing slightly and his hands clasped loosely at his knees. He’s staring across the water, away from her.

He looks the same. He looks like Frank.

“I have a phone, you know,” Karen says, and his head snaps in her direction. He stands as she approaches, one hand rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that’s achingly familiar.

“Wasn’t sure you wanted to see me,” he says.

Karen meets his gaze. His eyes are as dark as she remembers, but there’s something else, a softness she hasn’t seen before. It makes her heart clench, all her resolve and quiet anger dissolving on her tongue. Before she can talk herself down, she’s surging forward and pulling him into a hug.

He’s warm, solid in her arms. Karen’s pulse flutters when his hands slide around her waist. His touch is hesitant, careful—like he’s afraid he’ll hurt her. She holds him a bit tighter.

“And now?” she asks, voice muffled slightly where her mouth is pressed to his shoulder.

She feels it when he smiles, his lips curving against her temple. “Still all heart, huh?”

They pull away at the same time, slowly. She still can’t quite believe that this is real, that he’s standing here with her, his face free of bruises and a wry grin tugging the corners of his mouth. It’s honestly more than she thought she would ever get again.

She says as much, sliding onto the closest bench. “What changed, Frank?”

“Me,” he admits. “Didn’t wanna admit it, but—I was tired. All my bullshit—I was tired of all of it. Started thinking about Lisa and Junior—if they could see me, Karen—“

She reaches for his hand, squeezes gently.

“You were right, yeah?” he says. “What you said, about life. How we’re just fighting not to be alone. Figured I was fighting for all the wrong shit.”

Her heart is in her throat. She hopes she isn’t imagining the look on his face, raw and vulnerable. Hopes she isn’t making something more out of this than what’s really there. She trusts him, yes—against her better judgment—but he’s pushed her away more than once. She needs to know that this means something.

“Frank—“ she starts to say at the same moment her phone alarm trills. He gently pulls his hand away, and she knows she isn’t imagining the way the pad of his thumb lingers on her wrist. She wants to reach for him again—instead, she fishes out her phone. She’s late for a meeting with a source, and she’s already rescheduled once.

“Work,” she says, trying to veil her disappointment. “I should probably go.”

Frank’s lips twitch. “Look forward to readin’ about it on the front page.”

“Shut up,” she says, but she’s smiling.

He glances down as she stands, then tilts his head to catch her eyes again. He looks like he wants to say something, lips slightly parted and his eyes on her, unflinching. It’s a stark contrast to the last time they were here, when he was still fighting his war, still scared. He’d walked away first—showing her he cared, the only way he knew how. He’s not walking away now.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says, more a statement than a question.

Frank’s eyes soften. “Soon,” he echoes.

It almost sounds like a promise.

.

He’s outside her apartment a week later, a bag of groceries in hand.

Karen huffs a laugh. “So, when you said you wanted to do dinner—“

She says it lightly enough, but she doesn’t miss the frown that flickers across his face, there and gone the next moment. “This okay?” he asks, and something twinges in her chest.

“Frank. I’ve been living off of ramen and wine for the past week. It’s more than okay.” She’s hoping that will pull a smile out of him, and it does. She’s suspended in the moment, the easy way his mouth creases into a crooked grin. Frank Castle, happy. She could get used to that.

He makes himself at home in the kitchen in a way that should be surprising, but isn’t. Karen can picture him cooking dinner for his family just as easily as he handles a gun. She knows better than most that Frank is more than what people say he is.

Before long, he’s got a pot of spaghetti boiling on one burner and vegetables sautéing on another, filling the room with a savory aroma. Karen’s not even a little embarrassed when her stomach rumbles in appreciation.

They eat on her couch. Neither of them says much, but the silence is comfortable. That’s something she’s always liked about Frank—he doesn’t talk for the sake of it. His words have weight, when he chooses them.

He refuses to let her take care of the dishes—“still old-fashioned, I see,” she jabs—so Karen settles back onto the couch, not quite sure what to do with herself. She’s been on her own for so long, she’s forgotten what it feels like to have someone else in her space—especially when that someone is the Punisher, making her dinner and cleaning her dishes. She casts a glance over her shoulder to see him forearms-deep in soapy water, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on one of the pans.

If someone had told her a week ago that this is how she’d be spending her evening, she would have laughed right in their face.

It’s still light outside, and warm for this time of year, so she grabs two beers and leads him up to her building’s roof. The sun is low in the sky, turning the clouds to cotton-candy. Familiar sounds fill her ears, the rush of traffic, horns blaring.

Karen turns to face Frank, holding up her beer. “To a delicious dinner that covered all the food groups,” she says. “My arteries thank you.”

Frank clinks his bottle against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Seriously, Frank. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Yeah?” He looks at his feet, shifting his weight slightly. “I’m glad. Uh—not that you haven’t had a good meal, but—you know. Glad to help.” He blows out a breath. “Christ.”

“Easy, soldier,” Karen says, nudging him with her elbow. “Take a breath. You’re doing just fine.”

He glances sidelong at her, smirking. “Didn’t think I’d be this nervous to see you again. I feel like a goddamn teenager.”

“It’s me, Frank. I don’t bite.”

He bobs his head, then tips his drink back. Quiet envelops them again, but there’s a tension to it this time, an undercurrent of nerves.

“Can I ask you something?” she finally says.

“Shoot.”

Karen’s stomach churns. A warning sign, maybe, but she pays it no heed. “At the hospital,” she says slowly, tasting each word. “If Amy hadn’t walked in on us—what were you going to do?”

She isn’t looking at him, but she can feel his eyes on her like a brand. Warmth stirs low in her gut. So make it mean something.

He moves closer, reaching to take the beer from her hands. She’s dimly aware of him setting the bottles on the ground, and then he’s touching her, thumb sweeping the line of her jaw. He’s close enough that she can see the creases in the corner of his eyes, a faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks. His eyes dart to her lips.

“Frank,” she breathes, and then his mouth is on hers.

His lips are softer than she expects. She hums low in her throat, arms sliding around his neck to pull him closer. The world narrows to her pulse in her ears, the jagged hitch of Frank’s breath when he pulls back to look at her.

“That answer your question?” he rasps.

She ghosts her lips over his, once, twice. “I need some clarification on a few points.”

Frank grins and kisses her again. His tongue swipes her lower lip, hungry but not demanding, and heat fissures up her spine. She’s wanted this for so long—wanted him—and her heart thuds painfully beneath her ribs as she deepens the kiss. Her hands skate the side of his face and she buries her fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to sting.

He breaks away, his mouth trailing a line of fire from her jawline down the column of her throat. Karen gasps, letting her neck fall back. Somehow, he’s positioned her so that her back is against the building—both hands cradle her neck as he presses against her. Her hands are everywhere, sliding down his chest and grasping his waist. She never wants to stop touching him.

Her fingers drop to his pants, fumbling with the zipper, and Frank’s mouth comes crashing fervently back to hers. His fingers dig into her hips, tugging her skirt up so it’s around her waist. Then his hand slips below the fabric and skims the inside of her thigh. Her entire body spasms.

“Shit,” he hisses, dropping his head to the juncture of her shoulder. “We shouldn’t—not here—“

“I have a perfectly good bed downstairs,” she gasps, breathless.

His eyes shutter. “Fuck, Karen.” He tips his forehead to rest against hers. “You sure about this?”

Her heart is so full she thinks it might burst from her chest. She presses a whisper-soft kiss to his cheek, threads their hands together. “Two hands, right?”

This time, he doesn’t let go.

.

Karen wakes to darkness and an empty bed.

The sheets are tangled between her legs, cool against her bare skin. She draws them around her as she sits up. The other side of the bed is still warm. She sucks in a breath as pieces of the previous night spin behind her eyes like a kaleidoscope—Frank laying her down, his body above, beneath, around her.

Karen untangles herself from the sheets carefully, then feels around the room for her clothes. There’s a trail of discarded garments going down the hallway, and she flushes. They hadn’t quite made it to her bedroom, the first time. She gropes around in the dark until she finds something that feels like a shirt, and it’s only when she’s pulling it over her head that she realizes it’s Frank’s.

The grey of early morning presses behind her living room window, casting fractured shadows across the floor. Karen doesn’t see him on the couch or in the kitchen. Her pulse skips a beat. If he left without saying goodbye—

She’s giving the room another sweeping glance when she spots his silhouette on the fire escape. Grinning despite herself, she opens the window and crawls through to join him.

He’s perched on the balcony, wrapped in the throw blanket from her couch. “Hey,” he says when he sees her, voice gravelly with sleep. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

She shakes her head. “I’m an early-riser. I think the last time I slept past six a.m. was when I was in school.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She shuffles closer and Franks spreads an arm wide, draping half of the blanket over her shoulders as she settles beside him. The city is quiet, but there are stirrings of life—lights flicking on in apartments across the street, the rattle of a metal security gate as the bakery below opens up for the day. The sky above them is still dark, but the horizon blushes pink and indigo.

A new day. Anything could happen.

She’s not sure how long she stares out across the city, but she jolts a little when Frank’s lips brush softly against her temple.

“Easy,” he says, his breath warm on her skin. “I don’t bite.”

“Using my own words against me,” she murmurs, tilting her head to capture his mouth in a soft kiss. She starts to pull back, but he slides a hand around her neck and kisses her deeper, all heat and urgency. They’re both panting when they break apart.

“Nice shirt,” he says. “Looks good on you.”

“I swear to God, if you’re about to say it would look better on my floor—“

He tips his head back and laughs, and Karen swears it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. She’s momentarily lost in it, the effortless sound of his happiness. It’s enough to make her heart crack in half.

She doesn’t realize she’s staring until he nudges her gently. “Hey—you okay?”

Karen lays her palm on his chest. “Your ‘after’—I always pictured something like this.”

“What—me sitting half-naked on your fire escape?”

She smirks. “You, happy. The half-naked thing is a bonus.”

Frank slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. “I pictured you.”

“Now that’s a line,” Karen says, curling up next to him. She wonders if she’ll ever get used to feeling like this, buoyant with happiness.

But that’s a question for another day.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

The Untamed AU where the cast plays D&D.

For the five headcanons meme!  Sorry for the delay, we had a houseguest!

Nie Huaisang DMs, obviously.  He’s a rule-heavy kind of DM, a “every city has a sewer system fully mapped out and every character has a motive” kind of DM, and Mingjue complains about the books and maps and figures taking up a whole shelf in their apartment, but he also buys his brother a nice DM screen for his birthday one year, so.  If there’s a criticism to be had for Huaisang as a DM, it’s that he sometimes keeps things a little too close to the vest, which is either accidental because he’s a big-picture thinker or on purpose because he thinks it’s funny to watch his party lose their goddamn minds with paranoia.  No one can tell and holy shit does no one trust him because of it.  He killed Wen Ning’s character one time (okay, like, six times) and suddenly Wen Qing’s cleric won’t let any NPCs within ten feet of them without Zone Truthing their ass.

The Party consists of Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, Wen Ning, and Wen Qing, plus Lan Wangji who doesn’t know what DnD is when Wei Wuxian first approaches him but got railroaded into “having friends” and “socializing” by Xichen, we’ll get to him.  

Wei Wuxian is a bard, obviously, he’s the party face and specializes in controlling the battlefield (and their enemies) rather than doing buffs, because they have two clerics and therefore have the buffs thing well in hand.  He also took a bunch of feats that let him use other class magic and between his weird affinity for necromancy and his ludicrous proficiency block (bards, baby), he’s absolutely the most mechanically broken character in the party.

Jiang Cheng is a straight up and down fighter, he has a sword and seven attacks and he’ll make it everyone’s (read: Wei Wuxian’s) problem.  He deals damage to their bard about once per session, on average, and won’t admit that he likes the game, but also gets very annoyed when they’re late.  

Jiang Yanli is also a cleric, and game-changing buffs, like Bless/Bane, are her entire jam, Nie Huaisang understands that Yanli is the most perfect being ever to draw breath but also he hates her so much.  Every time they start a big dramatic fight and they get to her, Yanli very gently says “I would like to cast…” and Huaisang starts marking down stat changes.

Wen Qing, therefore, can mostly save her spells for healing, and also she has an axe.  Don’t ask questions.  

Wen Ning is a ranger and he actually has a great Charisma score (this beautiful child used Con as a dump stat, thus his several untimely demises and his sister’s total distrust of everyone), and Huaisang bridges the gap between Wen Ning’s IRL stutter and shyness and his mechanically excellent numbers by basically making every benevolent NPC they meet adopt him.  His ranger is legally the heir to a dukedom.

Lan Wangji joins the game several levels in, because Wei Wuxian texted him about it every week and then cheated and texted Xichen, who cheerfully bullied his brother into it and then went out to get drinks with Mingjue.  His paladin is basically just Himself, But Sword Magic, and he has never made a non-magic-related Charisma roll in his life.  Jiang Cheng, who does not trust Wuxian to be their party face, is tearing his hair out–Wangji’s paladin has a great Cha score!  His magic is very reliable!  He could be such a good party face!  But no, he seems totally content to let Wei fucking Wuxian get them all arrested by the king of wherever.  No one can figure out how Lan Wangji of all people knows enough about DnD to design his character, actually?  These are advanced weird feats, where did he find them????  (It eventually comes to light that he has been getting coffee with Wei Wuxian once a week and letting him level up his character as an excuse to go on dates.)

The Plot basically starts out as the Sunshot Campaign, with elements of a few other major plot devices sprinkled in for flavor.  Wen Ning and Wen Qing are enemy plants for, mm, three sessions tops before Wen Ning blurts out all their secrets to the rest of the party (”They’re our friends, a-jie!  We can’t–we can’t lie to them!”  “Remember how we’re going to be murdered if we don’t help Ruohan, we can absolutely lie to them.”).  Wei Wuxian is gone for three months of sessions in a row after a massive falling out with Madam Yu leads to him having to scramble to keep his college scholarships and also figure out somewhere to live, and then he moves in with the Wens and his life stabilizes a bit and he gets pneumonia that lays him flat out.  He’s fine, trust Wen Qing, he’s just annoying.  During that time period, it becomes evident that, A, Lan Wangji actually does enjoy at least some of their company on its own merits, because he keeps coming to sessions, and, B, Jiang Cheng is extremely transparently working through some stuff in-game.  It’s the most civilly he’s worked with Wangji this whole time, though, so Yanli will take it.

Jiang Yanli is not saying that she and Huaisang engineered this because she decided that she was sick of listening to her brother pine obliviously, and because she decided that she and Jiang Cheng should bond with their future brother-in-law, and because, okay, the Wens needed some friends in, like, the worst way.  But she’s not not saying that.  Huaisang really does believe that Yanli is the most perfect person in the world, if he was straight he would marry her tomorrow, but also fucking stop Blessing your party, you make his life so hard.

Bonus Sixth Headcanon

Jin Zixuan talks an extremely big game about DnD being a ridiculous game for people who can’t make friends like normal people (he says, like he has even one friend besides Mianmian).  This provides a lot of material for the party to roast his ass when he starts dating Yanli (again, after a short and horrifically awkward relationship arranged by their parents when they were in high school) and she brings him, complete with rogue character sheet.  He’s good at everything that isn’t Being Civil To Other Characters, and to Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng’s abject horror, the three of them work together like a well-oiled machine.

Yes, Jiang Yanli is very satisfied with her life choices, why do you ask?

[angelicmichael]

Is this love, part two

Xavier Plympton x serial killer! Reader

Summary: Reader is in inner turmoil once again and it starts to put a strain of her and Xavier’s relationship.

Words: 3.7K+

A/N: it feels so good to be uploading again 😭 sorry this took me so long to write! This starts out really dark, gets fluffy in the middle and angst in the end.

Warnings: Basically the same as the first chapter. Descriptions of violence and wanting to murder, but the murder isn’t actually described. Light touching but it’s definetly not smut by any means 😳

Previous Chapter

The past couple of days had simultaneously been the worst and the best week of your life. Admittedly the memories of it were particularly foggy due to how much weed you and Xavier smoked but some scenes seemed to linger in the back of your mind.

Most of the memories you still had were of you and Xavier being cramped close together in the Vanta-C, basically repeating the night of which you two had first met. The sweet parts consisted of you two sharing kisses, cuddling and being attached to the hip - but it got to a point quickly where you needed to take a break.

You felt entirely guilty for doing so and it wasn’t because you nessacarily wanted too but it had gotten to the point where it was what you needed to do.

Just because you were now head over heels in love didn’t mean the urge to kill went away; if anything it grew stronger.

Well, the urge to kill Xavier anyway completly diminished. The way you had become utterly infatuated with him made it impossible to think about killing Xavier; in fact, even you couldn’t even really picture doing it anymore without almost bringing yourself to tears.

However, whenever you weren’t high as a kite and you could actually think coherent thoughts - all that remained was dark urges and impulses. The urge to kill hadn’t left you, it was completely foolish to think that it would have just because you fell in love for the first time.

Coming to terms with that you would never be normal was starting to destroy you. You knew that Xavier’s perception of you was far from reality, to him you were this sweet, loving, innocent girl who needed protecting when really.. it was the opposite. You were the monster. You really were the wolf in sheep’s clothing, you were the one who made men bleed out slowly and relished in their pain and suffering.. and up until you met Xavier you weren’t ashamed of that part of you. However, now it was suddenly your dirty secret and it made you incredibly uncomfterable.

You wanted nothing more to just be another typical woman, worrying about what man they would be sleeping with next instead of worrying who your next victim would be. You wanted nothing more than your future to be spent with Xavier in bliss; being a housewife, having a couple children in the suburbs was something you craved for yourself so fucking badly you could almost taste it. But instead, you just tasted the metallic sweet taste of blood from biting your tongue so fucking hard.

You would try your damn hardest to have that future if that’s what made Xavier happy. Fuck, you would do anything for him.. execpt stop killing of course. You wanted to stop, you really did but you couldn’t. You were already pushing your limits when you met Xavier, and now you were over the fucking edge.

It had been about a week since you met Xavier, and you managed to go this far without killing anyone but today was the breaking point, you were planning to keep brushing it off but Xavier was starting to notice. It was nearly like a damn addict having withdrawals, you were visibly tense - your jaw was constantly clenched and the rest of your body was in a constant state of being rigid. Irritability was another frequent symptom you felt, you started to snap at Xavier for things that didn’t even fucking make sense.

You knew you were running out of time before you would snap and accidently hurt Xavier once even smoking weed didn’t work to distract you from how badly you wanted to fucking kill.

So here you were; you and Xavier were always together, you basically lived with him now so you managed to make up a bullshit excuse to get away. About how one of your friends was really sad and needed you tonight - and of course he bought it.

You parked the Vanta C a couple blocks away; your game plan was different this time. You weren’t planning on taking your next victim ‘home’ to try and seduce them, you just needed a fast fix.

You already decided the death of whomever happened to cross paths with you would be a quick one, painful sure, but relatively fast nonetheless. It would happen here - in the dark alleyway of which you currently stood in. You didn’t have any plans of what to do with the body afterwards; which was unlike you but at this point you could barely think coherent enough thoughts to even focus enough on the task that you had your mind set on doing.

You stopped thinking entirely when you saw a shadowed figure turn the corner and enter the alleyway. No thoughts entered your mind as you could only act on what you felt and truly craved to do.

~

Only a hour had passed; it was passed midnight but also not quite yet in the early hours of morning. The sky was still painted a dark black, with the stars and the moon being your light source as you made your way back to your boyfriends van.

Taking a life definetly relieved some tension from you, but you felt fucking awful. It wasn’t that you felt bad for killing someone, you felt awful for lying to Xavier and using his fucking car for your dirty work.

You felt depressed; and for some reason this made you careless.

You had enough sense to bring your knife back with you atleast. You drove back quickly to Xavier’s apartment, hoping to just slip back into bed beside him without him questioning why you were back so quickly.

You really should’ve taken your time but for some reason; you just wanted tonight’s events to be over and done with. It wasn’t anything for you to be proud of anymore; it was now something you were starting to hate about yourself.

As you stepped out of the van and went to up to Xavier’s apartment; you couldn’t help but think how there was no denying how Xavier was starting to change you. How did it even make sense that a boy you just met a week ago was starting to make you feel love? It wasn’t only that but it nearly made you sick how in love you were with Xavier already - it was almost as if he had you under a spell. He made you want to be better, to become a version of yourself you weren’t even sure exsisted - a version that wasn’t a killer.

You entered the apartment as slowly as you possibly could - shutting the door achingly slow - praying he was still asleep. You tiptoed across the apartment as you dropped your keys also painfully slowly onto the counter before you started to walk toward the bedroom door.

You noted how the light looked to be off inside of his bedroom, thank god. You opened the door and you got ready for bed as humanely quiet as possible.

You slipped into the bed, Xavier was already on one side - as if he was anticipating your return and he left room for you. You couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness of the gesture as you pulled the partially warm covers over your body, and sank into the mattress.

You turned over to go to sleep and as you shut your eyes - you were so close to being able to achieve your goal of not waking up Xavier - until you felt it. A warm hand ran lovingly accross your back, letting you know that Xavier was very much awake. You bit your tongue and couldn’t help but clench your eyes shut with frustration briefly.

“(y/n)”? Xavier spoke.

His voice was low and gravely, and as you rolled over to face him you noticed how his eyes barely even appeared to be open - his once baby blue eyes appeared black; colorless because of how dark the room was.

You couldn’t help but smirk as Xavier sleepily outstretched his arms to bring you in closer - and you happily did so. You shimmied yourself just enough so that Xavier could wrap a arm around you, and even entangled your legs together. You heard him kick the blanket off since it seemed to be getting in his way of getting closer to you - which made you giggle. He put his head on top of yours, his chin resting on top of your head.

You closed your eyes; fully in bliss and drinking him in. His scent, his warmth, everything about him. You were at such peace to the point where you almost forgot of today’s events until your heard the soft rumble of Xavier’s voice once again.

He took his head off of yours and scooted back just a bit - just enough so that your foreheads were almost touching.

“Where were you”? You heard him ask.

You swallowed before answering, your voice wavering as you spoke.

“At my friends house, like I told you. Remember”? Your words came out as a whisper but you spoke fast and quick. You know it seemed too well rehearsed, and Xavier wasn’t going to buy it. You were only gone a hour anyway and you told him you wouldn’t be back until tommorow.

Just through the darkness you could see the corners of his mouth upturn, he was starting to smile.

“You don’t smell like you were at your friends house”. Xavier said with a laugh and you brushed it off with a giggle but when in reality; your blood ran cold.

It was no wonder that you didn’t smell fantastic; After all you did change into pajamas but into the appropriate bottoms - you took your bra off and figured that you could still wear the shirt you were wearing ealier to bed.. apparently that was a big fucking mistake. Also the fact that your hair wasn’t exactly at its prime peak of being clean - it contained sweat from ealier and, probably even droplets of blood honestly.

“What is that supposed to mean”? You retorted playfully. Your noses about a mere inch apart.

“It means that you smell like you’ve been rolling around in the dirt outside”. Xavier mumbled and quickly pecked you on the lips.

You tried to keep kissing him - dumbly assuming that his intentions were to make out with you but you were left feeling dumbfounded and unsatisfied as you felt him quickly pull away. Xavier’s voice, soft and gravely quietly spoke - his lips were barely apart from yours; as if he was trying to tease and taunt you from how close he remained.

“Go shower and when you come back.. Maybe I’ll have a surprise waiting for you”. Xavier quickly kissed you one last time before he scooted farther way, untangling his legs from yours before he rolled onto his back. You huffed in protest as you sat up in the bed.

“Shower? Xavier it’s fucking midnight”! You retorted, a quick glance at the red beside clock Xavier kept confirmed your suspicions of how late it was.

“You better hurry then babe. Don’t keep me waiting”. Xavier taunted as you let out another exasperated noise.

You slowly and painfully peeled yourself off of the bed as you dragged yourself over to the bathroom; ready to take a world record breaking fast shower.

~

You contemplated if it was really necessary to put clothes on at all after your shower. You knew Xavier wouldn’t mind if you came out of the bathroom stark naked but for the sole reason of not wanting to feel too exposed, you settled on some nice lingerie.

Putting on lingerie this late at night definetly felt odd but you tried to shake the feeling off as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

It took you a minuete for your eyes to adjust to the darkness - your sure you looked stupid as you stood there squinting - but you soon came to realize that he had fucking fell asleep. You would be lying if you said you weren’t dissapointed or upset, but you figured he was just tired. There was no reason for Xavier to be acting distant, right?

Slipping into more comfortable pajamas, you slid into bed once again next to Xavier and drifted off quickly into sleep.

~

The first thing you noticed when you woke up besides how good it felt to finally not be so tense; was that the bed was empty. And cold. You tried to search out Xavier’s body but you couldn’t find it, and with a defeated huff you sat up.

It was easy to tell where Xavier went. The bedroom door was left slightly ajar and you could see a dim light coming from it, most likely from the living room. You couldn’t hear exact words but you could hear a low rumbling sound as if someone was talking - he was watching tv.

To confirm your suspicions you got up stood in the doorway, opening the doorway just enough to poke your head out and yell at the bastard to come back to bed.

He sat on the small couch that was placed in front of the TV. You contemplated calling out his name to make your prescence known but something made you wait, and your glad you did.

Xavier was watching the news, some early morning talk show. They were currently discussing breaking news and a mass warning; telling people to keep their doors locked and be on the lookout for suspicious activity due to a murder that had occurred last night.

You felt a shiver run through your body, the case on the television was starting to sound way too familiar to you. You walked back into the living room slowly, not wanting to startle Xavier.

You went to go sit in his lap, he greeted you with a lazy “Hey babe”, and kissed you on the side of your mouth before giving the screen his undivided attention, and to be fair; you choose to do the same.

Sure enough; the woman on the screen seemed to describe the murder you committed last night perfectly. Almost too perfectly, and the fact that Xavier was attentively listening to this was starting to make you feel gross, and paranoid. Even though the killer still remained anonymous you felt as if someone was reading your diary out loud like they were seeing a private part of your life that no one else was supposed to have access to but yourself. You felt exposed, and you fucking hated it.

You had to distract Xavier, that was clear so you did it the easiest way you know how. You turned your head and stared at him for a second, admiring his beauty before you gently placed a hand on his soft cheek - turning it gently so that he was actually staring at you. He looked surprised, his eyebrows slightly knitted together but he didn’t dare say anything.

You leaned in swiftly, catching his lips with yours as you started to melt into the kiss and into him. You shifted your legs so that you straddle him, and you left his hands softly go to your back. You felt his hands gradually go lower, and lower until you felt the slight coolness of his hands on your skin as he slipped his hands your shirt.

You knew the windows were open and that everyone could probably see how cozy you and Xavier were getting but you figured that this was currently the least of your worries since that the damn reporter had spilled all your secrets. None of the bodies from your previous murders had been found, this was the first time you were getting press coverage and you were livid. You needed something to take your frustration out on, and you needed it now. The killer was still anonymous; it wasn’t like you were getting credit for it - and that’s what pissed you off more than anything.

You stopped kissing Xavier for a split second, just enough to grab the tv remote that was by Xavier’s thigh to turn the damn tv off. You turned back to him and watched how Xavier first looked completely pissed but then he smirked. You brought yourself in close to him once more and you felt his hands immeaditly slide under your shirt again, his hands this time on your side near your hips instead of your back. You felt his hands travel south but as you two kissed you but Xavier’s lip playfully before you felt him draw away from you. The making out and the light touching seemed to be working as a perfect distraction, like how you thought it would until.. it didn’t. He was the first to pull away. You felt hurt and confused at first while you waited for him to say something.

“I’m not stupid”. Xavier stated, acting as if he was too nervous to meet your eyes - and when he did all you saw was uncertainty, nervousness and a bit of fear which made your stomach churn. You quickly realized where this conversation was going so you awkwardly pulled your shirt down and pulled yourself off of his lap, opting to sit next to him instead.

“Xavier, I never said you were. Where is this coming from”? You asked.

“(Y/n), I need you to tell me the truth. Where were you last night”? Xavier asked, his cercealan blue eyes seemed to shimmer as you quickly realized he had tears in his eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you knew you absolutely could not tell the truth; no matter how much you truly wanted too. You had to play it cool.

“Xavier i swear to god I was at my friends house. Please believe me-“

“Then tell me why you happen to go missing at the exact time that man was murdered last night”?!

Xavier said, his voice rough and rugged with anger. His facial expressions and his voice were telltale signs of how mad he was, his eyes wide and his eyebrows slightly furrowed down.

“I know that wasn’t a coincidence. And I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t see that red stain on your shirt last night”. Xavier finished.

You took a quick breath and replied so quickly that you didn’t really have time to think about what you were saying.

“Do you even know what your accusing me of, Xavier? Did you really think I’m a fucking killer, do you know how absurd that is”? You said, your voice high pitched as you continued to try and persuade Xavier with your well written lie.

Tears stung your eyes, and you figured there was no use in holding them in. You couldn’t lose Xavier, you just couldn’t. He had to believe your lie, there was no other way. You sniffled as Xavier chose to stay quiet you decided to throw him more evidence for your ‘non killer I’m innocent’ claims.

“The red stain on my shirt was spaghetti sauce, me and my friend got high last night and we decided to make spaghetti last minuete. I didn’t tell you cause I knew it would sound fucking crazy... And I smelt so awful because we had to go find somewhere outside to go smoke”. You said.

You tried to meet Xavier’s eyes but he continued to stare at the ground. He slowly looked up at you, a tear or two running down from his eye to the bottom of his jawline. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off, to tell him that everything would be okay but you couldn’t. You were too much at a risk already of losing him to take the chance of setting him off on top of it. Xavier kept staring at you, not daring to say a word. You slowly spoke up,

“Xavier..” you felt brave so you leaned forward slightly; waiting for him to make any sudden movements to get up or turn away from you but he didn’t. You kept going until you were close enough to choose to touch him if you wanted, and you couldn’t help but notice how tears continued to gently fall down his cheeks.

You brought your hand up slowly; again waiting for him to flinch but he let you gently brush his tears away. You felt his hand grab yours and made you cup his cheek; and that’s when he fully broke down - the tears that were once lightly falling were now cascading, and his breathing became labored from how instensly he was crying and you couldn’t help but wrap both of your arms around him and just hold him.

You blinked back the tears, knowing it was more important to comfort Xavier than to show him you were hurting as well. You gently stroked his back as you felt your shoulder grow wet with his tears. It was hard at first to even hear his voice through all the sobbing but you made out a few words.

“(Y/n), I’m so sorry”. You could feel the sobs continue to wreck through his body as you basically held him, and you felt horrible. Suddenly you felt Xavier separate a bit from you, enough to look at you in the eyes. You were still embraced, but now holding each other’s arms a bit more loosely.

“Xav, it’s okay-“

“No it’s not. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, but we can make it through this. Me and a couple of friends are going to camp redwood for the summer, to get away from this crazy killer but babe? Come with me please”? Xavier asked you.

The sadness and misery you had felt a mere seconds ago but it seemed to immeaditly dissipate. You didn’t have to contemplate or think about it at all; the words flew out of your mouth.

“Yes, Xavier! I’d love too”! You said with a wide grin.

You wrapped your hands around his shoulders and engulfed him in a deep hug. You didn’t even consider how odd it must’ve looked to him how fast your mood changed. You were just truly greatful that you weren’t losing Xavier.

You still seemed to have him pinned under your claws.. and it wasn’t like you wouldn’t be able to find any victims at camp redwood, there would be plentiful. It would be as easy as finding fish in water. The difficult part? Keeping your dirty secret hidden from the one you loved most.

Taglist: @nj01 @mina672 @guiltyfiend @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @9layerdevilsfoodcake

[wesleyhill]

A New World of Wedded Bliss

A homily on Mark 10:2-16, preached at Trinity Cathedral, Pittsburgh, on the Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost 2021

In the Name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

One of the things I like about preaching in the Episcopal Church is that we preachers don’t get to choose our own Bible passages. They’re decided for us by the lectionary, the schedule of readings or “lessons” that we share with a lot of other churches, including the Roman Catholic Church. The good thing about that is that it keeps you from being subject to my particular whims as to what to preach on. And it keeps me and the other preachers here honest: we are forced to confront passages we’d maybe rather not talk about. We’re forced to grapple with what St. Paul referred to as “the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27) — the entire sweep of what God has spoken, even the bits we’re confused about or resistant to or scared of.

I confess, I would rather not have to preach about Jesus’ challenging words from our Gospel reading today. And, truthfully, I could wriggle out of it by choosing to preach on one of our other readings for this morning; that’s always an option. But I remember what I once heard a great preacher say: if your preaching is consistently failing to address the questions that your congregation has about the Bible, then you’re going to frustrate your congregation. I know many of you were paying attention as the Gospel was read just now, and I know you were probably struggling to relate Jesus’ words to your own histories and families and relationships. How do we make that connection? — that linkage between what Jesus says and the lives we’re actually living? That’s what preaching is meant to help you do, and so, with God’s help, I’m going to try this morning.

As I was thinking about our Gospel lesson this week, I came across an article in the New York Times, published this past Thursday. Written by Lara Bazelon, it was titled: “Divorce Can Be an Act of Radical Self-Love.” The author talks about how she felt her marriage was keeping her from living fully into her sense of purpose and gifting. She says upfront that there was no emotional or physical abuse and that she is still in love with her ex, even after the divorce. Then she says: “I divorced my husband not because I didn’t love him. I divorced him because I loved myself more.” And here’s how the article concludes: “I no longer think of divorce as shameful or feel sorry for people who tell me that they have decided to end their marriages… My divorce spared my children… pain and let me live the life I was meant to. I view that as an accomplishment.”

I am fully aware that, in our fallen, broken world, divorce is sometimes necessary, sometimes best. But I think the way this article frames the matter — that divorce isn’t something to feel sad about, to mourn over — doesn’t do justice to the way many of us experience divorce. We may feel that our marriage had to end, but that doesn’t take away the ache we still feel, the wistfulness and sadness and self-doubt that can still stab us at odd moments. We may feel that we made the best choice, given the circumstances, but that doesn’t stop us from feeling like we let ourselves down — or let our ex-partner, or our children, or our parents, or our priest down.

One of the gifts our Gospel reading gives us this morning is permission to mourn divorce. If you still lament the divorce you went through, or your parents went through, or your sibling or best friend went through — if, no matter how many positive self-help podcasts you’ve listened to or therapies you’ve invested in, you still feel somehow that divorce is a tragic thing — then you can take some comfort in our reading this morning. Because the main message of it is: It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Let’s rehearse the details. Some religious leaders come to Jesus, who himself is a publicly recognized religious teacher and authority, and they pose an ethical question. They ask him whether it’s a lawful to divorce one’s wife (notice, they, who are men, don’t ask anything about the wife; her perspective and protection don’t seem to matter to them). Secretly, they’re setting a trap for Jesus. They themselves aren’t in agreement about the religious legality of divorce, and by trying to force Jesus to pick a side in their debate, they expect he’ll embarrass himself with a large segment of his audience, one way or the other, and that’s exactly what they want. In short, they’re using a debate about divorce as an opportunity to try to drag Jesus down into a partisan spat and thereby discredit him.

True to form, Jesus doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he turns the question back on them: “What did Moses command you?” In other words, what does our shared Scripture have to say about the matter? Jesus asks. And they point out, rightly enough, that the Jewish law allows a man to divorce his wife. And then Jesus takes them off guard and reorients the entire conversation by reminding them that in the same law — the Jewish law, the Torah, that permits divorce — there’s the story at the very beginning, in the very first two chapters of the Bible, before any evil has marred the story, of God creating a man and a woman and blessing them to become “one flesh,” one new indissoluble pair. So, Jesus says, it must be because we are fallen and diminished and rendered incapable of keeping even the commitments that we most want to keep — that must be why divorce happens, because in the Bible’s depiction of the bliss of human life as God wants it to be, divorce isn’t part of the picture at all. “Because of your hardness of heart,” Jesus says, the law of Moses permitted divorce. “But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’” In the world as God wants it to be, there simply are no autonomous selves in a marriage to tweeze apart in divorce.

Jesus, in other words, is simply refusing to be drawn into a debate as to when divorce is appropriate or inappropriate, when it may be justified or merely frivolous. He’s calling us to imagine a world without divorce on the table as an option at all. He’s inviting us to imagine existing in an atmosphere where love really is everything it’s cracked up to be, where promises really are kept, and violence and indifference and cruelty and boredom and spite really are nowhere to be seen. He’s calling us to imagine a world that doesn’t exist, in other words.

Except… maybe it does.

One of the scarlet threads that runs through the entire Bible, both Old and New Testaments, is that God has a spouse. God’s spouse is you and me. God’s spouse is Israel, His chosen people. God’s spouse is the church of Jesus Christ, Jesus being portrayed as the Bridegroom and we, His people, as His bride. And in the story Scripture tells, from beginning to end, God does not divorce us. No matter how many times we rebuff God, or thumb our noses at God, or give God the cold shoulder, or storm out and slam the door in God’s face, God goes on loving us. God loves and loves and loves us, all the way to whatever miserable end we find our path to, and then God loves us beyond that, opening up a future for us, forgiving us of all the ways we’ve turned our backs on God and others, and promising us a new creation in which there will be no more grief, despair, loneliness, resentment, abuse, neglect, or anything else that would try to undo our bonds with each other. In Jesus Christ God goes all the way down into death for us, and in Christ’s resurrection on Easter Sunday morning we see the ultimate triumph of God’s covenant love for us. From now on, nothing “in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:39).

The new world imagined by Jesus is here. It has arrived already. It has broken into our present, and it is remaking us. We can even now, stumbling attempt after flawed stumbling attempt, begin to live in light of it, to embody its promise, to partake of and revel in its audacious wholeness.

In the one of the very last scenes of the Bible, one of the early Christian prophets says that he saw a vision of us, the church, the people of God, appearing before God as God’s bride. And then he hears a heavenly voice that says this:

See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.

May that new world, which is here right now among us in and through our risen Lord Jesus, come in all its radiance and wonder and fullness. And may we taste the promise-keeping, covenant love of God in the supper of the Lamb which we’re about to eat.

Amen.

[ryosei-hime]

Sex and Therapy: The Heart-Stopper

Fizz falls into something like sleep mode and can't wake up. This chapter was a bit emotionally exhausting for me, so hopefully that hasn't affected the quality of writing. Also available on AO3.

Fizz could feel warm little hands on his chest. Concord’s hands. He smiled as his eyes lit up, but when he sat up he found himself alone. He stood and looked around the dark, sparsely furnished room. It bore a resemblance to Concord’s. But there were things that weren’t quite right. Nothing had the right textures. Colors were dim and faded. Items shifted from one place to the other as if Fizz were trying to remember where random bits and pieces were supposed to go.

It wasn’t like a normal dream. He seemed to be experiencing and reassembling the real world while in sleep mode. This had never happened before. He could still feel the ghostly touch of Concord’s fingers over his chest. His distressed voice echoed in whispers across the darkness but his words were indistinct. 

Fizz wanted to soothe him. As the desire arose, suddenly Concord’s hands were on his chest. This Concord let them slide down to wrap his arms around his waist and stared up at him with a kind smile. Fizz ran a hand over his horn and smiled back. But this little imp’s eyes were different. Full of pinpricks of light like stars or the speckling of scars Fizz had created over Concord’s shoulders. His smile eased a bit.

“I need to wake up.” 

“It’s okay to stay here and rest,” Concord told him in his calming voice. “I’ll be okay. I’ll understand.”

Fizz shook his head. 

“You’re not Concord.” 

The replica looked confused, tilting his head slightly, eyes glowing green now. He looked thoughtful before his face returned to the calm demeanor of Concord’s therapist mask. 

“I’m a piece of him.” 

“Data?” 

He nodded, smiling wider than Concord ever could, circles appearing on his cheeks as the smile reached its ends. Fizz pushed the little Concord copy away gently. 

“Why can’t I wake up?” 

“Our power is too low. We have to preserve what energy is left to support the system.” He held out a hand to Fizz. “Come and rest with me.” 

Fizz reached out to take it but felt a strange foreboding, a static between their fingers that didn’t feel right. He pulled back before they could touch.

“No. Let’s wait until the power comes back.” 

“If we don’t reduce the amount of power being depleted by unnecessary programs, we may not continue to function.” 

“We’re not unnecessary programs.” 

“But you’re so cluttered.” Concord stated, a pained look reflected in his eyes. “We can make it clean again.” 

Fizz gasped as pale arms grew from his sides. He grabbed each arm as it emerged and ripped it free, crying out in pain. Blood gushed from the arms like burst pustules as they fell away, the warm liquid steaming as it dripped down his side. 

“I don’t bleed,” he gasped out. “Why am I bleeding?” 

As his fingers searched the bloody mess, he realized where it had come from, eyes snapping to the still writhing limbs scattered around him. It was Ahroth’s blood! He wiped at it frantically, but it became a viscous sludge, thickening the more he fought it. 

“Get it off!” 

“Come with me.” Concord insisted, holding out his hand. “And we can be clean again. Don’t make me go alone, Fizz.” 

Fizz felt an ache in his chest as he stared into Concord’s eyes - his own eyes in Concord’s face. They were so tired and scared. But he couldn’t. He shook his head, flicking thick blood from his hands as he backed away. 

Concord closed his eyes and when he opened them again they were speckled with white lights once more. Those white lights reflected in tears that trailed down his cheeks like a fountain, steady and unceasing. 

“Don’t cry.” Anguish filled Fizz’s voice as he stepped closer again. “Don’t.” 

He knew it wasn’t really Concord, but he couldn’t stand it. No more crying. Concord lowered his head and shook it softly. 

“I have to go now, Fizz. With or without you.” 

Concord turned his back to him and started to walk away, moving beyond the outlined limits of the room and into a darkness beyond. Fizz reached out with his arms and wrapped them around the strange amalgamation. He reeled it back in and held it tight to his chest. 

“Stay.” 

“I’m unnecessary. If I don’t go, we may never wake up.” 

Fizz shook his head, squeezing him, arms wrapping around him in coils.

“You have to stay. Stay with me.” He became frantic, panic overwhelming him. “I know we’re not perfect and we’re not clean, but I don’t want to be anyone else. Concord loves us. He loves us just like this.” 

The imp turned in the coils of his arms effortlessly, static in his eyes now as they locked onto his own. 

“He’ll love you no matter what. But if you don’t let go, there may not be a Fizz left for him to love at all.” 

Fizz shook his head again, drawing the imp tighter to his chest. His eyes were feral now, teeth bared, voice deep.

“No. I’m never letting you go. ” 

As he pressed the imp into his chest, Fizz pushed harder. It hurt so much, but the harder he pushed, the further into him Concord sank. He didn’t struggle against the absorption. He simply stared up at Fizz for as long as he could, his face the picture of calm acceptance. 

Once the replica had disappeared into his chest entirely, he expected the pain to subside. But it only got worse. He doubled over, hugging himself now. It felt like something sparking and arcing through his circuits. A sharp, stabbing pain that shot through him at consistent intervals.

He fell to his knees before curling up on the floor. The pain became blinding, all encompassing. He didn’t know if he could sink to a further level of unconsciousness, but his awareness of his surroundings began to fade in and out. The room flickered and glowed like a broken neon sign before finally dying out entirely.

All became black and then suddenly light filled his vision. He gasped out as he sat up abruptly. Concord had been sitting beside him with his face buried in his knees. He scrambled to embrace him but Fizz grabbed his shoulders, staring into his eyes, searching. They were bloodshot but normal. His cheeks were tear-stained, morning light dancing over dirty streaks and trails. He’d been out all night? 

“Fizz…” Concord sobbed, tears starting anew. “I thought….you were…”

Fizz pulled him into his arms, holding him close as he threw his arms around him, sobbing into his chest incoherently. His voice was distant when he spoke, a bit detached.

“I think I almost died.” 

Concord pulled back, staring up at him in horror. 

“What?” 

“The system tried to delete me.” 

“Factory reset,” Concord gasped before slapping his hands over his mouth. 

Fizz reached over and gently removed them before holding his face in his hands. He looked incredibly guilty and scared.

“I’m sorry,” Concord started. “I should have-”

Fizz leaned in, eyes trained on Concord’s as he captured the rest of his words. Concord sank into the soft kiss. It became more demanding, desperate, before Fizz finally pulled away.

“No talking right now. Please, just hold me.” 

Concord stroked his cheek and nodded. He relaxed back against the pillows and Fizz curled up in his arms. Concord held him gently, but he could feel a tension in his arms. He wanted to squeeze him tight, but he had to be mindful of his chest. Fizz tightened the coil of his good arm around Concord instead. 

Concord had known this could happen and hadn’t told him. That explained all the pictures and his mood shifts. But Fizz couldn’t care about that right now. Maybe he would later. If there was a later. But for now, he just needed to know Concord was there with him. That this was real. 

Concord held him for a long while in silence, the only sounds sniffles and stray sobs from above him. He planted little kisses over the top of his head, pressing his cheek against his temple as he let out a shaky sigh now and then. 

“I love you. I’m so sorry,” he whispered after a while. “I love you.”

Concord’s fingers tangled in his tunic and held him just a bit tighter, as tight as he dared. Fizz couldn’t help but recall the replica disappearing into his chest. He pushed his face into Concord’s chest, as hard as he could without hurting him. If he could just do the same...

“I want to be a part of you.” 

“You’re the most important part,” Concord responded instantly, rubbing his wet cheek against his head. “I don’t know how I’d live without you. I’m so scared.”

Fizz pulled out of his arms, Concord making it a bit difficult, not wanting to let go. He tried to wipe away his tears, but it was futile. They just kept coming. Fizz had decided in the moment that he’d rather die than lose who he’d become, but staring down into Concord’s anxious eyes now, he wasn’t sure the replica didn’t have a point. Concord would love him no matter what and, more than that, he might need to.  

“Concord, if I reset, will you keep me?” 

“Of course. Of course. I would never abandon you.” His breath hitched as he shook his head, making the words difficult to get out. “I would never...never...” 

Concord’s head hung as he dissolved into sobs again. Fizz’s hand rose to cradle his chin, turning Concord’s face up to meet his eyes. They showed every bit of gratitude and adoration he could convey. Concord’s breath caught in his throat before Fizz stole it away with a kiss.

“Even if I’m not me anymore, whoever I am deserves someone like you. But he’ll never know to appreciate you the way that I do.” 

“I don’t want you to reset,” Concord sniffled, wiping at his eyes. “I’m so scared. I don’t know how to live without you anymore.” 

“You will. You’ll want to take care of the new me. Because that’s who you are. I know you’ll be depressed, and he’ll be confused. He won’t know why he can’t make you happy. Just make sure he knows he isn’t broken. Don’t let him feel broken.” 

Concord shook his head, grabbing Fizz’s wrist. 

“You’ll be okay. It’s just one more day. You can make it one more day.” 

“If I don’t, you have to promise me.” 

“Okay. I promise.”

Fizz sank back into his arms and Concord bundled him up close, trying to hold as much of him as he could all at once. Fizz didn’t know what he would do if it happened again, but his convictions were no longer so absolute. And he didn’t know if those convictions were what had saved him this time. 

It was a long day, the minutes dragged, but somehow hours disappeared in an instant. Time stopped holding meaning for him. Concord wouldn’t leave him for even a moment. He held him,  touch tender and careful as if he caressed something fragile. Fizz supposed he was fragile right now. 

Every power drop created another minor panic, but each passed without incident, and they went through their ritual of comfort and desperate affections all over again. In between, they talked about little things, dancing around the bigger topics they both wanted to approach, but neither could. Fizz just wanted to stay in this tender, fragile space a little longer. And a little longer after that. Until night fell around them. Concord’s eyes were dark and sunken by now, exhausted. 

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Fizz realized suddenly. 

“I couldn’t. I thought…” He shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Can you make it another night?” 

“Yes,” he said with a determination Fizz couldn’t find it in himself to argue with. 

“When I’m fixed, when it’s safe, we’ll sleep together. For days.” 

Concord nodded with a relieved smile. He’d probably been prepared to fight for it. But Fizz couldn’t make him sleep now. Not now. They continued holding each other into the night, waiting for the sun again. But this time Concord didn’t have to wait alone. 

[scribomaniac]

Something Wicca This Way Comes Ch 14

Grunting as the air was knocked from her lungs, Emma somersaulted behind a chair in the attic, just barely dodging a fireball. Closing her eyes and her fist, she tried to pull on her new powers. Nothing.

Feeling a shadow fall over her, Emma’s eyes snapped open and she found a shadowy figure looming over her. Curling back her lips, she decided to switch tactics. Roaring with rage, Emma launched her self at their torso and tackled them to the ground. The figure let out a shrilly scream and then the shadows around it receded to reveal Tink.

The white-lighter grimaced up at Emma, “Not bad,” she wheezed, “but I don’t think that will work against the actual Source.”

Breathing heavily, Emma shrugged, “Never know until you try, right?” Emma helped the smaller woman up, then pushed the hair away from her face. “And I’m sorry but I just can’t take you seriously. I know this,” she waved at Tink, referencing the previous transformation, “is supposed to make me feel like I’m actually in danger but it really doesn’t.”

Tink did a good job turning herself into a menacing figure, and had nailed the illusion of fireballs and energy balls, but in the end, Emma knew it was all fake and that the woman would never intentionally hurt her.

“Well you’ve got to learn how to use your powers on command, Emma!” Tink threw her hands up, practically stomping her foot as well. “Not just when you’re in danger!”

“Yeah, well,” Emma sighed. When she’d been a Firestarter, using her powers had been so easy. That heat was always inside her, ready to overflow like lava. It hadn’t always been like that though. Her earliest memories of learning to use her magic consisted of Rumpelstiltskin screaming and threatening her, backing her into a corner until he got the result he desired. It was because of that that Emma had suggested this type of training, but it didn’t seem to be working. Emma shook her head, “Maybe if you yelled more?”

A bright white light rose from the floor, interrupting their conversation. After only a few seconds Will emerged from the light, a bright smile on his face. “Hello ladies. Emma, your mom just got back.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Tink stepped in front of Emma to block her from leaving the attic. “We need to figure this out, Emma!”

“Figure what out?” Will asked, looking nervously between the two of them. Then, “Wait, your power thing?”

“The only time you’ve been able to use them so far was during the last two demon attacks.”

Emma rolled her eyes as Tink pointed at her, “Yeah, and? I can use them when it counts so what does it matter?”

“Using them when it counts and using them to defeat the Source are two different things.”

“Okay,” Will stepped in, steadfastly not making eye contact now. “Tink, ah, why don’t you go take a break. I think Liam’s down at the pub. He could probably use some help training the new bartender.” When Tink merely raised a brow at him, he waved her on, “Come on, I’ll take over the training from here.”

Narrowing her eyes, Tink asked, “You’re sure? You’re not just going to blow it off as soon as I leave?”

“Scout’s honor, now shoo.”

With a long sigh, the white-lighter relented and orbed away.

“Alright then,” Emma placed her hands on her hips. “What did you have in mind?”

Clapping his hands together, Will answered, “A break! Come on.” The youngest Jones brother led Emma over to the windows and had her sit down.

“Didn’t you just promise Tink?” Emma asked wryly. “Scout’s honor and all that?”

“A break is not the same thing as blowing it off,” Will answered easily. “Now, tell me everything you’ve tried so far.”

So Emma did. Over the past week and a half she and Tink had tried what felt like everything. Walking into pitch black rooms, using magical stimulants, asking Jones ancestors for help, even. Nothing had summoned even a spark from the Savior. Nothing, it seemed, except the pure adrenaline that came from a life or death situation.

Will hemmed and hawed at all the right times, his mouth set in a firm line as he considered her words. “And before, when you were in the Underworld, this was how you trained your powers? The Source would attack you?”

Emma shrugged, then nodded.

“And so when you used your powers after that, what did you focus on?”

“What do you mean?”

Biting down on his lip, Will was silent for a second as he thought to rephrase his question, “I mean, what did you feel when you used your powers? When you summoned fire? Scared? Happy? Emotionless?”

The answer came surprisingly easy to Emma, even though she’d hardly ever thought of it before. Softly, she answered, “Angry. I felt anger.”

Will nodded excitedly, as if that made complete sense. “Right, okay, yeah! You were angry because of how he treated you, right?”

Emma nodded slowly. It was true, she’d been angry at her life in the Underworld, but she wasn’t just angry at the Source. She’d been angry at her parents for giving her up, the Seer for making her drink that bitter tonic, Bae for watching everything happen but never helping her. And she’d been angry at herself, for never fighting back.

“So anger was the trigger then, but it isn’t now, because so much has changed, right?” Not waiting for Emma to even nod this time, the half white-lighter continued, “So we have to find the new trigger—the new emotion for you to draw on. The last time you used them, what did you feel?”

“I don’t know,” Emma tried to think back. It’d been an attack by some lesser demons, but there’d been a lot of them. David had been there too, and Emma had been worried he’d get hurt in the crossfire. “Scared, I guess. For David.”

Will’s eyes narrowed, and then he lunged and shouted in her face, “Boo!”

Startling, Emma fell back against the chair’s arm, “What the hell was that?”

“Did I scare you?”

“What?” Emma frowned, “Yes! Jeez, of course you scared me, you screamed right in my face.”

Will shrugged, “Then fear’s not the trigger.”

Emma rolled her eyes. This was going no where. Killian had once told her that Will was studying Psychology. She wondered if this was practice for him or something.

“Okay, I want to try something else.”

“Can we just go back to the training?”

“This is training,” Will insisted. “Now, close your eyes.”

Emma stared at him blankly, not deigning the request with a verbal rejection.

“I know this is hard for you, Emma,” Will said, looking straight into her eyes and forcing her to see the pure sincerity in his own. “But please, trust me. Just for a little bit.”

Pursing her lips, Emma took in a deep breath before doing as he asked.

“Okay,” Will said slowly, “now I want you to really think back to the last attack. Tell me what happened.”

This was silly. Shaking her head but keeping her eyes closed, Emma replied, “Seven lower level demons attacked the manor. Two went after you and Killian, three went after Liam, and two appeared behind David.”

Will’s voice was calm and steady as he asked, “And you were scared he was going to get hurt?” Emma nodded. “So what did you do then?”

“I ran towards him and used my power to vanquish them.”

“Okay, now I want you to reflect on that moment. The moment where you decided not to run and save yourself, but to run towards someone in danger. Did you feel anything? Did you think about it?”

Emma remembered the look on David’s face. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he watched the demons work. Emma’s heart stopped dead at his expression, and then when she saw the two demons shimmer behind him, when one summoned a fireball to his hand, there hadn’t been time for second thoughts. All Emma knew was that she couldn’t let him die. Couldn’t let her father die. She needed to protect him, would do anything to protect him, even if it meant sacrificing herself to do so.

“Emma,” Will’s soft voice permeated her thoughts, “open your eyes.”

When she did, she gasped. The whole room was lit up with a golden light. Looking down at her hands, she found herself to be the source. It was beautiful and shone even brighter than a white-lighter.

Will’s grin was wider than his face could manage. It was contagious too and soon Emma felt her own smile cracking against her lips. “Looks like we found your trigger.”

Feeling like a child on Christmas morning, Emma ran down to tell Mary Margaret the news. The older witch was ecstatic by the development, immediately suggesting new methods of training and ways to manipulate Emma’s light. It was like a light switch had been turned on inside Emma’s head. By the afternoon, she was able to focus the light on her hands, control its brightness, and she’d even been able to shoot off a few bolts at small targets.

Eventually Mary Margaret had called it a day, not wanting Emma to overtire herself, and suggested they take a break—a proper one this time, Will had joked—by looking through some old family photos. Unsurprisingly, most of the photos centered around Emma’s brother, Neal.

“And here he is at his high school graduation,” Mary Margaret flipped through her phone with a soft smile on her face. “You should have seen your father when he was accepted into UCLA. I swear that smiles was screwed onto his face for weeks.”

Emma hummed, not entirely sure what that all meant. She knew UCLA was a college, sure, but she didn’t get why someone would get so excited about going there. Then Mary Margaret swiped to another picture and this one showed Emma’s younger brother wearing a blow and gold football uniform. “Is he on the team?”

“Just for the first couple of years,” Mary Margaret nodded. “Then he quit to focus more on his studies. He’d decided to become a teacher halfway through and needed to take extra classes to catch up. Football’s pretty intense there so he wasn’t able to keep up with both.”

“A teacher, huh?” Emma hadn’t missed the way Mary Margaret’s eyes had lit up at the mention. “Like mother like son.”

Ducking her head but grinning proudly, Mary Margaret chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know what made him change his mind, but it was a happy surprise. For me at least. You wouldn’t believe how angry his grandfather became after Neal made the decision. Ah,” her brows raised and she quickly looked over at Emma, “I mean, your grandfather. Both of yours. Sorry.”

Not offended by the slip up in the slightest, Emma shrugged and asked, “Why’d he get mad?”

“He was originally going to study law,” Mary Margaret rolled her eyes and then swiped through a few more photos until she found one that included her, David, a toddler Neal, and a few other people Emma didn’t recognize. “Here’s your grandpa George,” she zoomed onto the face of a balding old man with perfect posture and a hard lined mouth. “He owns a law firm in L.A and wanted Neal to take it over for him one day. He had the same reaction when David dropped out of law school and entered the police academy.”

“Did he ever get over it?” Emma frowned at the picture. The man looked cold and mean, not unlike some of the faces she’d grown up with in the Underworld.

“It took a few weeks, but he eventually came around. George can be a bit crotchety at times but he’s a big softie when it comes to Neal since he’s—or, was—his only grandchild.”

“What about him?” Emma pointed to another man in the photo, one who had an identical face to David’s. “You didn’t tell me David was a twin.”

Mary Margaret’s lips thinned. “That’s James, your uncle.”

“No kids from him, then?”

“No, thank God. Oh!” Mary Margaret’s eyes went large and Emma laughed. “No, that was unkind. Ah, I just mean he never found the time, I guess. He’s a lawyer too, and—”

“And he’s a total jackass?” Emma guessed, a wide grin pulling at her lips. Before this Emma had thought the woman a saint with no bad words to say about anyone—demons excluded, of course.

Sighing in defeat, Mary Margaret nodded, “Utterly and completely.”

The image on Mary Margaret’s phone disappeared, revealing a name as a call interrupted them. “Oh, that’ll be my sub. I need to take this.” She gave Emma an apologetic smile.

“Go for it, I’m going to take a shower.”

The room the Jones brothers had given her was located on the second floor. It used to be a study for Liam, and before that a nursery, so it wasn’t very big, and it hadn’t been updated in at least twenty years, but it was comfortable and gave Emma a place to go for privacy. They’d made the decision to have her stay with the Charmed Ones to provide extra protection and the cut down on any travel time between the Manor and the Nolan’s house.

Opening her closet and pulling out a new, non-sweat covered shirt and pants. She’d have to grab a new towel from the linen closet in the hallway since she’d thrown her other one in the hamper this morning. Once all this was over, Emma had decided, she’d be over the moon to have her own bathroom again. She’d never truly appreciated the luxury a private bathroom was.

Another reason Emma was staying in the manor was because they’d decided to wait to tell Neal about her existence until after destroying the Source. Neal knew he had a sister, theoretically, but he didn’t know she was alive and in contact with his parents. They still weren’t sure how they’d break it to him. He had no idea that his mother was a witch since Mary Margaret had given up the practice ages ago. So that left them with two options, either fessing up about the whole things, or coming up with a new lie. Personally, Emma preferred the later option. Neal had been told his sister was kidnapped as a baby, all Emma had to do was say something like she’d tracked them down through some DNA testing site or something. David had been on board with that plan, but Mary Margaret was obviously uncomfortable about lying to her son. Omission was one thing, she had said, but outright lying was another.

“Hello dear.”

Emma’s heart stopped. Spinning around, she found the Seer lounging on the bed. Her blood red lips were pulled back into a devious smirk, reminding Emma of a snake that was eager for an easy meal.  

“Regina,” Emma growled. Fists curling, her hands began to glow. “What are you doing here?”

Not bothering to move an inch, Regina shrugged a diamond covered shoulder, “I wanted to check in on you. It’s been so long since we last spoke.” Quirking a brow, she asked, “By the way, how’s your mother?”

Raising her luminous hands, Emma took a step forward, ready to end the Seer’s life right here, right now.  

“Ah, ah, ah,” Regina held up a finger, her smile broadening. “If you vanquish me now, then you’ll never defeat the Source.”

Frowning, Emma paused but didn’t lower her hands. “What did you see?”

Casually, as if she wasn’t two seconds away from being smited into oblivion, Regina stood from the bed and walked around the room. Trailing her finger along the wooden dresser and sneering at the floral drapes. “Who decorated this place?”  

“Regina,” Emma snapped, finally putting her hands down and dispersing her magic. If the Seer had wanted her dead, she would have attacked by now. Or she would have had someone attack her by now. And since neither of those things had happened, that could only mean she wanted something from Emma. “What did you see?”

“Many things,” Regina hummed, now directing her gaze up to the crown moldings. “The future is not yet set you see, but the odds are not in your favor, dear.”

Emma knew she was being baited. Regina used to play this game all the time when Emma was a child. She’d tease out details of the future in order to have Emma beg for more information. Not this time, though, because this time Emma knew something Regina didn’t.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma said, “Screw the odds, you don’t know what you’re talking about. If you did then you’d have killed me after stealing me from my mother.”

Spinning around to stare straight at Emma, her dark red dress swishing loudly at the movement, Regina barked out a laugh, “You think so? Why? Because you’re the Savior?” Seeing Emma’s eyes widen, she laughed again, “I’ve always known what you are Emma. I’m the Seer,” her lips pulled back in disgust, “I knew what your destiny would be long before you were a thought in Mary Margaret’s pretty little head.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. If Regina’s known this whole time, then Rumpelstiltskin must know too. So what’s he playing at? If he knows who she is and that she’s destined to kill him, then why has he let her live for so long? Why did he make her so powerful? Why did he keep her at his side? Regina had to be up to something. Emma thought of Glass and his fate. Regina had gotten the demon killed without lifting a finger.  

“So many thoughts, so little time,” Regina tutted. “I never told Rumple. He just thinks you’re a Firestarter,” she shrugged, like an afterthought, “maybe a bit more powerful than most, but nothing more.”

“Why?” It didn’t make any sense. Regina was the Source’s right hand. She helped him gain power centuries ago, she told him everything. So why didn’t she tell him this? Why did she want Rumpelstiltskin dead, or was this a trap? “What are you up to?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, I assure you.” Stepping closer, Regina continued, “All you need to worry about is getting stronger, and you won’t be able to do that while working with that insufferable white-lighter or your pure-hearted mother.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Mary Margaret,” Emma said, her tone low and deathly serious. “I should kill you right here and now for what you did to us.”

“Probably, but you won’t.” Regina stepped even closer, looking straight into Emma’s eyes.  

Emma raised a brow, “You sure about that?”

Regina chuckled, “You need me to find Rumpelstiltskin’s dagger. Killing me will just ensure your own demise, and the demise of everyone you love. No,” she smiled, all teeth and no warmth, “you’re too smart to kill me now. I raised you better than that.”

Maybe what she said was right and Emma couldn’t kill her, that didn’t mean she had to put up with this. Hands flashing brightly, Emma pushed Regina hard. The Seer hissed as she fell backwards across the room. The fabric covering her shoulders were scorched and blackened and smokey tendrils turned into a hazy mist around Regina’s face. Through the fabric Emma could see Regina’s skin, shiny and red with blood, begin to heal.  

“You raised me to be a killer,” Emma straightened her book and looked down at the demon responsible for the piece of shit she’d called a life. “So don’t test me.”

Standing back up to her full height, Regina tried plastering on her usual grin but it was obviously strained. “Guess you’re not as smart as I thought.”

Lifting her chin, Emma replied, “Guess I’m not as afraid of you as you thought. Now get out.”

Regina blinked. “What?”

“Get out of this house,” Emma repeated. “I don’t need your help and I don’t need it. I’m not playing your games anymore, Regina.”

“So what?” Regina laughed, incredulous, “You’re letting me go?”

Emma nodded, “You get this one pass, but if I ever see you again I swear to god, Regina, I’ll burn you into oblivion.”

“Stupid child,” Regina hissed. “You’ll regret this.” Then, in a wave of white light, she vanished from Emma’s room.  

Knowing the Seer, she headed straight for the Underworld with the intention of telling the Source of her new “discovery” and that Emma was the Savior. Once Rumpelstiltskin knew of her true identity, he was sure to come after her himself, holding nothing back. She was ready for him though, she could feel it in the marrow of her bones. Regina was wrong. Every second of every day Emma grew more into her power and her strength, and it was only a matter of time now before her light eclipsed the Source’s darkness. Like a candle at the end of its life, Rumpelstiltskin’s reign of terror was about to be snuffed out. Let him come.

[sapphireharrie]

you would know if you stayed

the one where harry and y/n meet again 11 months after their divorce.

It was 3 am when y/n comes home with a paper on her hand, she was just back from a meeting with her attorney, sitting in Central Park alone in the dark thinking what the hell happened to her marriage, how could it come to this when she thought they both made a vow of forever four years ago. There was no argument when she gave Harry the divorce paper, it was him that asked for a divorce two days before. They have been having arguments for the past two years, tried marriage counseling for two months but didn’t work. Every time they tried to talk, it will just end in a big argument. They know all of this happened because of the lack of communication between both y/n and Harry. They both know beforehand, even from 2 months of them dating, they know both of them are always so bad at communicating, it was never a secret, but they have tried so hard to be more open with each other, which actually worked for three years into their marriage.

It was after their three years anniversary that both realized, their marriage didn’t work; falling asleep mad at each other, y/n being disappointed when Harry didn’t show up at their dinner nights, y/n being upset because Harry keeps forgetting important dates between the two of them, Harry being bored of y/n that keeps calling him to talk about their on-going renovated condo, Harry being irritated with y/n when she complained about him not being more included in their future home, and so on. When they decided to move to New York, instead of living in California and Harry sold his bachelor Beverly Hill house, it was because of y/n’s job, however it was also Harry’s idea to move. Y/n was willing to leave her job, and move to California with him. They both know Harry was never a New York City kind of guy, even though they both moved to the high-end downtown part of Manhattan, where almost all of the people that occupied the building are everyone from Harry’s league, Harry hates New York. He never talked to y/n about this because he didn’t want to disappoint her, but he’s getting fed up on how crowded and loud NY is, that he has to make up reasons to buy another house in California and keeps on making excuses to be there.

Every time she remembered about the night she delivered the paper to Harry, she wanted to scream. She wanted to yell why didn’t he fight for her? Can anything solve this? She tried so hard to keep this marriage work, she has been trying to save their relationship, but Harry didn’t seem like he was worried at all. A month and a half into their marriage counseling, Harry stopped showing up, y/n on the other hand still try to show up. She stopped after the counselor said that this is about two people; that relationship, especially marriage, consisted of two people, wouldn’t work if only one of them is trying. However, she refused to give up, she finally stopped trying when Harry came home, looking like a mess, saying that he wanted a divorce, that he can’t stand being like this. She doesn’t even understand what ‘this’ means. She wanted to scream, saying this isn’t fair, she should be the one that ending things up since she was the one trying to save their marriage, yet all that she did was nod, no words exchanged. She nodded and she left. She tried, didn’t she? If he didn’t want to fight, then giving up is the right move.

 ***

Five months after their divorce, y/n gets to keep their New York condo. However, the decisions weren’t decided without a fight. Y/n refused to accept the condo because Harry bought it. Her attorney then gave a piece of advice for y/n to pay for the condo, which Harry refused. They then came up with a decision that y/n paid 85% of the condo. Harry wasted no time leaving New York. He hasn’t been to New York since then, it was crowded before. Now that they have officially separated, Harry couldn’t even breathe in New York, everything has traces of her and both of them. Months after their divorce and the papers were all done, y/n was actually thinking about moving back to her parents’ house. As much as she loved New York and her condo, she also hated it here. New York is just too much for someone just trying to make it alone. She hated when everyone in the subway would look at her because they recognized ‘Harry Styles’ ex-wife’ and they started pointing fingers at her. It kind of feels the same way when they started dating, people would always stare, but in times she just started to ignore them. But now, it just felt like everyone knows how miserable she is. That is why she bought a car. Driving in New York is just straight up hell, but she couldn’t just live on taxis, it would be much more expensive, and taxis in New York are just straight up gross.

She stayed at her parents’ house for a while and then started to renovate and change everything from their condos. When she said everything, she meant everything. Nothing’s left from when she lived with Harry. She finished everything and started moving back again. Looking at her condo, she felt this is just the way she wanted it. However, she feels overwhelmed, everything just happened so quickly. That is when she decided to call Gemma, Harry’s sister. It’s hard when you have had adjusted your life to someone else’s and their families became your best friend, it is harder when they are your only best friends. Y/n tells Gemma everything, so when she couldn’t hold it in anymore, Gemma came to her. Gemma was already in New York for a few months, so when she called Gemma literally came running.

 “Y/n?” Gemma came into her condo, the condo has its own lift, that’s why she doesn’t really need keys when she got the access after she rang before. Y/n doesn’t answer her call, she looks at the condo for a while, it was beautiful, but it was also empty. There was no picture at all other than a few paintings. It was really different from when y/n and Harry lived together. Pictures everywhere, of their engagements, weddings, holidays, and she even put up some of Harry’s tour poster.

 “Y/n? I’m here, it’s Gemma,” she called again, but this time she heard footsteps from the kitchen and there was y/n, in her apron, ready to hug her.

 “Hi, I’ve missed you,” she said while running to Gemma who immediately hugged her back,

 “I’ve missed you so much,” Gemma said between her shoulders, “It smells really good, what are you making?” she asked, releasing her from the hugs,

 “Your favorite, orange chicken,” She answered while they both walked into the kitchen. Y/n finished her cooking while listening to Gemma telling her about her newest project. When they finished eating, y/n washed the dishes almost immediately, refusing Gemma’s help. Gemma stood in the kitchen watching her trying so hard not to cry while doing the dishes.

 “Y/n, please, just let me help,” Gemma said slowly while walking to her, shocked when y/n suddenly dropped the plate she was holding to the sink and started holding on to the edge of the sink, trying so hard not to also drop herself to the floor,

 “I’m just so-” she sobbed, while Gemma was trying to help steady her- “tired.” She finished her sentence, and God, Gemma just wanted to cry right there.

 “I’m tired of crying like a fucking freak every time I’m in the shower,” Gemma was trying to help guiding her to the sofa in the living room, silently cursing the condo for being so goddamn big,

 “I’m tired of coming home and having to hold my breath because I keep smelling him in this house even though I tried lighting every damn candle that I have,” she continued while Gemma was still guiding her to sit,

 “I’m so tired of having anxiety attacks every time I found something that belongs to him,” y/n tried to wipe her tears with the sleeve of her sweater,

 “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, Gemma. I tried so hard to ignore everyone’s pity look for me at the office. I’m tired of doing my job so fucking slow and finding a new one every time just because I don’t want to come home. Gemma, I don’t want to be in this fucking house alone,” Gemma was just nodding along, listening to every word that she said carefully while trying not to cry herself,

 “I’m tired of keep wondering when did it all fell down, when did he stopped loving me, when did he started thinking maybe separating is the answer. Gosh, Gem, I’m so tired of wondering where I went wrong because he never gave me an explanation,” Gemma was shocked when y/n said Harry never gave her an explanation for wanting to separate,

 “He never told you the reason?” Gemma asked which was answered by y/n shaking her head slowly, “Gosh, darling.” Gemma started to hug her again, this time she didn’t even try to hold her tears. Giving herself a mental reminder to smack her brother’s head the next time she sees him.  

 “Gem, I don’t know what to do, God. I’m still so in love with him, but I’m trying so hard to let go.” She then pulled away from Gemma’s hug to get herself some tissues.

 “I don’t know what to say,” Gemma said, “he doesn’t really talk to me about this. I think he knew at some point that you would talk to me, he mostly talks to mum.”

“Can you tell mu-” y/n coughed, trying to correct herself- “Anne, can you tell Anne I’m sorry for not returning her calls? It’s not that I don’t want to, I just couldn’t.”

 “You know you can still call her mum, right? Y/n she loves you, she was just checking up on you. She’s been worried. We’ve all been worried, you just kind of disappear.” Gemma then picked up some tissues, realizing that she’s been crying this whole time.

 “Gem,” she started again, “you know I’d do anything to make him stay, right?” she asked, instead of answering Gemma stayed silent,

 “But, you should’ve seen his face when he asked for a divorce. He looked relieved. At that moment, I decided to give up, because I don’t want him to be unhappy with me. So, I let him go. But, Gem, I would do anything to make him stay.” She sobbed.

 “Is he also hurting, Gem? He must be, right?” she asked, but once again Gemma stays silent, doesn’t want to say the wrong or maybe the right thing,

 “I know it’s mean and cruel, but I kind of hoped he’s tortured too,” she admitted while looking down at her shoes, ashamed.

 “You’re not a bad person for hoping that, he left you hanging. I know for a fact that it’d be one whole lot easier if you know that he’s as messed up as you. You’re not mean nor selfish. Darling, you’re hurting, a lot.” No words were exchanged after Gemma said that, they sat there, hugging and crying together.

  ***

  When Mitch asked him to go to New York with him, Harry almost refused. However, he also thought that maybe it is time for him to finally be able to be in New York without feeling her everywhere he goes. But that is impossible, even here in LA, he still feels her presence every damn time.

 “You know, New York is really big, right?” said Mitch, trying to convince Harry to go, “there’s only like 35% chance of you meeting her. Besides, you don’t know if she still lives in New York, you haven’t talked to her.”

 “I know I haven’t talked to her, but I checked her Twitter every day,” said Harry while sipping his coffee,

 “That’s straight-up creepy, mate.” Mitch then sipped his coffee while looking at Harry,

 “I just want to know how she is, and the last time I checked she still lives in New York and still works for the same company, she posted a picture of her in her office’s café.” Checking her social media is one of the things that Harry do to check up on her, other than calling her mum and maybe Gemma. The first time he checked her Twitter account after they separated there posted a tweet a week after she handed him the divorce papers,

 ‘If only I knew how you felt all along.’

 Harry wanted to call her that day, he wanted to ask what does she mean, what does she think he felt? Because if he was honest, his feelings never change. He thought maybe this ‘stalking’ habit that he picks up after they separated is because he was so used to hearing her talk about her day, which one of his favorite things to do and he usually looks forward to it every day. The fact that he can no longer sit on their favorite sofa together with her legs on his lap, hearing her day at the office or just simply hearing about her favorite lunch, hurts him a lot.

 The one tweet that sticks to him the most was the tweet that she posted around a month after their divorce, he almost wanted to put it into his album, but then again, he needed to let go, didn’t he? He looked at the tweet for a really long time, screenshotted it so that even if she decided to delete the tweet or even her account it would still be there,

 ‘unsure whether who is winning or losing, but then again, you could never win a one-sided battle, can you?’

 Harry knew what this one was about. He realized that he gave up on her while she was trying to hold on to whatever it is left in their marriage. He left without giving her a reason why. Leaving her asking herself what the fuck was going on because he thought he promised her to fight, isn’t that what marriage is about? Fighting for each other. But he gave up. What kind of husband gave up on his perfect wife? She never asked for anything, hell, she waited for him while he was on tour. He gets to come home to his wife and his perfect condo. Not everyone has the luxury of having someone waiting for them faithfully when they leave for months and even years on the road.

 Eight months after their divorce Harry almost called her to tell her he still loves her, that he missed her, and that he wanted to start over. But then again, does he even have the right to do that? He’s the one leaving her, he knew exactly what he’s going to lose, yet he still did that. He has no right to even miss her, he is the one to blame and he hates himself every day for it.

  ***

  Three days of being in New York was pretty good, he didn’t really think about y/n because he always tried to make himself busy and so far, he hasn’t really had the chance to accidentally see her, and he hoped it would stay this way until he’s back to California. It was 9 am when he finally decided to leave his hotel room with his journal and laptop, walking into a small coffee shop near his hotel. He was just about to order when a smell caught his nose. He stopped for a second, there is no way this is y/n‘s perfume, there are millions of people wearing Tocca perfume, but this is y/n’s smell. He decided to look back to make sure that wasn’t y/n. But, god, does the universe hates him. He was faced with y/n, a phone between her shoulder and ear, and she was busy trying to find something in her purse,

 “Y/n?” Harry whispered, but it was definitely caught by her because she stopped looking through her purse and finally looked up, “hi!” said Harry with a little squeal. Y/n literally stopped in her tracks, looking at Harry with shock in her face.

 “I’m-” she stopped- “I’m gonna have to call you back,” she said to her phone and put it in her purse,

“What are you getting? On me.” Harry asked before she can manage to say anything, which she answered with “soy latte,” which she corrected after with,

  “Hot, hot soy latte,” still in shock, she didn’t even realize Harry was done ordering for the both of them and now he is leading her to one of the many empty tables,

 “Hey,” she said when she was finally able to process whatever it is in her head,

 “Hey,” Harry said with a big smile on his face, however, it was not without a pang on his chest. This is her ex-wife, looking as good as ever, new haircut, but definitely suits her, and she is sitting in front of him, after eleven months, eleven whole months without seeing her, talking to her, and hearing her voice.

 “How are you?” Harry asked. He nodded to the waitress when they gave him his order,

 “I’m good,” she answered with a little smile on her face, “how are you?” she asked,

 “I’m good, thank you. You look a bit busy, is it okay if we talk a little bit?” Harry asked while sipping his Americano,

 “It’s New York, everyone is always busy,” she chuckled without answering his question. Harry felt another sting in his chest, thinking about how much he missed that chuckle.

 “You also have been busy, I see. Another album, that was big.” She stated, Harry couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, she still keeps up on news about him, he sees.

 “Yeah, it was pretty big.” He answered, and nodding for the second time to the waitress when they came back to their table to give y/n’s order.

 “How’s work?” he asked while lifting his cup and sips his Americano,

 “Good.” She answered while tracing her take away cup of soy latte, trying so hard not to look at him. He was startled because he was expecting a longer answer, maybe her asking him back about work.

 They sat in silence for a moment, while Harry was thinking of what more can he ask so he can sit for a little while with her because, gosh, does he miss her. But her on the other hand, she was trying so hard to think of a reason to get out of his sight and this awkwardness.

 “How is the final of the condo? How’s New York been treating you?” Harry asked genuinely since he never really see how it finishes up.

 “Harry,” she sighed, “I really need to get going,” she said, then left him and her untouched latte before he can even stop her. He saw her walking out of his sight for how many times now, he couldn’t even count it. He sipped his Americano, and lean to the chair, closing his eyes.  He opened his phone and call one of the most called contacts on there,

 “Mum?” he sighed,

 “I miss her.”

 ***

 She walked really fast to her car and sit for a while. She wanted to stay. She would’ve stayed. But God, if she’s honest, she really would love to stay, catching up with him about life; asking him about his sister’s wedding, which she said she couldn’t attend because she can’t go to London that day due to work; asking him about his mum, is she well? Does she still go to the same yoga place? Is she mad at her for not answering her call and text? But good lord, she’s trying to let go.

 Twenty minutes after she left, Harry got a notification on his phone. He didn’t even realize that he has been sitting there alone for 20 minutes after calling his mum. It was a Twitter notification that said y/n has posted a tweet. Harry still has her notification on, and she rarely ever tweets. He opened the app and went to her profile, it stated that she tweeted a minute ago and says,

 ‘You would know if you stayed.’

 Another notification came,

 ‘You would know if you put up a fight.’

 He deserved that, he knew he deserved that. And in that moment, after eleven months, he realized, what has he done?

[fan-clan-fun]

 I submitted something about the structure of one of my fanclans a little while ago and thought it’d be fun to submit the rest of them! Just more brief descriptions than super detailed. I’d love it if you took a look!

Sorry this took so long to respond to, the size was a bit intimidating, but lets do this!

I’m also quickly noting that there’s a lot of things here that cats can’t do. Most notably, crafting, which here includes weaving, tying, etc. I know it’s unrealistic, I just can’t be bothered to care. And I know the map is a little empty right now, I’m workin’ on it.

You do you, if you want realism thats okay, if you dont, thats okay too! Just make sure in universe you are consistent, because thats where things can get awkward. 

To make things a little more understandable, let’s say these cats have more human-like paws. Think how paws are used in MAPs - the cats can point, make expressions with them, etc. They’re still paws, but can be used in more productive ways.

That doesnt seem like too much of a stretch, and that would make several things more easily possible.

The three clans - ForestClan, SeaClan, and CliffClan - are known (to me, at least), as ‘The Coastal Clans.’ The geography and aesthetic is supposed to match that of a Northwestern coast - think Northern California and Oregon. It’s cold, foggy, and wet most of the time. ForestClan inhabits a temperate redwood rainforest, SeaClan prowls the beaches and the ocean, and CliffClan claims the cliffs that overlook the beaches and ocean (as well as the meadows above the cliffs).

Seems like a good premise, and you can use some irl locations for inspiration and to help flesh it out. 

SeaClan, as said, claims the beaches and the sea as their territory. They are powerful swimmers, with thick, water-resistant fur to keep them warm when in the water. They have big, webbed paws that help propel them underwater. Unlike the canon water clan, RiverClan, who do quite a bit of their fishing at the surface of the water, SeaClan dive for their food. They do, of course, eat lots of fish, but a good portion of their food is also plucked from the sea floor - including clams, sea urchins, and oysters. Plenty of their food is found on the shore, too, though - they often dig for clams and crabs, and pry mussels off rocks.

This is actually really cool cause it makes use of their extra dexterity and ability.

SeaClan, like ForestClan, does not have a conventional leading system, nor do the cats have a StarClan. Instead of one leader, SeaClan has two - the Tidecaller and the Moonsinger (these just being titles, leaders will still keep their normal names). The Moonsinger is the more conventional of the two leaders. The Moonsinger is in charge of all the usual stuff: naming ceremonies, assigning mentors, leading the clan through hardship. The Tidecaller, however, is the spiritual leader. They are the one in charge of spiritual ceremonies - ascension to leadership, naming ceremonies for kits, etc. - as well as interpreting the will and signs of the sea. It is not common for the Moonsinger to receive visions or prophecies. Another notable difference is the leadership ceremony - when one becomes one of the leaders of SeaClan, they are ritually drowned.. And if they survive the ordeal (all leaders in recent history have survived), it’s a sign they have been approved of by the sea and gifted their nine lives (both gain nine lives). There is still a medicine cat, it’s just that the spiritual aspect is removed from the role.

So far Seaclan is distinct from most water-based clans and I appreciate its culture. Part of me wonders what originally led for the leadership to be split up, but the imagery makes sense.

SeaClan refers to ‘The Sea’ as their deity. As it is the basis of their entire lives, from birth to death, it is worshiped and respected greatly. Part of the respect, undoubtedly, comes from fear - though most, if not all SeaClan cats love the ocean, it’d be hard to deny how scary it can be. How vast, deep, and dark it is. It could take your life away in a heartbeat, drown you or drag you out to sea with no mercy (a quick note here: these cats also have some knowledge of a crude version of CPR - and yes, it is a lesson all apprentices must learn). They believe it is important to respect the waves - as it should then respect you back. If Sharkbait was dragged out by the riptide, he was not giving the sea the respect it deserved - perhaps he turned his back to the waves for a little too long. The other side of their religion, or their other deity, would be the Moon, as the moon pushes and pulls the tides. It’s not worshipped nearly as much as The Sea, but SeaClan cats still recognize its importance. Hence, we have the 'Moon'singer and the 'Tide'caller. SeaClan cats do not know of the afterlife, but dead cats are ‘buried’ at sea. If a SeaClan cat is not buried at sea, they believe they will then never walk in the afterlife - instead, they will be cursed to wander the land as a ghost and will never be allowed to return to the ocean. However, this has only proven to be a problem for evil cats (who don’t deserve the respect) or SeaClan cats that join other clans.

Okay right two deities, two leaders, makes sense. So far Seaclan seems to have a cohesive religion, nice.

As for trading, although their skill or style is not quite as refined as the other clans, SeaClan’s crafts are highly sought after for the materials used. Pearls, shells, sea glass, starfish, driftwood - most of their materials used are considered quite beautiful. Don’t tell the SeaClan cats, but most of their things end up getting taken apart to be repurposed for other jewelry, clothing, or other adornments.

I suppose the trade off of precious materials/lower refinement makes sense, although part of me worries that it could be used as a way to look down on this clan as less-civilized which could be a bit uncomfy. 

(On the map)

Mussel Rock - a rather large rock that is covered in mussels. A great place for food.

Tide Rocks - a large clump of rocks that are often used for sunbathing or recreational swimming. They’re also a great place to dive for hunting. They’re called the Tide Rocks because they’re sometimes impossible to get to or stand on because of a high tide, or can just be walked right on to during a low tide.

Shell Shore - a corner of the beach that is absolutely covered with shells. Not only shells, but driftwood, sea glass, pretty rocks, starfish. A common place to get crafting materials. Apprentices often spend hours poring over the choices, trying to figure out the best one to give to their crush.

The Falls - another sort of recreational spot. It’s good for teaching younger apprentices how to swim without taking them into the ocean, and a great source of fresh water.

SeaClan kits have the suffix -shell, apprentices have the suffix -shore. SeaClan leaders do not take a unique suffix.

I currently do not have any plans for the leaders, deputies, or medicine cat.

And, for fun, a song or two for SeaClan’s aesthetic/vibe: Ghost on the Shore by Lord Huron, and Fire by Noah Gunderson.

Looks good so far!

​​​​​​​Next up is CliffClan!

CliffClan inhabit the golden grassy meadows above the cliffs, as well as the cliffs themselves. Compared to the other clans, they are seen as rather laid-back and carefree. Hippies, basically. Typically, they’re lighter in color - lilac, yellow, golden, pale brown, pale grey - and are leaner. Hunting takes place both on the cliffs and in the meadows for CliffClan cats. On the cliffs, birds and birds’ eggs make great meals, and in the meadows, rabbits, mice, ground birds, and other creatures are quite common. Even the occasional squirrel, though they’re typically caught dangerously close to ForestClan’s borders. CliffClan territory gets much more sunlight than other territories and is typically a fair bit warmer. The camp is underneath a great, ancient willow tree - the hanging leaves create a natural partition and protect the cats underneath from rain, wind, hail and whatever else the world might throw at them. The borders (where the leaves hang) have been reinforced with bramble to create a more secure and clear camp. There are two partings/entrances in the camp, one to the territory, and another to an outdoor camp. The outdoor part of camp isn’t too reliable during storms, but for cats who prefer sleeping under the stars or want to nap in the sun, it’s perfect. It also smells rather nice, as the medicine cat keeps an herb garden in a portion of the outdoor camp.

Cliffclan territory and camp sounds lovely!  Although willows do tend to grow closer to water or wetter land and since it looks like Cliffclan territory doesnt have a lot of trees, it is a bit odd for this one massive willow to exist on its own, particularly away from water. Maybe move it near to a little pond or lake? Or set it in a small group of willows in some wetlands? But thats up to you, and you did mention the map wasn’t complete so I may not have the full picture. 

Rather than worshipping a deity, to CliffClan, nature is divine. All life is interconnected. Each piece of nature is itself, it’s own being, and they have no need to apply fancy names or powers to them. The sun brings warmth and light, the wind carries the scent of prey and salt, the rain brings water and cool refreshment after the hot months. Respect and love all parts of nature. “Hear the voice that sings to everything that always has and always will.”

Definitely sounds a little hippy lol. But it fits them well I think. 

CliffClan’s main crafts include weaving, feathers, and ‘tools.’ Dry grass and reeds are woven together to create bracelets/anklets, chokers, and blankets. Feathers are often tucked into those as well. They also weave small baskets that can be used by the medicine cat to hold herbs, or woven grass pouches that can be worn over the body to collect things. One example is the pouches being used to hold eggs as CliffClan cats collect them from birds’ nests. CliffClan has the best technique for weaving by far, making their woven items highly sought after.

I like that they have the ability to collect and organize, it could be cool if different clan members had their own little collections or weaving patterns. They seem to be more independent and chill to have the time to do more things for pleasure. 

(On the map)

The Ponds - a nice spot for cats to relax. It’s a good hunting spot and wonderful swimming spot. Sometimes there’ll even be a fish to catch!

Out of the three clans, CliffClan’s appointment system is the most similar to the canon clans’. Kits are still -kit, apprentices are still -paw. There is still a deputy and medicine cat. However, leaders do not take a special suffix.

CliffClan’s current leader is Brightsun, a seemingly soft-spoken tom with a missing hind leg. His aura is very friendly and warm - one can tell he was chosen to be leader because of his undying kindness and love for his clanmates, not because of his battle skills. He has a himbo husband mate, Hawkheart, and four adopted kits: Thunderpaw, Stormpaw, Rainpaw, and Windpaw.

CliffClan’s deputy has not yet been decided.

CliffClan’s medicine cat is Ripplestream, a former SeaClan warrior. He’s a bit skittish, and just a tad shy. But he truly does love his craft, and, so far, hasn’t looked back on his decision to leave SeaClan. Brightsun and Ripplestream are particularly close, since Brightsun was his mentor (he used to be the medicine cat - you may think, medicine cat to leader? that’s kinda cringe bro. i’m here to strangle cringe culture with my bare hands, and, Brightsun’s whole backstory will be submitted at a later date).

Its not that cringe, its just curious. Is that a normal thing? How do Cliffclan choose their leaders? 

CliffClan’s head monarch is Primroseclaw, former deputy. She retired after she found a mate - her desire was always to serve her clan, and there were other ways to do so than becoming leader. She’s very caring with kits, but strict with adult cats, as they should know better. Primroseclaw is Brightsun’s maternal aunt.

I don’t necessarily see this as an issue as long as there isnt the implication that motherhood as a female is the ultimate way to serve, as that can be alienating for those who cant or dont want to birth or raise kits. But I mean all power to her if that was what she wanted. 

CliffClan’s song/aesthetic: The Well by Woodland.

Lastly, there’s ForestClan! These cats inhabit the temperate redwood rainforest, and are generally seen as the most ‘mysterious,’ because they’re literally shrouded by the darkness of the trees. Typically, ForestClan cats are big and muscular, typically long-furred with darker pelts. Brown is especially common, as well as black and tortoiseshell. Ginger cats are seen as a bit prettier, and, depending on the times, white cats can be seen as beautiful or as a bad omen (it’s harder to hunt in the dark forest with a white pelt). They hunt all sorts of forest creatures, such as squirrels, mice, chipmunks, racoons, rabbits, etc. ForestClan cats are even known to take down animals as big as deer. This is only done on rare occasions - such as for a Gathering or in times of great hunger - but it’s still quite the impressive feat.

Deer are a pretty big thing to take on, Im curious how they do it. If they can take on deer, does this mean that other more natural to their size predators (foxes, badgers, coyotes, etc) aren’t as much of an issue?

I explained the deities and system in another post, but I’ll go over it briefly. ForestClan has three deities - The Sisters - who live on their territory in the form of three ancient, enormous redwood trees. Maieth is the largest tree, and the eldest sister. The leader who represents her duty to ForestClan is called Maieth’s Ward. The second eldest, the dead tree, is Kenoake, the leader who represents her is called Kenoake’s Ward. And the youngest sister, the smallest tree, Aerin - the leader who represents her, is, you guessed it, called Aerin’s Ward. The leaders’ deputies are more like apprentices who have to learn the ins and outs of their role, as there is much more to it than keeping everybody safe from harm.

Oh yes I remember that post. Its all coming together now.

ForestClan’s crafts are also highly sought after, as they make the most use from clay, bones, and paints. Crafts also pay a larger role in clan life to ForestClan than in the other clans. All kits are given necklaces when they’re born, each with a clay bead and a piece of bark from each of the Sisters strung on it. For each event in their life - their apprentice ceremony, their warrior ceremony, a particularly impressive catch, officially becoming mates with another cat, etc. they gain another bead and another piece of bark (from the tree that best pertains to the event; ceremonial from Kenoake, becoming a parent from Maieth, gaining apprentice from Aerin). Necklaces can be decorated with feathers, bones, etc. is the cat so wishes. For special ceremonies, ForestClan cats decorate themselves with ‘paint’ made from crushed berries or mud. They also have special bone wear - tied together with sinew, they drape bones over their pelts, such as rib bones. Leaders wear the skulls of killed deer during ceremonies.

I like the idea of the beads and bark based on what happens during their lives, its a really nice way to remember and give meaning. 

ForestClan cats don’t wear as much ‘clothing’ as SeaClan or CliffClan, their specialty lies in more decorative crafts. One of which is their bone wind chimes, put together with sinew, sticks, and clay. This is especially popular with CliffClan, who enjoy placing them on the branches of the Great Willow. ForestClan’s camp is thoroughly decorated with them, and they’re also used as markers in the woods so cats don’t get lost. Their other especially popular craft is clay bowls. These are great for medicine cats to store their herbs, or to carry fresh water to camp. ForestClan cats also use them to store and crush berries to be used as paint.

Wait wait, clothing? I didnt realize the other clans wore a form of clothing. Why do they wear clothing? Is it to protect themselves, to better carry tools? As for the bone wind chimes, thats a lovely image, both haunting and beautiful to think that these cats have the knowledge to understand and enjoy music.

(On the map)

Mossy Hollow - a soft area for sparring and learning to climb. The mossy ground makes it so, if they fall, it’s not too rough. The springiness also makes it a great spot to practice leaps and fighting/hunting moves. The pond is a great source of fresh water, and the light shining through the trees makes it a good spot to sunbathe.

ForestClan kits are called -sprout, and apprentices are called -sap (sapling). Leaders do not take a special suffix.

This is super cute, I love these suffixes. 

Maieth’s Ward has not been decided, nor has their deputy/apprentice.

Kenoake’s Ward has not been decided. Konoake’s Ward’s deputy/apprentice is Butterflywood, a very gentle cat. They are a bit accident prone, a bit.. Out there. They seem a little odd, but are quite kind, especially to curious kits and apprentices.

Aerin’s Ward has not been decided. Aerin’s Ward’s deputy/apprentice is Cinderspark, a very spunky, eccentric she-cat. She’s quite small for a ForestClan cat, but has very good reflexes and is fast. She’s very excitable as well - I don’t think anyone will be getting over her extremely rambunctious response to becoming deputy anytime soon. Even though she finds it a bit hard to focus sometimes, Aerin’s Ward cited she’d be a great fit for the role - she’s practically Aerin reincarnated!

Vibes: Cocoa Hooves by Glass Animals

As for other details:

Having mates outside of your clan is not forbidden, but it’s taboo - more like an unspoken rule. Both inter clan relationships and half clan kits are frowned upon.. But there’s no punishment for it, save for perhaps the disapproving reaction of one’s clanmates. Medicine cats can have mates and kits.

‘Star’ is a perfectly acceptable prefix. ‘Paw’ is used as more of an insult or to make fun - such as calling someone Heavypaws for being too loud while hunting, or saying someone’s a Wetpaw for falling into the river/pond/ocean. CliffClan cats don’t use this very much, for obvious reasons.

Interesting, but does open up the ability to make names with star as both prefix and suffix I suppose. 

Cats may also leave their clans to join another, if they wish. Again, it’s not forbidden, but it’s.. Odd. Chances are the cat would be then hated by their own clan and an outcast in their new one (well, save for CliffClan, they’re probably the most welcoming of all). The other issue is that of a culture shock - unlike the canon clans, where, if it weren’t for the territory differences, would be just about all the same, the Coastal Clans are quite different. The different territory, leadership system, naming system, etc. might all be a bit tricky to get the hang of. There’s also the issue of the afterlife - where will they go? For example, for Ripplestream, he’s incredibly scared that since he won’t be buried at sea.. Will he be cursed to live as a ghost for the rest of his existence? Will he be taken in by whatever afterlife is offered to CliffClan? It’s all awfully frightening. It makes the issue of switching clans one that needs careful consideration.

I feel like hearing Ripplestream’s background would also help to understand some of the smaller details of this. But it does make sense that it would be odd. These clans dont seem to be aggressive or territorial so it does make sense that they might not react as badly as they could to cats moving clans. Most of the stress seems to fall on whoever is moving, as they would have to learn to live a whole new way of life. 

There is no communal gathering spot - each moon, a different clan will host the gathering. CliffClan often hosts the gatherings at The Ponds, ForestClan at the Mossy Hollow, and SeaClan at The Falls. Gatherings are less formal events held by the clans to report of new apprentices, kits, findings, etc. They’re fun! Gatherings are often all day events, full of competitive games (sparring, hunting contests - medicine cats even have herbal trivia competitions), chatting, gossip, trading, and eating. Each clan brings prey and crafts from their own territory. These Gatherings are held bi-monthly, on the day of the full moon.

Each clan often comes dressed their best - SeaClan with their shells, ForestClan with their bones and paint smeared on their fur, CliffClan with their woven wear. Of course, by the end of the Gathering, most of this is put aside as the cats get more comfortable with each other.

So Im curious as to why the gatherings even happen. Was there some kind of war way back in the past which requried a peace settlement? Was it cultures seeking a way to trade and congregate together so a monthly gathering was a good way to do that? So far seems like you have thought through this quite well. Thanks for the submission!