#taking several steps back from deviantart though

[nabhx]

Sometimes I think about how one of my Duman drawings got added to someone's fetish filled favorites on DeviantArt, where they had a thing for bare (sometimes filled) male upper bodies?? So naturally I'm never drawing a bare chested man again ig- Jk a singular note on this and I'll do it again

[charlieweasleyxmc]

Trouble in January

“Pssst.”

(Y/N) whipped her head around to see Penny, jumping back away from the corner they had been peaking around.

Dora, who had also been surprised by her fellow hufflepuff, was a couple steps away from the corner now as well.

“Fiddlesticks, Penny,” she said, shaking herself out, “you could scare a witch into a heart attack like that.”

“Chiara and Diego told me you were sneaking around outside the teacher’s lounge. I wanted to know what you guys were up to?”

A door clicked open and shut in the corridor adjacent to them and they all stayed quiet for a long moment before the steps clicked away down the hall.

Penny raised an eyebrow when they didn’t immediately answer her question.

“Alright, if you must know, we’re waiting for Professor McGonagall.”

“Why?”

“None of your business,” Dora replied matter-of-factly to her.

Penny raised another eyebrow, but Dora folded her arms, giving the hufflepuff prefect a stubborn look. Penny proceeded to fold her arms in reply.

“Okay,” she said, her voice stern, “but don’t lose hufflepuff any points, Dora.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dora waved her hand, turning back to peek down the corridor to the teacher’s lounge as the door clicked open again. “I’m the biggest ‘loser’ of hufflepuff.” She didn’t seem at all concerned with the idea.

Penny sighed, but didn’t walk away, apparently concerned with the idea of leaving them to their shenanigans more than being afraid of losing hufflepuff more points by being there herself.

That’s what (Y/N) thought at least until she saw the spark in Penny’s eye as she crouched down beside them.

“Okay,” she said, her voice alive, “I’m in.”

Dora grinned, “Here’s the plan—”

Passing notes in hallways and classrooms had already been something of a staple activity at Hogwarts, but became even more common as the next week waxed on. (Y/N) exchanged more than a few knowing looks with some of her classmates, including Jae Kim, Tulip Karasu, Fred and George Weasley. She was talking with Charlie late into one evening, a sofa in the Hufflepuff common room claimed by her and Charlie when she woke up suddenly, aware that almost the entire common room had emptied, including their various cohorts from other houses.

The Hufflepuff students, who had seen a range of students from all houses enter their common room after supper, hadn’t said a word or cast an unwelcoming look, some of them even joining them in their collaboration with giddy expressions.

(Y/N) blinked weary eyes, the few students in the common room who were still there working on homework in the corners of the lobby.

(Y/N) blinked awake, sitting up just enough so that she rustled Charlie who had fallen asleep on the couch beside her. He blinked his eyes open, his thunderbird eyes wide.

“What time is it?”

“Past time to be going to bed.”

He shook his head as if to shake the sleep off of him.

“Our plan…” she said, hesitating, “do you think it’s going to work?”

“How can it not?” He brushed his hair out of his eyes, including the strands that had come out of his ponytail in his sleep. “You got me to get Fred and George involved. It’s gotta work.”

(Y/N) smiled slightly, nodding.

“Alright,” she said, shoving him onto his feet, “we gotta get to bed.”

Her last class of the day had ended early, Professor Sprout preferring to let them go early as the last class before the weekend.

(Y/N) breathed a breath of fresh air exiting the greenhouses before she walked back into the castle, making her way up flights of stairs before landing on one of the landings right before Gryffindor tower.

She needed to talk to the Weasley twins.

But in her surprise, as she turned a corner into a corridor, she almost ran straight into Professor Dumbledore.

Though maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised as it was the corridor that led to the massive golden griffin, behind which was the office she had visited on many occasions, usually for reprimand.

She made an effort not to look suspicious so that fact wouldn’t repeat itself.

Someone else was with Professor Dumbledore, and (Y/N) made a double effort not to look suspicious as she spied Professor McGonagall beside him.

“(Y/N) (Y/LN),” the headmaster said, bowing his head ever so slightly, his white beard shiny from the light of the afternoon sun coming through the windows.

“Headmaster. Professor,” (Y/N) nodded her head to each of them, endeavoring to look the prime of innocence.

That was probably what tipped Professor McGonagall off.

“What are you doing in the West towers this Friday afternoon, Miss (Y/LN)?” her transfiguration professor asked, a raised sharp eyebrow.

“Just off to the library for some studying,” (Y/N) said, trying to move past them nonchalantly.

Professor McGonagall crossed her arms as she turned to face (Y/N), following her with her piercing eyes, a light of realization entered beneath her hat, “didn’t you just come from the greenhouses?” she peered closer at (Y/N), “you would have passed right near the library on your way up here.”

“I—”

“Oh, let her go, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore patted the woman’s arm, “I myself enjoy taking many circuitous routes around the castle when I’m on a venture. In fact, the other day, I discovered a balcony from which you could look at the black lake from this side of the castle. I would never have found it had I not taken the scenic route, as it were.” He turned to (Y/N), “good day, Miss (Y/LN).”

She could have sworn he winked.

“Good day, Professor,” she said, taking her leave before Professor McGonagall could object.

Professor McGonagall was on her way out of the teacher’s lounge Friday evening, the last of the professors to leave for the night, she left at her normal time. The Gryffindor quidditch team were practicing tomorrow and she liked to be there for one of the practices before each of their games.

It was always good to know what bet she wanted to make with Professor Snape on the outcomes before it came around to the day for a match.

That’s when she heard the explosion.

Professor McGonagall had been teaching long enough at Hogwarts to know the banned sound of students using magic when they weren’t supposed to.

Her ears followed the sound like a blood hound on a scent. It lead her down several sets of staircases and to the very edge of the castle.

Light exploded in front of her when she opened the doors to the Great Hall with a flick of her wand.

And then came the cacophony, a dinge of the loudest sounds Minerva had ever heard raged up before her, along with the brightest lights, and array of colors blazing in the rafters. And then there was the people, what appeared to be the whole of Hogwarts grinning at her and…clapping.

Albus, standing on the dais at the end of the room, spread his arms wide as Minerva entered the hall. The students around her began to gesture her forward, making a slope of an aisle from the front to the end of the hall. She reached the end with all the composure she could muster.

When she reached the dais, Albus motioned for her to stand beside him.

His hands padded down and the hall quieted enough for everyone to hear him.

“As many of you may know, Professor Kettleburn is retiring this year.” The Care of Magical Creatures Professor in question nodded from where he sat at the head table. “I’m sure we will all miss the professor very much…But, as many of you might have noticed, that means that there is a position open in the school.” Dumbledore passed his twinkling eyes around the full Great Hall. “The position of Deputy Head.” Dumbledore winked down into a collection of students below the dais. “A position which I offered to Professor McGonagall and which she has accepted!”

Minerva felt her eyes misting and batted away the thought with an inward flick of her wrist.

“I’m sure you can all join me in wishing the Professor good luck!”

The crowd roared.

And, almost as a side note, Dumbledore said, “and we would like to all thank Hufflepuff House for planning this surprise. Thank you Hufflepuff.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes passed down to the collection of yellow and black bedecked students, their faces bright and smiling, and the group standing at their head, a mix of houses represented in and of themselves. “Happy New Year Everyone!”

[red-the-dragon-writes]

Treasure Hunting

Context: I agreed to write a few "explores" for an art game I play on DeviantArt, Fields of Valhalla. Doe is an intrepid treasure-hunting deer who has recently figured out how to break into dragons' homes and rob them blind go looking for treasure in dragons' lairs. There wound up being several thousand words of this, and three separate stories. As well as an art piece!

Listed here are three stories in one series.

Doe delicately stepped into the cave and ducked her head to avoid banging it on the ceiling. This close she could already tell that there was a dragon in here. Or, something, at the very least- but she figured it was most likely a dragon. She’d never seen a troll leave deep scratches in the wall and carve a fireplace out in the same space, at the very least, and trolls usually at least bothered with doors. And didn’t live in caves. No, this was definitely a dragon lair.

She’d come to see if she could steal away with an egg. It’d make for a spectacular prize, for sure; and to be honest she mostly just wanted to see if she could find one. What bragging rights that would make for; how fitting it would be. After all, if anyone were to return triumphant with a dragon egg from a trip, it should be her.

She made her quiet way into the darkness of the recessed cave and marveled at how neatly laid out it was. She hadn’t been in terribly many dragon caves before, but enough to know that most of their hidey-holes were kind of a… mess, really. Muddy or dirty, full of dust, for sure. Treasures scattered about on the ground, ripe for the taking, as though they were just haphazardly dropped trash and not spectacular jewels or pieces of gold. They were kind of sloppy. Doe always thought that it seemed kind of like a shame, that they kept their lairs in such disrepair, but it really wasn’t her problem at the end of the day. And the mess made it easier to slip a handful of precious treasures into her sack and be on her way, even if she found a dud hole and there weren’t any eggs in it.

She tiptoed deeper, the cave getting darker and darker as she went. There were little side passages clotted with stalactites, wet and dripping, but it looked like the main body of the cave had been cleared away. The floor was smooth and easy to walk on, and the ceiling was free of any dripping spikes though she could see that water was still running down the sides in little rivulets in places. It must have been an awfully uncomfortable, damp place to live. She still saw no treasures, but far off in the distance, dancing upon the walls, she could see firelight.

Well that was bad news.

Doe crept closer to the chamber that the firelight was coming from and then nearly flattened herself into the wall, getting dust and cave water all smudged into the pretty white fur along the ridge of her back and her sides. It was a massive central area. Smelled like someone was cooking something, spicy, almost like human foods. Maybe she was in the wrong place after all. And above the crackling of whatever massive cooking fire had been in there someone was humming.

Carefully, very nervously, Doe stuck her head around the corner to look into the chamber.

Hunched over what looked like a pot of stew, back to her, was a massive dragon. Its lizardlike body was perched upon a long stool, and it was standing up on its back legs, stirring a pot nearly twice Doe’s size and sprinkling leaves into it from what looked like the largest salt shaker Doe had ever seen in her life. The dragon itself was dark blue, with lighter blue feet; but where the firelight touched it it shone a brilliant red, almost brighter than the fire itself.

Tucked away into the corner, behind it, sitting in their own cheerily burning fire, was a large clutch of what looked to be nearly fifteen eggs. Each one was leathery, almost soft-looking, with a strange moving shape visibly shining through from the fire underneath. As she watched, one of them twitched and shook as the—what must have been the baby dragon inside rolled around in the egg, stretching out softly like a sleeping creature.

Doe took a step forward, to get a better look— and there. At this angle she could see the treasure hoard of the dragon as well, a neatly organized shelf filled with trinkets and pieces of gold and jewels taking up nearly a third of the room. Doe had never seen a neatly organized dragons’ hoard before, but it was neat. Still, with the dragon awake and active, she didn’t think it would be wise to sneak in there and try to grab anything—

Sitting on the shelf was what looked like nearly twenty Odin’s Eye tokens. With that many— she could have riches she never dreamed of. Gifts and items she could never have even heard of. That would be a prize worth having, for absolute sure.

She took another step into the room, as quietly as she could, and attempted to tiptoe her way across to the shelf; but she stepped on a discarded bone halfway over to the shelf and the dragon abruptly stopped humming to turn around. Up close, its face was scaly and reptilian, and its luminous eyes struck terror into her heart as they fixed directly onto her. The dragon roared, and Doe panicked.

She grabbed whatever was in reach and hightailed it the hell out of the cave, sprinting as fast as she could as the dragon came hot on her heels, scurrying across the ceiling and bellowing in fury the entire time. She got the fur on her back singed when it spat fire and fury at her, but her luck was great, and she made it out without dying. Once outside, she hid in a copse of trees, struggling not to shake, and the dragon looked around for her fruitlessly, squinting its big eyes against the burning sun, before eventually giving up and shaking its head and walking back into its lair.

That was terrifying.

Doe glanced into her heavy bag, laden with treasures. Well. She was probably never coming back here again, but the trip hadn’t been a total bust. Not by a long shot.

-

Story 2: Close Encounters of the Reptilian Kind

Doe tightened up her sack and headed out to the newest dragons’ den she’d scouted out. She was still on the hunt for an egg, of course; but this one was settled on the shores of one of the deepest, fastest rivers, and it was rumored that gold could be found there like common stones. Doe hoped this meant she could find jewelry, or pieces of precious metals, in the dragons’ lair. They were known for keeping large, messy hoards of gold and treasures, after all; and what greater treasure could there be than delicate pieces of jewelry? And what would suit her better, of course, than elegantly crafted, sparkling jewelry?

As such, Doe packed a nice, big, sturdy bag, something she could take heavy items without much difficulty in. She was hoping to walk out with it laden so full she could hardly even walk. That would be only fair, after all the work she’d put in to get the location of the lair.

The dragon that lived in this lair was a water creature, long and lanky. In the hopes of avoiding the same situation she’d run into last time, she’d sat herself outside and waited for the long black dragon to carefully emerge from its lair, straighten up, and then take a breath and dive into the river for a good swim. It should be out all day; or at least she would hope it would be. The creature was ugly and sharp-scaled, narrow in the face and the body, serpentine aside from the wickedly curved long legs that ended in talons almost like that of a hawk. It was a thoroughly alarming monster. She’d rarely seen a dragon that looked nearly as… predatory, as designed to hurt and cause harm. But it looked like an eel that had been turned into a dragon; and Doe was not a fan of eels either. So perhaps she was just biased. Maybe it just looked like a perfectly normal sea creature with jagged, jutting teeth and massive jaws and tiny, beady eyes that never blinked.

No, Doe had not wanted to find herself stuck in the half-collapsed structure with that thing inside it. She waited for it to leave. And once it had left, she slipped inside.

This lair was some half-sunken ruin, the remnant of some building that the ancient humans who had lived in this area had once made. It was, in its prime at least, a castle, white stone reaching up into the sky. Now the spiralling towers had collapsed, and weather had worn the once-bright stones, nearly the same color and sheen as Doe’s fur, down to a dull gray-green and brown. There was water all coating the uneven stone brick floor, and her hooves splashed and echoed loudly down the hall. Plants were growing through the broken windows, and vines hung lowly from the damaged ceiling. In places, Doe could still see faded paintings on the walls; but in others the paint had flaked off, or been peeled off. Here there was a mural of a knight, sitting astride a massive rukaan; the knight was battling with a massive creature. It was too faded and damaged for Doe to really make out the details, but the face of the knight had clearly been intentionally scratched off and defaced.

Doe figured that if she were a horrible gross monster, and she were living alongside a painting of some human killing a horrible gross monster like her, she might try and deface that painting, too. That was kind of sad, actually. She took an experimental swing at the painting with one hoof, and a big sheet of the paint fractured and fell to the ground, splashing into the muddy water.

Oh, okay. That was going to be noticed. Uh, hm. That wasn’t smart.

Doe decided to hurry up and go get her treasure instead of standing around looking at the scenery, after that. Everywhere there was the clear, crystal evidence of this being a dragon’s lair, of course. There were scratches on anything tall enough and sturdy enough to serve as a scratching post, and discarded scales sat in the shallow water. Finally she made it into what must’ve been the primary cavern of the dragon’s lair, a once-resplendent banquet hall that had clearly fallen into disrepair. Rotting wooden tables were stacked along one wall, and looked to have been made into a sort of rough bed, fur pelts and straw and fallen leaves stacked atop the cracked top of the highest one. Piled in one corner was a massive, shimmering hoard of old coins and precious stones, and perched on the very top of the pile was a spectacular set of golden armor, and a crown fit for a king. The armor was a bit big for her, but clearly made for a rukaan; the crown was far too small and probably meant for a human. Doe shoved it into her bag regardless, struggling to pull the armor onto her back; it was fortunately tied together in a bundle but unfortunately rotten and nearly falling apart at the seams regardless of the fact that the metal wasn’t even tarnished. It might have been ceremonial. Gold didn’t make great armor, did it? But she would look good in it, and everyone else would be jealous. And that was good enough for her, really.

Doe filled her bag with riches and went looking around for a nest or clutch of eggs, just in case, but she found none; and then she made her way out. While she was walking back through the watery halls she heard a loud, echoing splash, and then what sounded like massive footsteps; and in a panic Doe flattened herself into an alcove. There was no place to go, after all, and her hoofsteps were loud and obviously wrong. She found herself frozen, rooted to the spot, after realizing that. Oh, no, oh, no, she was doomed.

She realized abruptly she was right across from the mural she’d kicked, too. Even better. Oh no. It was going to know she was in there.

Before long the lanky creature pulled itself into the room, half swimming, half crawling on its belly. It didn’t see her, or at least it didn’t seem to; it came to pull itself up to its full height, looking at the mural quizzically. Doe held her breath in true, real panic. She could feel her body starting to shake. It was so close, and so big, its talons hooked and nearly as long as her head, and its teeth were even more jagged and dangerous up close, and it clearly could snap her up in one bite—

The dragon turned around to fix Doe with a clear, surprisingly intelligent look. She made terrified eye contact with it.

It nodded once, and went on its way.

Minutes after it left Doe finally relaxed enough to let out the breath she’d been holding and stumbled her way back out to freedom. She— she’d clearly taken some of its treasure. Did it just not care? Did it not notice? It definitely saw her. What did any of this mean?

Doe decided to leave that part out when she told this story. Because really. What on earth.

-

Story 3: Cooperation

This latest lair was an abandoned building again, once the cavernous hall of a giant and now the half-collapsed hidey-hole of a small dragon. Doe wasn’t sure if it was just young or if it was only about the size of a large ruk, but either way was cool by her. Maybe its hoard would be small, but she was confident that it had giants’ treasures in that building of its.

Besides, she’d seen it a few times, and it was a pretty thing, bright blue spangled with gold and silver like the sky. It reminded her of a kingfisher, really, the few times she’d seen it, skittish and delicate with broad wings and a narrow, delicate body. It was currently sitting perched atop the intact part of the roof, staring off into the sky as though it could see something more interesting than she could, something more than just the full moon and the stars sparkling brightly. Its eyes were fixed straight up. It had been doing this for nearly three hours. Doe had expected it to take off, but it hadn’t.

She waited a few more long moments, and then abruptly out of nowhere the sparkling creature sat bolt upright, glancing around nervously. It let out a loud caw, almost like that of a crow, and then a high pitched roar that sounded like it were mimicking the calls of larger dragons. Then it spread its wings, shuffled about a bit, and took off into the air. It made a loop in the sky, around the moon; and then it was gone, blending into the night sky as though its shimmering scales were made for this. It probably was, Doe realized after a second, watching what she thought were its wings flap into the distance. It sure looked like just a cluster of shooting stars.

Nonetheless, with the beautiful creature gone, she was free and clear to go break into its home and steal from it. Er. Explore. Explore its home. And steal from it.

Doe stood up, shaking herself, and went to walk through the long stretch of dark, craggy forest to make it to the dragon’s lair. She kept an eye turned to the skies to make sure it wasn’t coming back, and fortunately it didn’t, and she made her way up to the half-collapsed building with little issue. Up close it stank of mildew and rust, strong and disgusting, and it was cold and icy atop the peaks like it was. The wind blew so much more strongly it was unreasonable. Doe ducked inside the uncovered doorway and into the building, and then quickly realized she’d made a mistake as she looked at the blocked path in front of her. There was a little hollow arch, something she could maybe get through, but it was nearly flat to the ground. Evidently the dragon used that on the regular, but Doe’s legs weren’t designed to bend that way, and she didn’t see a way through. She stuck her head through it, struggling to push herself through, but eventually had to admit defeat after nearly getting herself stuck and hearing the whole of the partially-collapsed roof, leaning on the ground and above her, creak and groan as she struggled to free herself. If that came down, she would be dead, her spine broken. It wasn’t worth it.

She went back outside and let herself in from one of the broken windows instead, neatly making it in without having to worry about the broken segment. It wasn’t great, and she scraped herself up on the sides on the broken glass- evidently there was a reason that the dragon didn’t use that method of entry- but they weren’t serious wounds, and she would be just fine. Finally she made it to the central hall, freezing and shaking from cold, dripping little droplets of blood onto the stained and half-frozen floor. Not so triumphant. But surely the treasures would warm her heart, even if they wouldn’t warm her poor frozen ears or her poor freezing hooves.

But when she made it to the central room, fire cheerily burning in the cracked hearth, there was no treasure. The room was almost totally bare. There was clearly a little nest in the corner, built up with sticks and twigs and what looked like scraps of fur it had collected from somewhere, and there was a dead wolf lying in front of the fire. There was maybe twelve kroner lying in the center of the room on the floor. Probably the beginnings of this dragon’s hoard. It really must have been very young after all.

Doe sighed, and went to dig around in the halls. Maybe she could find some treasures the dragon had failed to turn up.

It turned out she was right. After nearly hours of searching, occasionally returning to the center room to warm herself up a bit more, she finally stumbled across what must have been a weapons cache that hadn’t been cleared underneath a rotten section of collapsed ceiling. She could see the glimmering red-gold and steel, still bright after all the exposure to the weather; but the debris was heavy and hard for her to get a grip on. She couldn’t free it, and she was starting to get seriously concerned about really hurting herself if she tried. Every time she shoved a piece of the rotting wood or collapsed brick over, the entire structure groaned and twisted, and the more she moved, the more unstable it seemed.

Then, horrifyingly, while she was tugging at a board with her teeth, she heard flapping overhead; and looked up at the gaps in the ceiling to see the eyes of the sparkling sky-dragon looking down at her curiously.

“Oh no,” Doe mumbled.

The dragon glanced at her, and then looked at the room she was digging at, and then fluttered down to the ground alongside her and struggled to grab the other end of the board Doe was pulling at. Doe registered that after a second and renewed her efforts.

Between the two of them, they were able to much more easily clear the path, though there was a scary moment when half the bricks behind them came down. Fortunately, they didn’t block the hall; but Doe jumped and pranced nervously, and the dragon took off and fluttered back to the ground after a couple seconds. It made a quiet coo at Doe after it landed, and she ducked her head and snorted reassuringly. On that note they went back to work, by mutual agreement.

The giant weapons, once they were cleared out, were far too big for Doe to even try to carry them out. There were flails and axes, heavy swords and massive knives, and even the smallest of them was too big to fit into Doe’s pack. The dragon watched in mild consternation while she struggled to take them, before eventually lifting one of the massive heavy tools and dragging it back to the central room without much of a care. Doe went to help with that, because even if she wasn’t walking out with the treasure the dragon sure seemed to want her help with getting it; and there, lo and behold, on the ground below the sword she’d picked up, was one small heap of gold coins sitting in the rotted remains of what had probably been a massive money-pouch. Doe scooped it into her bag, hoping the dragon wouldn’t notice, and then went back to dragging the weapons in to sit near the hearth.

When they had all been dragged in, the dragon chirped happily, sounding for all the world like a bird. Then it ducked its head to its chest, and carefully plucked one of the golden shimmering scales from its breast with both hands. It held it out to Doe shakily in what was clearly a demonstration of thanks.

Doe took it carefully and set it in its pouch, and she could’ve sworn the dragon smiled at her before curling up atop its new pile of weapons.

When she got home and could see it in better light, the dragon’s scale wasn’t gold at all. It glimmered, iridescent, in the light, and sparkled as though it held the entirety of the night sky in it. It looked gold on first impression, or maybe silver, but if she looked closer, she could see spots of pure black shining through, and bright gold and white and blue, and if she looked any closer than that she started getting dizzy, as though she were going to fall into it. Truly, she’d never seen anything like it.

And this is a model of the dragon's scale, made in Blender!

[smygarding]

viola tricolor | Zaraki Kenpachi x Male!Reader

General information:

Kenpachi Zaraki x Male!Reader

warning(s): sexual suggestions reader info: the reader will go by he/him/his pronouns. word count: 1404 other info: this is not following the anime/manga, but the reader is a shinigami and most likely a part of squad 11. please note that this is also posted on my quotev and deviantart. this is not beta read, so please excuse me if you see any mistakes.

-

Yellow, blue and purple.

Your vision focused on and trailed over those exact colours – representing the old and new – the faded and visible.

It wasn’t unusual for your entire neck and chest area to be covered in those marks – hickeys. It sent more than one message – especially stating a certain someone’s ownership and claim, so to speak.

Not that you minded, not at all. You had caught yourself a number of times tilting your head and exposing your nape in the mirror – only to get lost in the colours, the sensation of trailing fingertips over every mark, remembering what caused them and overall admiring how they made your (s/c) skin bloom.

Every part of your shihakusho laid abandoned in your shared bedroom, crinkly and scattered all over the floor after a long, adventurous night. Battered and bruised in the most delightful way, you stared at the reflection of your own exposed body with a secret smile. You couldn’t stop relishing in the marks spread over your entire figure like some self-indulgent sickness there you stood tracing every love bite, pressing down on the bigger ones.

Lost in admiration, you failed to notice your own lover step into the bathroom behind you until he placed a huge, calloused and scarred hand on your hip. The sensation he brought washed over you instantly and you couldn’t help but relax into his grip as he dug into the hand-shaped bruise from the coupling, most likely creating a darker mark. It should have startled you and it probably would have, but you were used to his possessive hands – just as you were used to his crushing reiatsu.

“Kenpachi.” snapping out of your own trance, you acknowledged the older man by leaning into him. His signature smirk manifested on his lips by the call of his name and again you felt a hand on your hip.

“Little one,” Vibrations rumbled through his chest as he spoke. It made you shiver with anticipation. Not to mention your boyfriend’s gravelly voice was a dead giveaway. “Were you starin’ at my marks again?”

The following nod was inevitable and immediate. In these situations, it really seemed as if your own body had a mind of its own.

The way Kenpachi spoke of the hickeys littering all over your body as his, made your breath hitch and heart speed up. What even was your relationship made of nowadays?

“I just…” You trailed off, chewing your lip. Reflection-Kenpachi quirked an eyebrow. “I like everything about them.” You didn’t have to glance at the mirror to know he was raking his uncovered eye all over your body, taking it all in as if he saw your naked form for the first time.

Another set of vibrations crawled down your spine. As if Kenpachi was purring at the mere sight. No one knew his antics better than you, and the weight of his stare was enough to make your hair stand up on the back of your neck – especially when it felt as if he was drilling holes all over.

“Everything, huh?”

“Yes…”

Thin lips met your nape in an affectionate peck as his long, loose hair tickled you. You felt it before you saw it, having lost focus of everything around you except him. It was also a cue to continue.

“I like how they feel-,” You began only to be interrupted by your own gasp. Kenpachi had moved his hands away from your hips, slid them upwards your sides and pressed down on various marks.

Just as fast as his ministrations had begun, they ended. Another clue to go on.

“And I like to remember how I got them.” Something warm and wet brushed over several love bites before a set of strong, canine-like teeth bit down and you knew they drew blood. Before you even were allowed to feel it trickle down your shoulder, the same wet muscle lapped up every drop.

Kenpachi’s bloodlust was still present. Whether it was in battle or bed, it didn’t matter.

Drunk on pleasure and pain, your knees buckled in response. A pair of hands held onto you again – stabilised your staggering body and pressed you closer into the captain behind you. The urge to touch the new bite mark caused your fingers to tingle and twitch, but you suppressed it by focusing on the throbbing fire surrounding Kenpachi’s perfect dental impression etched into your nape.

“’s that all [Name]?”

“No.” You answered smugly, regaining some of that teasing spark Kenpachi loved dearly. You were almost challenging him with the sly smirk painted on your lips as you reached your arms upwards to brush through his slightly damp hair.

The two of you made quite the pair in the mirror. His muscled and scarred body towering behind your own (body shape) form – joint in a loving embrace.

“Most of all,” there was a teasing pause to keep Kenpachi on edge, “I love how they make my skin glow and bloom. My body is covered in pansies and forget-me-nots, which is also kind of fitting.” Laughing you turned around slightly to lock eyes. “Do you know why, baby?”

When he shook his head in denial and the look in his eye changed to a curious one, you chuckled lightly and tugged on his hair playfully, getting a warning growl in reply.

“Forget-me-not, love. As if I’d forget you when memories of you are scattered all over me.”

Thin, scarred lips spread into a pleased smile and his signature snicker filled the room. Again, your heart fluttered with excitement and you cursed your own traitorous body for giving in so easily. However, deep down you knew that all Kenpachi had to do to sweep you off your feet was to flash his pearly whites in your direction. Oh, how weak your heart had become.

“You really have no idea just how much your words really affect me, boy.”

Hot breath tickled your lobe as your boyfriend growled every word lowly, almost he was confessing a deep sin. You shuddered.

“Believe me, baby, I think I do.”

His hands had once again found their place on your hips and held onto them like nothing before. The two of you hadn’t moved an inch towards your shared bed and you had still gained new bruises.

A shaky exhale rung through your ears and you were immediately reminded on your lover’s lack of patience.

Kenpachi’s fingers dug harder into your skin than ever. “I don’t think you do.”

Between those words laid a threat. It was begging you to challenge him, but at the same time promised you hell if you did.

“Oh-,” You bit your own lip to stop yourself from speaking further and you bowed your head down to avoid eye contact. A satisfied hum was heard from above and you could feel the vibrations through his chest better than ever.

The suspense was buzzing around you, keeping the both of you on the edge and creating the most fragile eggshells everywhere for one of you to finally shatter.

Having had enough of the teasing, yours and his combined, and having made up your mind – you spoke: “But I can sense exactly how I make you feel. Through touch or sight, I know. Though I might not have a complete picture of what goes on in your mind, I do see your visible reactions.”

“I am a simple man after all,” his eye raked over every part of your naked body once again, not showing one ounce of embarrassment. “and I very much like what I see.” Kenpachi Zaraki was the most shameless person you’d ever met, but at the same time, you appreciated his bluntness.  

“I should hope so,” you scoffed with a hint of amusement, “or I wouldn’t see any point of turning me into a walking love bite.”

Kenpachi’s heartfelt laughter hit you unexpectedly and your cheeks flushed. You knew he wasn’t a man of affection nor a man who spoke of his love for you in a poetic manner, but judging by how he caressed your thighs and waist you immediately concluded that you didn’t need anything more.

“Well,” familiar sharp teeth started to nip teasingly just beneath your jaw, “then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me create some more, do you?”

The question was, of course, rhetorical, but that didn’t stop you from exposing more of your bruised flesh for his mouth to feast upon.

[blastoisemonster]

Marmalade Boy

Before talking about today's spinoff, I'd like to take a step back for better context and briefly describe the interesting relationship Italy has with japanese culture: the two countries, despite being so distant and having developed from very different histories, have been called similar in their habits and in many aspects of the daily life, to the point of showing mutual affection for eachother’s society and products; in our case, we’re especially talking about entertainment.

Which takes us to the slice-of-life anime genre: true animated soap operas originally maybe only targeted at an audience of female teenagers but that, once in italian territory, end up catching interest of the whole family with its intrigues and linked episodes. 1980/1990s Italy clicked perfectly with them; not only a great amount has been brought in Europe thanks to our translations, but a selected few have been taken as inspiration for completely original work based on that universe. Basically, yes, our television companies have produced anime fanfiction dramas. One striking example is Love Me Knight - Kiss Me Licia, which became something like a pre-Pokèmon nationwide phenomenon: not even Japan (which produced only one season and then called it quits) understood how or even why the average italian loved this saccarine shit so much, and still today the girl who originally sang our Kiss Me Licia opening basically owes her whole career and popularity lasting more than three decades (she's still singing anime openings and even doing concert tours) thanks to the leading acting role she played in four live action Kiss Me Licia sequel series. You've read it right, four. All met with huge success from 1986 to 1989 for a grand total of 144 episodes. Original mangaka Kaoru Tada knew nothing about this and the studio responsible for the animated adaptation of the manga, Toei Animation, had not even been contacted for the rights: truly, our entertaining industry was making fanart just as the average kid on DeviantArt likes to post his not-so-traced Goku drawings for everyone to see.

The second most remarkable big shojo love Italy had is the subject of this post, Marmalade Boy, known in Italy as "Piccoli Problemi di Cuore" (literally translated: Small Heartaches). The Mediaset adaptation team wanted to create another big Licia phenomenon but, this time, instead of producing live action spinoffs, they went and actually contacted the original author, Wataru Yoshizumi, for permission on modifying the anime's plot. Piccoli Problemi di Cuore has been one of the biggest and most coherent works of animation "cut-and-paste" the team has done during that late 90s, resulting in a completely new italian anime series of 70 episodes (out of the 76 original ones) inspired by Marmalade Boy's plot. And as expected, this became a huge hit: it started airing at the beginning of 1997 and it captivated the audience so much that after a while they had to move it to another channel and time block because people were watching it more than the news. This also allowed Italy to export their own Marmalade Boy inspired creation as a whole different anime with the international name "A Little Love Story". Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was the anime all the big sisters and more romantic girls of the class followed almost religiously at the time of its original broadcast. Of course I wasn't part of that audience at the time, but after having researched the very interesting backstory of our adaptation, I'd be more than curious to at least take a look at it. And the manga? The original 8 tankobon got translated in my country by Planet Manga several times: the first publication was split in 16 volumes, the second one had 8 issues, and then there's the "Gold" edition of 8 volumes with alternative covers. Oh, and just to be sure everyone had bought it, a fourth edition has been published as recently as 2015. Be it manga or anime, Piccoli Problemi di Cuore was always absolutely famous and great.

And then there's the Game Boy spinoff, that instead is exclusive for Japan. How come? Released by Bandai in 1995, this title had been originally conceived for the Game Boy and only three months later a Super Famicom version showed up, making it a unique strange case of an handheld exclusive coming second for home console, and not the other way around. Also, it’s a dating simulator! Personally, this is the first of this genre I see on the small screen.

Adorned with cute checkers patterns all around and predictably nice-looking sprites and background scenes, this game has the player assume the role of female protagonist Miki Koishikawa and flirt with three suitors: Yuu Matsuura (technically Miki’s main love interest in the original anime), Ginta Suou (long time Miki’s classmate and secret -even corresponded- crush, but too proud to admit it), or Kei Tsuchiya (a talented yet troubled pianist, also Miki’s coworker at Bobson’s ice cream parlor). A lot of places from the anime, such as the protagonist’s school, workplace, and house, can be visited, and there’s many more characters to interact with; all in run-of-the-mill dating sim fashion, Marmalade Boy features tons and tons and tons of dialogue and, as rewards, special cutscenes featuring Miki and the boyo of her life. I really don’t like dating sims at all, so I’m not sure if I could judge it fairly, even if I understood japanese. >.> But as far as I researched online, the general public and fans of the original source do seem to enjoy it, meaning that at least it does justice to the anime. The game seems programmed with passion as well, as it can be used along with a Super Game Boy for an exclusive border and more colorful pixelwork; it also has a password system, in case one screws up an answer and ends up with an undesired ending.

Unfortunately, no one has yet provided a translation patch neither for the Game Boy nor the SuFami version, and it’s clear that back in the day of its release, which is two years prior to Piccoli Problemi Di Cuore’s television airing, there was absolutely no interest in seeing it marketed to a western audience. Though, just imagine if an italian developing house would have taken interest into this spinoff as much as the television companies did with the cartoon! We’d have an italian translated Marmalade Boy’s videogame re-adapted to follow our own version of the story. An exorbitant cost for surely meager earnings, yet unmatched peculiarity... and probably, pride!

[imacrowcawcaw]

A Lover With A Red Hot Thong -- Duzzy -- Ch. 1

Author (as known on various sites): luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Wattpad and Deviantart, lady lover - Rockfic, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping blog, @gretavanfleetconfessions

Fandom: Guns n Roses

Pairings: Duff McKagan/Izzy Stradlin (Duzzy)

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, like extreme fluff, attempted humor, airports, Duff has anxiety, Izzy is really good at comforting him, cuddling, sharing a bed, romance, dates, friends to lovers, adorable giggly boys, kissing

Summary: Duff dressed like a stripper from Arkansas that had discovered the Sex Pistols last week, drank more vodka in a month than most people did in a year, baked amazing blackberry streudals, sang Prince in the shower, and made out with his friends when he was lonely. Izzy was pretty sure that he was in love with him. Something certainly comes out of it when they end up spending a rather romantic week (totally not a honeymoon) in New Orleans because somebody (the very Duff of his longings) always loses their passport.

Taglist: @brianmaysclog @love-n-my-heart-4-n-army-apart @1800endmeplease @tymeconsuming @satans-helper @ageofkiszka @karrotkate @therealswanqueen @mountainofthesunn @onlyan-angel @lantern-inthenight @love-philautia @ubernoxa @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies (reminder that I just remade my taglist and organized it as best as I could, but if you either don’t want to be tagged in something (like GNR) or want to be added, just let me know!)

Author's Notes (aka disclaimers): 

1 - Don't own the people or places 

2 - It's a combination of real and made up (to my knowledge) places for this story. Don't use this as a fucking tour guide, I've never been to New Orleans and I don't have memories of anywhere east of Lake Tahoe

3 - The timeline of this is also completely made up. I like to bend reality to my will because I am a lazy writer

4 - I tried my hand at writing a character with anxiety. I'm trying my best with the info online and my own experiences, but please let me know if something is wildly inaccurate and detracts from the story 

5 - I mean no disrespect to the band. I try my best to be a humorous writer, and I think that I have a pretty healthy view of them, seeing both the good and poking fun at the bad. Some of this might come off as mean, but I’m not really trying to be. I just want people to laugh

6 - Trying that thing where I port my WIPs to get motivated. We’ll see if this works!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, September 15, 6:46 AM, New Orleans Louis Armstrong National Airport 

"Duff, what exactly do you mean you don't have your passport?" Axl spit, breathing hard in an effort to diffuse combustion. He was not exactly the happiest camper this early in the morning, especially when some people's forgetfulness interrupted the sleep he had planned on getting as soon as they boarded the plane.

The man being questioned gazed at Axl nervously through wide, panicked eyes. 

"I don't know, man! Er- I mean, yeah I don't have it... I'm pretty sure the last time I saw it was at the hotel when we checked in. I'm sorry! We just got up so early and it was still dark and I kind of have a hangover from last night so I just shoved my stuff in my bag and went downstairs so we wouldn't be late, but now we're going to be late shit I'm sorry I don't-" 

"Hey, hey. Duff, it's okay, just breathe," Izzy soothed, speaking his first words of the day besides a 'fuck off' to Steven, who'd been tasked with waking him up. He settled a coffee-cup-warm, pale hand on Duff's shoulder and turned to speak to Axl.

"It's fine, Bill, we'll figure it out. None of us function well in the morning, do you have your snakeskin belt, hmm?" He asked, knowing that the beloved item was still hanging from a lamp in the hotel room they had checked out of at 4 AM.

Axl's mouth shut with a clack as he glared at Izzy and his damned know it all face. He huffed out a breath and made a big show of rolling his eyes and changing his expression to one of fond exasperation.

"Fine, then, you can figure it out. Don't expect any help from us, though!" 

Izzy snorted at his friend's drama and his statement; Steven was currently trying to convince an off duty captain to let him fly his plane, Axl was Axl, and Slash was still dead to the world behind his hair -- very helpful.

"Okay, well, we'll meet you there as soon as we can. Enjoy your flight, don't become members of the mile high club without us," Izzy replied, pulling Duff up and swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

They walked away, arms brushing with every step, to the sound of Axl screaming at them to bring back his belt, and the disgruntled looks of other early morning airport commuters whom they ignored. Izzy followed the overhead signs back to a check in desk with Duff in tow, hoping that everything would work out and that they could be in Amsterdam with the rest of the guys by nightfall.

No such luck, of course.

"I'm sorry," the lady said with a completely uncaring smile, "but the next flight to Amsterdam, commercial or private, isn't until next tuesday. I can book two tickets for you, Mr. Stradlin, but there's nothing more I can do." 

Izzy sighed, but nodded. He sorted through bills in his wallet, mocking the lady in his head all the while. 'I'm sorry, but your daughter is going to die from a wrench to the eye socket. I can give you a bandaid, but there's nothing more I can do.'

Duff, though, having woken up on the walk over, was looking closer to an anxiety attack than the mild annoyance Izzy was feeling. 

He quickly excused them and grabbed Duff's wrist, pulling him a few feet away for the false illusion of privacy to calm him down.

"Shh, shh, take a deep breath," Izzy whispered, hands gripping Duff's shoulders to force them to look straight in each other's eyes. "Everything will be alright. We'll find your passport, hang out in the city for a while, then go meet up with the guys. Easy, no problems. Relax babe, just try to relax and breathe."

Duff tried to steady his breathing as he clung to Izzy, pulling the man into a hug. He wasn't sure what he would do if Iz wasn't here -- his friend was usually the only one who could stop his incoming anxiety like that.

They stood there for several minutes; Duff regaining a normal breathing pattern, and Izzy slowly rubbing his back. As they pulled away from each other, Duff spotted a hippo in Mardi Gras attire glaring at them in disgust. He smirked rather weakly, still a bit shaken and queasy from his panic but back on the track to his usual self.

"Hey, Iz, it looks like we have an audience, and he's not very pleased."

Izzy grinned back at him, relieved that the Duff he knew was still kicking. Besides, this was their favorite game. 

Every once in a while, the boys were subjected to odd stares and the occasional slur. Usually, it was just for dressing like Dolly Parton while shoplifting, but occasionally, it was because they got pretty close. Sometimes they were drunk, sometimes they were just talking to each other or hugging, sometimes because they were blatantly trying to piss off as many people as possible (sometimes the "people" included Axl).

Izzy moved his hands from Duff's shoulder blades, one wrapping tight around his waist and the other getting a firm grip on his delectable ass. 

Duff snorted and cupped Izzy's face in his large hands, angling him upwards slightly so that they could lean their foreheads together. He bit his lip to stop from giggling, and Izzy brushed his own mouth against him for a split second, getting a quick hint of teeth and coffee-breathe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Izzy saw the man visibly shudder, his beady eyes grimacing. 

A fake blond, middle aged woman Izzy assumed was his wife laid one hand on his polo shirt, as if in an effort to calm him down. It had the opposite effect. The man grunted and skewered his mouth to the side, squinting even more as if a giant rainbow spotlight was being blasted into his eyes.

Izzy smirked, though it was barely noticeable against Duff's mouth. 

Duff murmured something about 'making a scene', but Izzy knew he was referring to their audience and not themselves. Neither of them cared who saw this, though if it was printed in any magazines Axl might try to suplex them out of a window. "Try" being the key word -- the little red terror was too chicken to actually try that with Izzy, and too short to get enough leverage on Duff. 

Somewhere behind him, Izzy heard the woman whine, "Oh, Charles!" like she was getting the worst rimjob of her life. 

"It's disgusting, Carol! I won't stand for it!" 

"Time to get going?" Duff whispered, pulling back an inch.

Izzy gave him one last searing kiss and an extra probing squeeze to the ass then nodded, breaking away. They quickly picked up their suitcases and high tailed it out of the building, leaving dust, stares, and a purple and green, mouth breathing, homophobic fatman in their wake. 

Duff laughed as they came to a stop in the middle of a group of Japanese tourists. They all turned to look at him as he barked, panted, barked, and then wheezed with his hands on his knees.

Izzy was looking at Duff too, a rare - though not as much as some people would think - smile on his lips. He patted his friend on the back and pulled out a cigarette, then offered one to Duff. It would make the wheezing worse, but a smoker cares none about that. 

They lit up from Izzy's lighter as the tour grouped streamed past them, completely nonplussed at the disgruntled - or awed, recognizing - stares they received. Once they had the stretch of sidewalk to themselves, Duff stacked their suitcases one atop the other and sat down while Izzy hailed a cab. His long arms soon garnered them a ride and they hopped into the sedan after tossing their bags into the trunk. 

It was blue, with a peeling leather interior and a hand stenciled logo on either window; the usual black and white checkers ran a wobbly circle around the outside of the car. The driver glared at them from underneath bushy brows as they smoked their cigarettes, and Izzy smiled at him politely, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, until he finished and put out his cig on the door's plastic. 

Duff's mind was in some far off place and he didn't notice any interactions taking place. Izzy wondered if he was thinking about how to find his passport, or what to do in the city, or about girls -- or, the bleach blonde head rolling onto his shoulder could have been asleep. The snores more or less confirmed it. 

"Where to?" The driver asked after a minute. 

“Marriott on Jackson,” Izzy answered, turning his torso minutely to get more comfortable.

Etta James’ smoky vocals floated out of the speakers, half of the tone quality getting lost in the maze of beads hanging down from the cab ceiling in a curtain between driver and passengers. Izzy sighed and shifted; the leather creaked; Duff snorted and drool ran down his arm. He smiled down at the man asleep on him and brushed some hair back from his sticky mouth, fingers slowly tracing Duff’s jawline. 

Michael Andrew Mckagan was a unique specimen, that was for sure. He was laid back and welcoming, yet had enough energy to rival Popcorn, at times. He was loving and affectionate to his friends, and scathingly rude to those that hurt them. Duff dressed like a stripper from Arkansas that had discovered the Sex Pistols last week, drank more vodka in a month than most people did in a year, baked amazing blackberry streudals, sang Prince in the shower, and made out with his friends when he was lonely. Izzy was pretty sure that he was in love with him.

The engine of the cab coughed, and suddenly the vehicle was rolling to a stop outside the hotel they had left only an hour or so ago. Izzy gently shook Duff awake and went to pay the man while Duff got their bags back out of the trunk. 

“That will be forty dollars,” the man said, staring Izzy down from beneath his fuzzy caterpillar. Interestingly enough, that was the only facial hair he had; perhaps he’d shaved off his mustache and glued it, hair by hair, onto his brow bone. 

“Really? It was half that to get to the airport two hours ago. What’s your game, man? You think you can scam us?”

Izzy didn’t like being scammed. It was damn near impossible to get one up on him - let alone very rare someone even dared to try - so this guy was about to get it if he thought he could. 

“You ruined my interior. Smells like smoke. I need to clean it now. I know you have the money,” the man glared, narrowing his eyes. The caterpillar hunched down too, like it was trying to curl up on itself to avoid getting eaten by a hawk-nosed Stradlin. 

“Is that so?” Izzy snorted, fishing out another cigarette just for the hell of watching the man get angrier. 

“Here, forty dollars. C’mon Iz, let’s go.”

Duff handed the man a fold of two twenties with a sigh, his other hand subtly resting on Izzy’s lower back for a moment before removing itself again. He wanted to fight it - there was no way that guy should be getting away with charging them double price, fuck that! - but Duff was tired and the money was already handed over. Izzy knew that physical signal from Dff, too, the hand on the back: it meant “leave it”. 

With a final huff and a not so subtle bird, Izzy grabbed his carpet bag from where Duff had lain it on the asphalt and followed his tall friend through the hotel’s front entrance, cigarette dangling from his mouth all the while. 

They made their way over to the front desk, explained the situation, and then they were back inside the mirrored elevator armed with the suite’s key card, going up like they had never left in the first place. 

“Hmm, wonder what it would be like to make love in this elevator?” Duff mused, staring upwards at his reflection in the ceiling. 

Issy followed the bold line of his profile, from Adam's apple to nose to messy hair, before he finally glanced at the ceiling, too. 

“Interesting, certainly. I’ve done it in front of a mirror, but not in a whole box of them.”

“Yeah. Hey, we should come back here and incorporate this into our next video!” Duff exclaimed, grinning at him. 

“Izzy snorted. “What, you wanna come back here a third time? This place got like a magical draw or some shit?”

They both cracked up.

[purplesurveys]

1278

Social Media Survey

[joybucket]

What is your favorite social media site?  Either Twitter or YouTube, though I never use YouTube as a social media site per se so I guess this round goes to Twitter.

Do you use...

facebook? myspace? twitter? snapchat? instagram? youtube? pinterest? bzoink? another site with message boards? tumblr? deviantart? xanga?

Facebook

Do you get on Facebook every day?  Yeah pretty much all throughout the day. I used to never use it, like never ever; but back in college all announcements were coursed through Facebook so I was technically required to be on it regularly, and it was from there that I began to see memes and start to be more active. I’m a shitposter more than anything though and I rarely ever post stuff of my own. How many FB friends do you have?  I have 679 at the moment but I want to get rid of like 500 of them; it’s just such a long list to go through so I never get to proceed with my unfriending spree lol.

Have you ever been on a deleting spree?  HAHA I just mentioned that. I’ve always wanted to, but like I said 679 is already such an exhaustive list for me, and that’s considering I only started touching my Facebook in like 2019. I can’t imagine people who started Facebook in like 2009 and have 4000 friends aka most people I know.

Have you blocked a lot of haters?  I don’t have haters; at least I’m not aware of any that I have. Not that it’s something I care about at this point.

Do you get bullied online a lot?  No, but that’s also because I don’t really open the channels for people to send in hate. I don’t have Q&A handles like Curious Cat and I never pick out that option in Instagram where people can send in questions.

What's your favorite Facebook app?  Oh I never use Facebook for their apps. Are those still even a thing...? Anyway, I mainly go there to be on the hunt for stupid memes I can reshare or to watch videos that are either funny or informative.

Are you a fan of selfies?  I don’t mind if other people do it, but I think I’m honestly bad at selfies so I almost never take them. I’ve never figured out my angles or what filters look ok on me.

Has anyone ever called the police on you because they didn't like your status?  No but I have had my posts reported because they were deemed ‘offensive.’ Which is weird because my posts that have been taken down are those that speak out against disgusting men, which says a lot about Facebook runs their shit more than anything else.

Are you in any facebook groups?  I’m in nearly a hundred groups, both private i.e. for school purposes, and public.

Are you the admin of any groups?  Nah. Too much time and effort needed out of me.

Do you report abuse to group admins whenever you see it?  Yes. I report the post then leave the group.

What could make Facebook better?  They could put more effort into detecting and banning troll farms.

What year did you start using Facebook?  I made an account in 2012 because of a high school class that required us to upload this specific video-format homework onto Facebook (which in hindsight is such an insensitive homework considering that was nearly a decade ago when the Philippines was still severely behind in internet connection speeds?? Ugh). But I didn’t start actively using my account until around two years ago.

What is your current profile picture of?  Myself, posing in front of the sunflowers in school during the recent graduation season.

Did you like the old Myspace better than Facebook?  I was never a regular user of Myspace, so...

Pinterest

What are some of your favorite boards?  I’ve never had a clue what the purpose of Pinterest was. I mean I have an account...but I’ve also never gotten the hang of it?? so I never touch it hahaha.

Have you ever done a craft you saw on Pinterest?  Well no, because I’m terrible at arts and crafts anyway.

Do you have a Dream Wedding board? If so, what's on it?  No.

If you have a Dream House board, what does your dream house look like?  Ok fine this one I did start hahahah but I don’t even remember what I added on there anymore. I’m sure it was filled with modern-style houses with minimalist interior design.

Do you wish they'd bring the "like" button back?  I’m not even aware of this option.

Do you have a Bucket List board?  Not aware of this either.

Which do you like better: Just Girly Things or And That's Who I Am? The second one sounds less childish. < Same, and it sounds like it covers more.

Do you have a board for tattoos you like? If so, what are some of your faves?  No. The only one I ever made was the house one, then Pinterest quickly became boring from there when I realized there wasn’t much else I could do besides making mood boards.

Do you have a "Random" or "Miscellaneous" board?  No.

Have you ever reached the maximum number of boards?  No.

Do you have any secret boards?  No.

Have you ever had a Pin deleted because of copyright laws?  No.

Do you have a Color board? No.

Do you have an About Me board? If so, what's on it? No.

YouTube

Do you have a YouTube channel? If so, what is it?  Technically I do but I only have it so I can tailor video suggestions to my interests and so that I can like videos and subscribe to channels I like.

What kind of things do you post on YouTube?  I’ve never posted any video on there, not even private ones. I’m also not the type to comment.

What do you like to watch on YouTube?  These days YouTube serves as a stress reliever for me, which is to say I would typically go for humorous BTS-related compilations because there are sooooo many hilarious channels that make these great videos haha. Occasionally I’d go back to channels or series that I used to frequent, like Good Mythical Morning, Buzzfeed’s Worth It and Unsolved, Try Guys, Watcher, etc. 

Are you subscribed to any channels?  To so many.

Do you watch any vlogs? If so, what ones are your favorite?  Hm probably Jiwoo’s, though her channel is called Mejiwoo. I find her content calming and conversational and basically fun to binge-watch when I’m not looking for anything super super particular to watch.

If you have a channel, how many subscribers do you have?  0. I’m just a lurker.

Will you subscribe to my channel? (msg me if you want a link!)  Only if it’s really fit to my interests, I guess.

Do you watch music videos?  Rarely; not a fan of MVs in particular. I only really ever put an exception for BTS.

Have you ever watched a TV show on youtube?  Well no since their copyright team works hard and works fast lol. I do watch entire video game walkthroughs from time to time.

Have you ever worked out to exercise videos on youtube?  No, I can’t care less about working out tbh.

Have you watched Amanda Todd's famous video?  No. I’m scared that it might be too upsetting or triggering for me.

Have you ever looked up how to do something on YouTube?  Not really, I prefer looking up articles that can teach me step by step in words.

Do you get a lot of hate comments on youtube?  No, I’ve never posted anything on there.

How long have you been a youtuber?  Never been.

Instagram

Do you post on Instagram a lot?  I do 1-3 Instagram stories in a week, I would say. As for posts, I only have 4 in total and I don’t really feel the pressure to add more. I just post when I feel the want to.

Have you ever posted a poll on instagram?  Nah, I’m not too sure if anyone would participate so I’ve never tried. If you don't have an iPhone, do you wish you could use Instagram?  I’m pretty sure other operating systems can also use Instagram...

Do you have any followers?  Around 50, I think.

Do you like Instagram filters? I’ll use them sometimes to make my stories appear prettier.

Twitter

Do you think twitter is stupid? Hehe show me at least one person who doesn’t think so. < Coming from someone who regularly uses Twitter, agree. It is crazy stupid but stupid is what I’m there for. Which is honestly not always such a bad thing to me - I like that people are more themselves, more stripped-down, vulnerable on Twitter. People always seem to want to show off their best selves on Facebook and Instagram, so I’m actually kind of grateful that there is at least one social media out there where people can just be their clumsy, goofy selves.

How often do you tweet?  Probably a maximum of five a day. Nowadays I’m on there mostly to just scroll through my timelines.

Do you get on twitter every day?  Yes, both on my personal and fan account.

Bzoink

Do you make a lot of surveys?  I never make them but I try to take them as often as I can.

Do you take a lot of surveys?  Haha sorry, was one step ahead of you. Yeah, I do.

Do you post in the message boards?  Nah. I dunno if I’m even permitted to check the message boards on Bzoink considering I don’t have an account.

What types of surveys are your favorite?  Categorized surveys like this one or countdown ones can be fun, but at the end of the day I like sticking to the classic random survey.

Do you have friends on here?  Not on Bzoink, but here on Tumblr yes! There’s a number of people here I like keeping up with :)

Do you post all your secrets on here?  Again, not on Bzoink; but yep I share pretty much everything here.

What type of survey do you think I should make next?  Anything but basic/about me-themed ones that will ask for my name and eye color and weight.

Do you read peoples' answers to your surveys?  I’ve never made a survey.

Do you think you are good at making surveys? 

Do you try to make unique surveys?

What type of surveys do you want to see more of?

Random

This or That

Scattergories

Have You Ever

Are you like me?

About You

Personal, Deep Questions

Girly

Music shuffle

Would You Rather

Do you have this in your bedroom?

Long

Short

All About Your Crush

Fashion

Make-up

School

Music

Your health

Your friends

Confessions

Girl Confessions - how different is this from just confessions? Hahaha

R-Rated

Controversial topics

Myspace

Did you have a myspace when you were in high school?  I started an account in like 4th grade when Myspace was ~big, but I didn’t find it fun and everyone my age was on Friendster anyway, so I was largely inactive.

Do you use myspace now?  No. Is it still even around? I have no clue.

Do you miss bulletins? I didn’t get to join in on the fun so there’s nothing to miss.

Did you like customizing your profile with the old myspace?  Not attributed to Myspace but I did have a lot of fun customizing my Multiply and Tumblr accounts back in the day. That was a period where I really got to learn and play around with HTML :)

Did you have music on your profile?  Not on Myspace again but I did on Multiply! I had a cute little playlist that played the songs immediately as soon as you landed on my page hahaha.

Did you learn HTML when you used Myspace?  Tumblr, yeah. I believe the skills are still there but I’ll definitely be a bit rusty.

Did you have a customized cursor?  Oh, no. Wasn’t a fan of those as I found them a bit tacky.

Did you use glitter graphics?  Also found those tacky haha no, I never used those.

Do you remember posting glitter graphics on friends' pages?  Nope.

Did you make "dolls"?  I don’t recall ever making those.

Did you use photo captions?  Not sure what this is referring to so let’s just say no.

Did you have a photo slideshow on your profile?  Hmmm nope, I don’t think so.

Xanga

Did you have a Xanga account back in the day?  No. It wasn’t big here so I had never heard of it until I started taking surveys on here and heard people mentioning Xanga, actually.

Do you have a xanga account now?  No.

Did you post photos and quotes on your xanga page?  I never had any.

Snapchat

Do you use snapchat?  I did; I was superrrrr active on there for a time. It kind of just got old at one point, though, and my feed got more and more dead until I too just left my account dormant altogether.

What is your favorite filter?  There were a lot of cute ones on there that helped me be more confident with taking selfies but my favorites have to be the dog and flower crown ones.

Tumblr

Do you understand Tumblr?  I had a better handle of it when I ran a fan account that required me to be more active; but now that I really just go on here to take surveys I just use the basic functions and nothing more. But yeah, I understand just enough to get by.

Do you use Tumblr?  Yeah. Even on the days I don’t post surveys, I regularly go on here to keep up with friends I like keeping up with like Elisabeth, Lane, Steph, Lina, Julie :)

Other

What forum sites did you use to love that aren't around anymore?  There was one message board I frequented for this girly/tween magazine I used to collect, but I won’t share the name.

Are there any other great social media sites that you recommend?  I think this survey was able to cover all the main ones I use.

Do you use a photo editing site? If so, what?  I use apps instead of sites to edit my photos.

Do you ever use BeFunky.com?  Nope.

Do you use a video editing site? If so, what?  Nah, I rarely have to edit videos in a super intricate, detailed way. Apple’s video editing features suffice for me.

Have you ever downloaded fonts?  Very occasionally since it’s never necessary.

Have you ever used photobucket to upload an image?  No but I remember going on there back in the day to look for images. I never uploaded any, though.

Do you use iTunes?  Not anymore. I have an account on Spotify now.

Do you listen to music on Pandora?  No, never used it.

[stevenbasic]

I’m shrinking. I’m fucking shrinking. 

I couldn’t believe it, I was so confused. How is this happening?? This can’t be happening!! But it was then that I first really realized it...

We had almost made it out of the dressing room. I was just straightening my tie. All the new clothes - hers and mine - were separated out: ones we wanted, ones we didn’t. We’d been doing this for more than an hour and we really needed to get back to the office. My patients were due to begin…

..15 minutes ago!

“Uh, Melissa,” I began, as she was just touching up her lipstick in the dressing room mirror, “we really need to get b-”

“KNOCK KNOCK!” called a woman’s voice, as the curtain which led out to the store was pulled aside. We both turned, and in came a middle-aged woman with a measuring tape draped around her neck and dress on a rack...a white dress…

...a wedding dress. That’s weird, for a department store, right?

“Oh, you’re almost done in here?” the lady said. She was a salesperson from the store, a real chatty one that we’d found ourselves having to avoid earlier as we shopped. “Oh good. I’m just going to leave this here. It’s a dress that a bride didn’t like, she’s returning it after all the alterations...the nerve...” Why she was explaining this to us, I have no idea.

“Oh it’s beautiful!” Melissa answered, reaching out to finger the embroidered fabric, “Why would she..??”

“Oh I don’t know! And I had to do so much to it - I do it all myself, you know, for the store, the sewing, the tailoring! She was such a tall girl…” the woman said, casting a glance up and down Melissa, and pulling a pencil from out behind her ear, “probably about your height.” The woman narrowed her eyes. “Long legs, too. Like you. In fact...” She pulled out a small pad of paper from a pocket.

“Oh my goodness,” Melissa sang, reading the woman’s intentions, “can I try it on?”

“Well sure, sweetie!!” the saleslady said, glancing briefly over my way,“I don’t see a ring yet but are you two going to be-”

“Haha no!” I interjected, slipping my arms back into my sport jacket. I wasn’t sure if the saleslady was hearing me or more intent on the numbers on her pad. “Nothing like that. We just work together. In fact we were just about to head b-”

“Oh, don’t be a poop! Yes, we’re engaged..!” Melissa laughed, slapping my arm, “He’s so funny!”

Wait what?!

“By this time next year we’ll be ‘Dr. and Mrs. J’, hopefully shopping for baby clothes…” Melissa claimed, somehow with a straight face, “I do need to start looking for a dress sometime, right honey?” 

“Melissa I-“

“And it’s every girl’s dream to see herself in a wedding dress. Here - now…” She cocked her head, hands analyzing the dress, the elasticity of the bodice, “...this should fit, right?”

Wait. What is she doing? I thought.

“Well, let’s see-” the saleslady said, eyes finally fully taking in Melissa’s eye-popping curves, the shadow of doubt settling over her face - perhaps worried, now, about the well-being of the dress. Nonetheless, she pulled out a measuring tape and - without a moment’s hesitation - reached it around  Melissa’s generous hips. “Wow, you’re a big girl,” she said, eyeing the number, stretching the tape to the top of her head. 

Melissa kicked off her shoes as the seamstress measured her height. “I’m forty-six in the bust…” she offered, “right, sweetie?” She looked over at me with a twinkle, trying to keep from giggling.

“Uh, yeah,” I answered. I would have flushed red but had run dry of blushes long ago.

”Six feet...and a bit…” the saleslady finally announced, penciling it onto her pad, “You could try the dress - and you could have it for a good deal.”  She hung her tape around her neck again, slipped the pad away. “Don’t you think she’ll look lovely coming down the aisle?”

“Yes, but..no. Well of course yes but like I said,” I stammered, flustered by how little these women were listening to me, “we’re not getting m-”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be nice, sweetie??” Melissa beamed, her eyes meeting mine in mischief, her hands reaching for mine, giving them an excited shake, “That way we’ll have more money for the honeymoon!” In an instant, she’d dropped my hands and grabbed the dress by its hanger.

“Haha Melissa...really, this is silly,” I said, trying to laugh as she headed back to the changing room, scooping up a shoebox on the way, “We’re not-”

She closed the door on us.

“Will you listen to him? What a kidder,” Melissa sang out from behind the shut door as she, apparently, was beginning to change into a wedding dress, “Don’t think you’re getting away from ME mister!” In the transom over the door, I saw her arms reaching up, already stripping off her top, “I’m going to MAKE you marry me!”

Well, she was certainly enjoying herself, teasing me like this, with this charade. I felt so powerless, absolutely unable to stop her. 

“Oh I can tell already,” she was saying, “This is going to look so pretty! At church, dancing at the reception..so many snaps, though! You’re going to need to help me get out of it afterwards....”

As Melissa changed in the stall, to my chagrin describing our hypothetical wedding night, the saleslady - Lorna, by her name tag - turned to me, smiling. I did my best to smile back, barely able to shrug and deciding, for my own sanity, to play along. I was, of course, telling myself I was hoping that this would be over quickly...but then the idea of seeing Melissa in a wedding dress began to weasel itself into my mind.

For the moment, Lorna and I both listened to the sounds coming from the changing room. Little grunts and giggles of effort from Melissa, the groans of stretching fabric. With each little ‘oof’ I couldn’t help but picture her squeezing herself into the bodice. “Oh I really hope I don’t pop this dress!” we heard her laugh, “If I don’t stop putting on weight you won’t be able to carry me across the threshold!”

As we waited, Lorna spoke up. “I could measure you for your tuxedo right now, hun,” she offered,  already on me with the measuring tape, measuring my arm, shoulder-to-wrist, “We have some nice ones to rent but of course you’d want to buy. About how tall are you?” 

This is not even a battle worth fighting, I thought, despondently helpless to the whims of both these women. “uh...5’11”?” I answered, even as Lorna had me swiftly measured head-to-toe.

“You’re 5’8”, hun,” she replied plainly. 

“Gah! What?” I blurted, “No. That can't be right.  Do that again.”

A mistake, of course, I immediately thought, as the seamstress raised her brows and set back to task. I’ve always been 5’11”...or, well, maybe 5’10 ¾”...But then, memories of little things I’d noticed over the past couple weeks - how my pants had been fitting, the car seat - all rushed back at once, made my vision begin to swim. It was like I’d known something already...but just hadn’t adm-

“Yep, 5’8”,” Lorna confirmed, standing next to me. She was not a tall woman, and looked up at me with bugged eyes through thick bifocals. I knew it made no sense, that she must be wrong, that I’d have to check this myself once I got a minute back at the office - but something inside me was already dark with dread.

“It’s very popular these days, I hear,”  Lorna continued, as a windstorm of confused thoughts began to whirl through my brain, “Couples like you.”

”Couples like what?” I snapped, maybe too harshly as I stood there trying to make sense of this. Had I really shrunk three inches?? And...is she trying to make me feel better?? “And...we’re not a cou-”

���Couples where the girl is taller, hun,” Lorna pressed on, “Lots of women are looking for shorter men, they say. It’s very fashionable. You’ve seen it, right? My daughter was telling me th-”

The door to the changing room opened. 

Holy shit.

Stopping us both in our tracks, Melissa stepped out in a wedding dress that looked - wow. Off-the-shoulder, lacey sleeves, a slinky silhouette. A classic look that was not too different than what my wife wore at our wedding seven years ago - but Sheryl certainly never looked like THIS. The dress accentuated every one of Melissa’s dramatic curves and-

I grimaced as I realized that I had just spent several flabbergasted seconds openly ogling her while she just stood there, looking down...way down...on me. 

“5’8”, huh?” she asked, stepping right up to me with a funny smile

“Oh you look lovely!!” Lorna gushed, “And my goodness with those shoes on so tall..!” She took a step back, to really take Melissa in. “Magnificent, really…”

“Thank youuuuu…” Melissa purred, placing a hand firmly on my shoulder. I looked up at her, and felt smaller than ever. “Maybe we should elope, honey? Next week on vacation?” she teased, “Do the wedding on the beach?”

The imagery was just too much...

“Wouldn’t that be so fun?”

“I think we’d have to take it in at the waist,” Lorna continued, half to herself, stepping up to Melissa’s side to pinch and tug at the fabric with a critical eye, “Let it out here...and there…” She took another step back, nodding in open admiration. “And hon I have to say you look just adorable, standing there next to her,” Lorna crowed, “If you two weren’t a couple I’d get you together with my daughter.”

“Oh no,” Melissa laughed, turning for the moment towards Lorna and inadvertently pressing her large left breast into my upper back, as her strong arm went around my thin shoulders, “Hands off he’s mine!”

Lorna chuckled. “I guess the good ones are always taken, hm?”

“yeah…” Melissa mused, a funny smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes as she turned back to me, possessively straightening my collar, “isn’t that the truth…”

=========================

Had a lot of help from my crew on this one, but especially Alex-GTS-Artist who was kind enough to donate his services and get us a look at Melissssy in a wedding dress. So awesome, thank you! Check out his DeviantArt and support him if you can!

https://www.deviantart.com/alex-gts-artist

[buckysdiary]

It Doesn’t Matter (Pt. 9) FINALE

Warnings: Swearing, Character Death, Violence, Angst, Masochistic behaviour Pairings: Kylo Ren x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 - You are here!

Read this on DeviantArt!

Summary: After Han Solo and Finn break you out of Hux’s impromptu prison cell, you finally find Rey. However, shortly afterwards, Kylo Ren murders his father. You, Finn and Rey all try to escape into the woods, but you know Kylo Ren isn’t far behind. But now, you will both face each other, each in a new light: you’re not under his mind control any longer, and he has nothing to hide from you.

Word Count: 6,624 (Holy cow guys, this is a mega chapter...)

Warnings: Swearing, Character Death, Violence, Angst, Masochistic behaviour

   Finn and Han were sprinting through the Starkiller Base headquarters, and Chewie and I were sharp at their heels. Now and then, I would hear the chaotic sounds of blasters firing and people screaming, telling me that there was some sort of brutal attack on the entire base. We raced past dozens of empty rooms, having to conceal ourselves every so often from Stormtroopers rushing to the scene of the chaos. Finn led us through winding corridors and hallways, seemingly knowing where to go, even though it felt like we weren't making any progress in this maze of a base. I was keeping an eye out for the girl I had seen earlier (Rey, I supposed), but at least an hour had gone by, and she had yet to show up.

   The shock of knowing that my squadron was alive, after believing for months that they were all dead, had been replaced with anger. Anger at my own stupidity, anger at my weaknesses, but mostly anger towards Kylo Ren. He had lied to me about everything - and because of that, I was in a completely different situation than I would have been, had I known the truth. My perspective of everything had changed; I realized that, whether General Organa had been searching for me or not, I still owed everything to her. Even if Alavai and Jaxx were dead (which they weren't), I still should have continued to push myself away from Kylo Ren, instead of finding comfort in him. I owed them that much, if not more. And Kylo Ren... I was disgusted with myself to have let him get close to me. He was a large part of the threat on the Resistance, and I had let him touch me, let him walk by my side. I still wasn't sure if what I had felt for him was a part of his control on me or not, but either way, I was horrified that I had ever even spoken with him.

   As we reached the end of the corridor, Finn and Solo pushed themselves against the wall, and I followed. Several workmen jogged by us with blasters at hand, shouting orders to each other.

   "Is that a PLX 2M?!" Solo whispered.

   Finn looked at him confusedly. "How do you know so much about First Order artillery?" he said.

   "I knew a guy who used to sell them in the underground market." Solo replied. "And, boy, what I wouldn't give to have that missile launcher right now..."

   Chewie let out a small cry, holding up his crossbow.

   "Yeah, Chewie, but sometimes you want to put more than just an arrow in someone's gut." Solo rolled his eyes.

   Finn slowly crept to the other wall, followed by the rest of us. Across the room was a large, metal door; through it's window, I could see racks and rows of different weapons. Being a natural rebel, it was a sight for sore eyes, and I was anxious to get my hands on it all.

   "Well hello beautiful..." I mumbled, unable to hide the excitement on my face.

   Solo chuckled. "She sounds more like me than my own son." he said.

   "Ok." Finn said, ignoring our comments. "First things first, we need some better weapons..." He gestured towards Chewbacca's crossbow, "... no offense. Then we need to get the shields deactivated on the base. The rebel squadrons will be coming in pretty soon, and they won't be able to deal any damage if we don't get those shields down first."

   As Finn continued to describe his plan, my attention was locked on someone else. A chrome-clad Stormtrooper marched down the halls towards the weapons room. Their armor revealed their elevated status, along with the cape that draped over their shoulders. Granted, I had no idea who they were - I hadn't seen them on the base, despite having wandered almost the entire thing.

   I tapped Finn on the arm. "That might be our ticket to the artillery room." I whispered.

   "Perfect!" he said. "Alright - Solo, you cut them off by the door - just grab their attention for a second. I'll come up behind with Chewie, and then- "

   Before he could finish, we heard a loud, animalistic cry, followed by a crash. Through the corridor, Chewbacca had thrown himself on top of the high-ranking officer - despite their attempts to throw him off, his weight held them in place. He looked back at us and gave a victorious yell.

   "You idiot!" Finn said, exasperated. "You could have blown our cover!"

   Solo pushed past Finn. "He is an idiot, don't get me wrong. But at least his heart's in the right place."

   Chewbacca let out a defiant cry.

   "Oh- I'm sorry, your highness, thank you very much for taking the initiative in this."

   Chewbacca pulled the officer back up on their feet, and held their arms securely. Finn approached them and glared angrily through their helmet. "We need access to the artillery room."

   "And what makes you think that I would give a band of fleas such intel?" she said calmly.

   "Huh." I stared right through her helmet. "Never thought the First Order would give such a high rank to a woman, given how they treat them."

   She turned her head towards me. "For your information, I earned my rank. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's interest in my skill had nothing to do with my promotion."

   "'For your information', bitch," I held my blaster under her chin, "... Kylo Ren doesn't give a shit about you. He doesn't give a shit about who's behind that helmet. All he cares about his himself. So stop pretending that you're the favorite one here and give us the code to the damn room."

   For a moment, she stared back at me. "You're right..." she finally said. "As I recall it, you were his favorite, actually."

   My cheeks grew hot from her remark. Angry, I hit her across the side of her helmet with the end of my blaster. She recoiled a bit, and her chrome exterior now had a scratch across it from my gun. Han grabbed me by the arms and pulled me away as I tried to slug her once more.

   "Calm down, feisty!" he spun me around and stared at me in the eyes. "We need this thing alive, remember?"

   Chewbacca growled at Solo, pointing at me.

   Han sighed. "I don't know what she meant, and I don't care, ok? This chick has been helping us long enough through the base, so I'm counting on her as our way out."

   Finn spoke up. "What did she mean, you're Kylo Ren's favorite?" he gave me a suspicious look.

   "Oh, she didn't tell you?" the officer spoke again. "For a while now, she's become his pet. He's been keeping her in his chambers and providing protection for her. He even fought my general to keep her out of harm's way. I don't know what information she gave him to change him into her protector, thought it must have been important."

   "I didn't give him any information," I said angrily. "... he said he- well, it doesn't matter what he said, I didn't make him do anything."

   "Sorry girl, but it does matter." Solo looked me in the eyes again. "What did he say to you?"

   My cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. I felt like a child being reprimanded for doing something I shouldn't have. Is he really going to make me say it? "He said... he said he loved me." I mumbled quietly.

   "Huh?" Finn said.

   "He said he loved me!" I responded, a little louder than I wanted to.

   Solo now had a look of disbelief on his face. "And you believed him?! You gullible sack of scrap metal- "

   "Are you kidding me?!" Finn said, and looked like he might vomit.

   "Look, I get it, it's stupid!" I shouted. "You don't understand how dumb I feel for falling for it! I think he was controlling my mind with that dumb force shit, that's why I believed him!"

   Solo ran a hand over his face. "Oh my god, kids these days..."

   "- but I swear, I didn't tell him anything! I didn't give him information, I didn't trade anything for protection... he just, sort of did it. All by himself."

   "Ok, look here, kid." He looked back at me, serious once again. "I don't care what happened. You seem alright to me, and like you've got your senses back. You've helped us so far, so I'll trust you. But so help me, if you step one foot out of line- "

   "I swear, I won't."

   "- you're going to be his dinner." He pointed to Chewbacca, who growled in agreement. "And it's been at least four hours since he's eaten, so he's hungry."

   I looked at Chewbacca, who gave me a rather toothy, yellow grin. "I promise, I won't."

   Solo nodded, satisfied with my answer. "Good. Now, what's it gonna take to get you to open the artillery room for us?" He looked at the officer.

   Finn thought for a moment, before answering confidently. "I know where the trash compacter is."

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

   After upgrading our weapons, Finn, Chewie, Solo and I continued to sneak around the corridors. Finn kept mentioning the "Rey" that he was hoping to find, which made me wonder why everyone in the galaxy was searching for this girl. Solo and Chewie continued to mumble passive aggressive remarks to each other, despite Finn's shushing. I followed closely behind them all, still fuming about Kylo Ren's lies and the officer's remarks. My emotions were a jumbled mess from being pushed away for so long, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep them at bay.

   Eventually, we had found Rey (after nearly slamming into her when turning corners). She was the girl I had seen earlier, and was much less threatening than I had assumed. Although I couldn't tell why she was so important to the First Order, I decided not to question her origin and intentions. She seemed trustworthy enough, and it was evident that Kylo Ren had traumatized her enough as well.

   Upon seeing each other, she and Finn had embraced for a while, while he mumbled apologies to her and she cried. I stood there in silence, awkwardly watching and wondering how long they had been apart. Chewie stood next to me and grumbled impatiently in the silence, to which we then continued our journey through the base. At some point, amidst the chaos and commotion of personnel running around the base, fighting whatever was attacking them, Han Solo had separated from us. Chewie told us (translation provided by Rey) not to worry - that he could handle himself.

   Finally, we arrived at a large, dark tunnel that ran deep into the ground - so much so that it was impossible to see the bottom. We carefully made our way across the thin platforms and bridges, making sure to avoid any of the Stormtroopers or officers below.

   "Where are we headed?" I asked quietly.

   "Out." Finn replied. "The Resistance is planning on blowing up the entire planet, so we need to get out of here fast."

   "The Resistance is here?!" I said in disbelief. I wondered if Kiera and Delmi were there too. For their own sake, and so I had a chance to beg their forgiveness later, I hoped they weren't. "Do you know how much time we have?"

   "Not long. Hopefully we can get back to the Falcon in time."

   "Look!" Rey cried out, and pointed to a platform below us.

   Upon peering over the ledge, my breath caught in my throat. Han Solo was standing on a bridge, right in front of Kylo Ren. My heart stopped at how close they were to each other.

   "What is he doing?" I said, leaning over the railing to get a better look. Kylo Ren's body was shaking and his shoulders slumped, and with every word he said, Solo's lip would tremble. My intuition was telling me that, whatever was happening down there, it wasn't going to end well.

   Rey furrowed her brow. "Is he reconciling to his father?" she asked.

   Like hell he is... "We need to get him away from Kylo..." I said sharply.

   "But it looks like Solo might have finally knocked some sense into that kid!" Finn was staring anxiously at the scene below. "Is... is he crying? What a big baby- "

   "He's not really crying!" I said, holding my blaster into position. "He's faking it, that son of a bitch!!"

   "Hey, watch it- "

   The sound of my blaster firing drowned out Finn's concerned voice. I never let my weapon down until I made sure it hit its mark - right in the back of Kylo Ren's leg.

   Even from the distance, I could hear his anguished cry as he keeled over. Solo looked up at us with shock and anger. He was obviously shouting in wrath, although none of us could make out what he was saying.

   "What the hell did you do?!" Finn shouted, and snatched my blaster before I could fire again. "Are you crazy?!"

   "I may have just saved Solo's life! That boy is a liar who would sell his own soul to get what he wants, and you can't trust a damn thing he does!!"

   "Or you could have killed him!!" he shouted back.

   "She's right." Rey chimed in, still watching the scene below. "He won't change. We need to get Solo out- "

   Before she could finish, the sound of a lightsaber slashing echoed through the hall. We looked back to Kylo Ren and Han Solo on the platform; Kylo's lightsaber was buried deep into Solo's abdomen.

   "NO!!" Finn shouted. Rey gasped in shock, followed by an anguished cry from Chewbacca.

   My breath caught in my throat as I watched Kylo Ren throw Solo over the edge of the platform. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach as he disappeared into the gaping hole below. I was frozen in shock. "God, no, no no..." I muttered the words over and over, hoping it was a dream.

   "He's gone..." Rey said shakily. "Solo, he's gone. Oh my god, Leia..."

   Kylo Ren looked up at us, before locking eyes with Rey. If he could have had any more hatred on his face, he did. He gripped the hilt of his lightsaber tightly, as if he were going to throw it.

   "Go, go!!" Finn directed Rey away from the ledge as fast as he could. Chewie and I continued to stand there in shock, staring down at Kylo Ren. He now stared back at me, somewhat shocked.

   How did you get here?! His words were full of rage and resentment. I could feel him trying to dig into my mind again; that same, painful scraping from before, when he had tried to interrogate me. Yet, I didn't succumb to the pain. Instead, I was able to feel his emotions. Leaking through the wrath on the surface were sadness, regret, and pain of his own.

   "Why?!" I leaned over the railing and screamed at him. "He was your father, you bastard!!"

   He glared up at me, furious that I could feel his emotions. Come here, NOW.

   The pull was stronger now - I was fighting the urge to obey his command, and it was harder than ever before. I closed my eyes and focused: don't do it, don't listen to him, think of something else. I directed my attention to my hands, gripping the railing as hard as they could.

   "What's wrong with you?!" Finn's shout snapped me back to reality. He ran towards me, Rey close behind. "We need to go, now!!" He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the edge.

   Chewbacca began firing his blaster at whomever he could and yelled in rage. I took one last look at him - although he was beastly, I could see the pain in his expression. He was fuming and hurt that he had just lost his life-long partner, and that it was to the man's own son. He disappeared behind the walls of the room, his cries echoing, as we fled the scene.

   Finn led us outside the dark and sleek interior of Starkiller Base. When I stepped out into the snow, my eyes forced themselves shut; the world around me was so white, from the snow that completely covered the planet, to the cloudy sky above. I hadn't seen such a bright setting in ages, and it was painful to look at. I followed closely behind Finn and Rey, trying to focus on their footprints ahead of me as I fought to keep my eyes open. Above us, I could hear the sounds of X-Wing and TIE Fighters firing at each other. Debris from destroyed space crafts rained from the sky, nearly hitting us as we continued to run.

   Eventually, we entered into the woods. The sky was blocked out by the towering evergreens around us, but the snow still fell heavy. I could hear Finn's and Rey's strained breaths, as well as my own pounding heartbeat, now that the commotion was well behind us.

   "Wait!" Rey shouted, slowing to a stop. She put her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath.

   "What is it?" Finn stopped next to her, concerned.

   Rey took some deep breaths before looking back at Finn and me. Her face was covered in tears and sweat and her hair was a mess. "Where are we going?"

   Finn looked around: although he knew where the fight was going on behind us, there was no other indication that we were heading towards safety. Or, furthermore, if there even was such a thing. The sky was growing darker with each second, making it even more difficult to tell what direction to go in.

   "I'm not sure," he finally said, "... but we just need to get away from the fight. We need to get you back to the Resistance fleet."

   "And what about Han Solo?!" I said angrily. "We're not going to talk about what just happened? That his own son just killed him, and that we had the chance to stop him? But we didn't?!"

   Finn sighed. "We don't have the time for that right now, if you hadn't noticed! And there was nothing we could do!"

   "There was!!" I stood firmly in front of Finn, staring at him with anger. "I tried to save Solo and you stopped me! I could have killed Kylo Ren that moment, but you wouldn't let me!"

   "You had plenty of chances to kill him!!" He matched my volume. "You pranced around with him for who knows how long, and you didn't do a damn thing! You're not any better than me, or even him!! Why didn't you kill him, huh?"

   I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't think of anything to say. Why didn't I kill him? There were so many chances I could have taken, why didn't I even think about it?

   "Face it, you've become one of them, haven't you?!" He continued.

   "Fuck off!!" I screamed as I tried to slug him across the face. Finn grabbed my arms and tried to fight back, although I held my stance firmly and continued to try and punch him.

   "Stop it you two!!" Rey shouted.

   We both looked at her. She was standing straight, her hands balled into fists, and a look of frustration hanging from her face. "What happened was awful, and I don't know what to tell Leia. But we'll have time to discuss it later. We need to get out of here, stop wasting your time and your energy being idiots!"

   Finn and I looked at each other, and instantly I felt foolish. I quickly moved away from him, and he let go of my arms. We both stared in opposite directions of each other.

   I understood what this was - for the first time in a long time, I was finally free of Kylo Ren. Now, all of the emotions that had been pushed back were rising up, more intense than ever. I had to control this, before I couldn't. I didn't want to be like Kylo Ren, who didn't care where his anger directed him.

   "Ok." Finn broke the silence. "So what now?"

   Rey looked around her, as if an answer would pop up out of the snow. "I don't know. Just keep heading away from the center of the base?"

   I nodded in agreement. "That sounds good. We should be safe for a little bit - I can't hear him right now."

   Rey and Finn both looked at me in astonishment. "What?" they both said.

   I froze. Shit! Panicking, I frantically searched for an explanation. "Wh- uhh... y- you don't hear him too?"

   "Hell no!" Finn stared at me like I was a creature he'd just discovered. "What do you mean, 'hear him' ?"

   What now, what now, what now... "I, uhh, sometimes I hear him, like he's speaking to me. Directly. But, it's... it's in my head. But I hear his voice, just... in my... head."

   They continued to look at me in shock. I shifted my weight in the uncomfortable silence. Stupid! Why the hell did you say that? What's wrong with you?!

   "How?" Rey finally said.

   I quickly shrugged. "I don't know, it just happens. He can hear me, too."

   "What?!"

   I slapped my forehead and sighed. You fucking idiot!! "I mean, he reads my thoughts! Erhm, but not all of them. I've been getting better at blocking him out."

   "Oh, so you've been practicing with him, have you?!" Finn crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a suspicious look. Rey continued to hang her jaw in disbelief.

   "No! No, that's not what I meant, just- "

   Suddenly, Rey was launched into the air, screaming as she collided with the tree behind me. She was instantly knocked out as her head hit the trunk.

   "Rey!!" Finn cried out, rushing towards her as she fell to the ground. I began to follow him as well - when I heard it.

   Come.

   I froze, fear rushing through my body. He was close. Kylo Ren was close to us. I had to get as far away from him as I possibly could.

   "No..." I answered, searching for an escape. I let my feet carry me in a random direction as I tried to find any sanctuary from the situation.

   Finn looked back at me desperately. "I need you to help me get her out of here!"

   "I'm sorry..." the words fell out of my mouth, barely a whisper. "I can't stay here, he knows I'm here- "

   "Of course he knows!" Fin shouted angrily. "He knows we're all here! We're all in deep water, not just you! If you run away now, you only put yourself in more danger, or you abandon your friends to die. Is that what you want?!"

   Finn's words quickly sank into my brain. Of course I didn't want that. Just like I didn't want to leave Delmi and Kiera behind. I didn't mean to abandon them, I was just... running away. Saving myself. Finally admitting this to myself made tears flow from my eyes. I never even thought how leaving them behind would affect them, not just my own self. How could I have done that, and truly called myself their friend? "Oh my god..."

   "Look, I almost ran away too." Finn said. "And it didn't just affect me, it affected Rey. I let my fear put my friends in danger - I was a coward."

   "I'm not a coward." my voice shook as I spoke, more to myself than Finn. Although I knew the words were a lie.

   "Then help me help her. So we can all get each other to safety." he pleaded. "If you really aren't a coward, you won't leave her behind."

   I looked at Rey, still unconscious in the snow. She needs both our help. Don't abandon them again. Don't abandon Kiera and Delmi.

   "Ok." I said, still shaking. I knelt down next to him. "What do we do?"

   Finn searched his mind for a plan. "Chewie should be getting help... we just need to keep- "

   He was cut off mid sentence by a stone colliding with his head. He was knocked back into the snow, right next to Rey.

   "FINN!" I cried, dropping next to him. There was a small trail of blood running down from his forehead, although not too much; he was just unconscious, but that wasn't good either. I scanned the woods around us, searching for Kylo Ren. Strangely, the trees were the only things surrounding the area. He was nowhere in sight.

   "What the hell?" I whispered, still in shock. I looked at the stone on the ground, just a few feet from me. It was smooth and glossy - too artificial to have been lying around in the woods. So where did it come from? And further, stones didn't just fly around for no good reason. It was Kylo Ren, it had to be.

   I shook my head, clearing the panic from my mind. I had time to get Rey and Finn to safety. And right now, that mattered more than myself.

   I quickly spotted two fallen trees, one leaning against another. It made a small shelter against the wind, and anyone who may have been coming from behind us. I scooped up Rey into my arms and carried her behind the trees. She was lighter than I had expected, and barely made a dent in the snow. Finn, on the other hand... I resorted to dragging him by his arms, and struggled to throw him over the two trunks. He landed heavily on his side, his head resting in the snow.

   Come here.

   A chill ran down my spine. It was him. The voice was calm and gentle, but it was him. Fear quickly flooded my veins and my heart pounded. How long has he been here?

   Trust me.

   "Don't you fucking dare..." I whispered, anger building in my chest. "Don't you dare think that after everything you did- "

   I kept you alive. I spared you. I gave you a chance no one else had. You should be thanking me.

   I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew he was lying, it was obvious now. Yet there was still a part of me, an innocent, gullible part, that thought he was right. And I couldn't drown out that thought.

   You're tired. You need to rest.

   "No!" I shouted, sinking to the ground. I buried my head in my knees and held my ears shut, trying to block out any thought, any lingering of him.

   I know you.

   "You don't know shit about me!!"

   Come here.

   His voice resonated throughout my head. I couldn't hear the wind anymore, I couldn't hear my own heartbeat... it was just those two words, over and over again, beckoning me to move towards Kylo Ren.  

   "STOP IT!!" I screamed. "Get out of my head!! Just get out!!"

   Come here.

   "No!" I shouted again. "I won't! Stay away from me, stay out of my head!!" I clawed at my head in attempt to distract myself from his words. They were oddly alluring to me. Instead of them being angry and violent, they were gentle. Almost as if he was cooing at me. I knew it was all a trick, but my mind was used to the softness of his voice. I was so tired, so weak, and so desperate, and the sound of his words were so enticing.

   Snap out of it!! I thought to myself. Whether the words were kind or not, this was Kylo Ren; the man who manipulated everyone and lied about everything. I shouldn't have been interested in anything that had to do with him. Yet, even as I mentally screamed at my weak will, I continued to feel the want to get up and go to him.

   Eventually, I couldn't resist the urge.

   "I'm not crazy..." I mumbled, pushing myself off of the ground and making my way to him. I didn't know why, but I didn't bother to question it.

   He was standing in front of me - where he came from, I had no idea. Upon seeing me, he removed his helmet and dropped it in the snow. His lightsaber was ready at hand, glowing menacingly against the white of the forest surrounding us. His expression was calm, though I could see a hint of anger and frustration in his eyes. I stopped a few feet away and stared at him.

   "I'm not insane." I repeated - like a broken record.

   "Do you actually think that?" he spat, his voice shaking in anger. "Can you even think for yourself anymore, after what I've done to you?"

   What does that even mean? I thought, and Kylo Ren heard me.

   "Would you believe me if I had told you that you haven't acted of your own free will since the day you got here?"

   I didn't answer. I couldn't answer, I couldn't even make any facial expression to show my pain. But the inside of my head was screaming with agony, at his words and at his hold on my mind.

   "Keeping you in that cell," he continued, "that was just the beginning of breaking you down. I knew your will was too strong to succumb to physical pain, and may have only gotten stronger through the torture. So I waited - it wasn't easy, and you know I'm not a man of patience. But I could see that leaving you alone in that cell was destroying your sanity. You became desperate for any sort of comfort or consolation, that it didn't matter from whom it came. Naturally, I took the opportunity, right when you had told me you had given up. You were at your weakest point, and I was able to control your emotions without you ever knowing it. I made you feel safe, at ease... and because your will was so broken, so defeated... it was simple, almost too easy, to make you think and do what I wanted. I could make you believe anything, trust anything, feel anything, all with a small thought of my own."

   "If you could do all that," I said, trembling, "...if I was so broken, then why did you drag it out so long? Why didn't you just get the information you wanted and kill me?"

   He didn't answer right away, as he calculated his answer. "Simple boredom." he replied. "Which was my mistake, of course. There's nothing to do on this base besides giving and taking orders. When I realized that I had created such a puppet out of you, I decided to have fun with it. Although I believe this attack could have been long avoided had I just retrieved the location of the base and disposed of you."

   My brain was hazy under his trance. Each word he spoke made me think of when I had trusted him, when I had felt comfortable around him. But the memories were sour now, and tainted with the realization that it was all a game. "You..." I began as I glared into his eyes, to which he seemed intimidated. "You are nothing but weak, and you know it."

   "Quiet!!" he cried, bringing his lightsaber up to my neck with a menacing expression. "You've been lied to since the moment you got here! You can't possibly know what I am!!"

   "I saw what you were moments ago!" I shouted back at him, ignoring the lightsaber at my neck. "You're a monster, and a murderer! But more than that, you're the rotten bastard, a disgraceful, son-of-a-bitch- "

   "I SAID QUIET!!" he growled.

   "- lazy and immature coward!!"

   "ENOUGH!!" Kylo Ren drew back his lightsaber and slashed it across my torso. I collapsed against the tree behind me, though he used the force to keep me standing up. I seethed and bit my tongue as I stared at the new mark on my stomach; it didn't cut through me, but it left a long stripe, stretching from one side to the other.

   I looked back at him. "Just kill me!!" I screamed angrily. "You've stated your intentions, and you've shown me how I'm not a piece in this game anymore - so just kill me for god's sake!!"

   Kylo Ren clenched his jaw, still fuming. "You're not going to bother asking why I'm explaining all of this to you?!"

   "I couldn't give a fuck about you or what you have to say!"

   He ignored me. "I'm telling you this now because, well... because I couldn't tell anyone else what I was doing to you. I've kept our secret for months, lest anyone find out the fact that I was just having fun. And as you should know, any type of isolation - whether it be keeping a secret, or not being able to speak to anyone but my own conscious - it's a wretched feeling. So, that is why I am explaining my plan to you. It doesn't matter if you know, since I'm going to kill you."

   But-

   "But what?" he sneered. "Did you really think I felt affection towards you? Did you honestly think I was telling the truth?" he spat the word out, as if it had tasted sour. "I must have been doing a very good job of it, then, since even now, you still believe I had feelings for you. That, or you must be terribly dense." he walked to my side, disappearing from my vision. "Think to yourself - why would I ever admire you? Why would I be so infatuated with such an insignificant person? You mean nothing to me, and you never have. Nor will you ever."

   He allowed me to speak, only to answer him. "You said that I entranced you. That you were intrigued by my resilience to the force. You said - you said you loved me." I felt stupid and ashamed repeating his words - they were obviously lies. It was so damn clear now, it made me want to vomit. And I had been so blind to believe that they were true. It was sickening to know that I had ever accepted them to be real. It made me realize how weak I was, how gullible I had been.

   "Not all of that is a lie." He stated, as I got back up on my feet. "I was interested in you. You had the strongest willpower of the pilots in your squadron. Possibly, of all the pilots I have come across. I was confused in how you were able to remain reserved under the force. But I never loved you." he chuckled to himself. "It's funny to think that you believed me when I said that. All it took were a few lies, and I was able to control you, little by little."

   He sighed, turning to look me in the eyes. "It is, however, disheartening, to think that all this work I put into you still resulted in nothing. I had hoped that in a few weeks you would have revealed the location of the Resistance Base, but then they had to come and initiate an attack. I wasn't able to fight them off and keep you under my control. Even the most experienced Jedi can't control that much at once."

   Anger welled up in my chest, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch, scratch, kick, do whatever I could to injure Kylo. However, the restraint holding me back from hurting him only fueled my anger, which led to tears falling down my cheeks. Everything he was saying was so painful, but now that I knew, I wasn't shocked by any of it. It was something I had expected from so wicked a person, yet every second of listening to him speak was torture.

   "You think this, right now, is torture." he said. "But wait until I finally kill you."

   This caught me off guard; I chuckled to myself a bit. "You know what? I've been waiting for it for weeks." I said with a sneer. I knew he hated that, and I didn't care. For the first time in a long time, I felt liberated. Kylo Ren was about to kill me. I was going to die - death was right in front of me, shrouded in black and angry that I had managed to escape his grasp more than once. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't giving up, either... I just felt at peace.

   But of course, he wasn't going to let me have that. "I will thoroughly enjoy this, my dear."

   As he said this, he pushed the cross hair of his lightsaber into my abdomen. A fierce heat flowed violently from the lightsaber and into the rest of my body, and my muscles twitched and seized instinctively from the wound. Even though I was still under his grasp on my mind, I stuttered and shook in pain. Tears began to fall harder, and I could feel the lightsaber cauterizing as quickly as it tore through my skin.. It was warm, but it only made the pain worse as time went on. My breath was heavy and cold, and my heartbeat had quickened drastically. I felt the pain; I knew it was pain, and it made me want to scream and writhe in agony. But all I could do was stand there and stare Kylo in the eyes, until he either released my mind from his grip, or finally killed me. And I was sure it would be the latter.

   Fear

   But I wasn't afraid.

   Father. Han Solo.

   These images and thoughts in my mind weren't my own...

   Pain

   These were his thoughts. Kylo Ren's thoughts. Why could I hear them? Why were they so loud in my head?

   I can't do this.

   I looked at him in the eyes. Does he know I can hear him? I thought. The pain from the lightsaber subsided as I continued to listen to his thoughts.

   Suddenly, I noticed his expression change; he seemed angry, as if I had insulted him. His eyes widened, and leaned in closer to my face. "You will not break me!!" he spat.

   The next words that slipped from my mouth... I'm not sure where they came from. I can't even say that they were my own.

   "I won't be the one to break you, Ben."

   Upon hearing me speak, he wrapped his hand around my throat and began to choke me. The lack of oxygen was excruciating, however, I continued to be numb to the pain.

   "What did you say?" he growled.

   I struggled against his grip, trying to pry away his fingers with my own. I attempted to answer him, but his hand only tightened around my neck with each gasp.

   Suddenly, a blue light raced past my head. Kylo was forcefully knocked to the ground, tearing his lightsaber away from my side. I could feel the force being pulled from my head, and almost instantly, pain replaced it. I fell backwards into the snow, screaming in anguish from the pain in my abdomen. My muscles convulsed involuntarily, my head seared with pain - it was all so much at once. Only moments before, Kylo was holding me back from reacting to the wound, and now that he was gone, all I could feel was the searing heat in my side..

   I weakly pushed myself up against a tree, trying to cover the wound with my hands. The blood was almost invisible on my dark clothing, but I could see the snow beneath me becoming redder and larger. My head was swimming with dizziness and I began to see spots. I could faintly hear the sound of lightsabers clashing together, and Kylo's distant shouts.

[alkhale]

Omg omg can one of the causes of fights between mini shanks n mini mihawks be bcs Hoku doesn't call him "Brat" ????

(First scene Mihawk is fifteen, next scene is 16 along with Shanks, best reference is the young Mihawk Oda drew but I found a slightly older version someone made, it’s colored by a deviantart user but I don’t know who the original artist is so credits to them!)

When fifteen-year-old Mihawk finally woke up, wild, ink black hair pushed back over his headit was to something soft and warm beneath his head and the flash, secondary instinct to grab his sword at his side, as though the hilt and his palm were connected entirely.

And then a soft laugh hit his ears.

A simple click and the memories returned, easy and a bit bitter to swallow, but he was not a fool and he was not an idiot. 

Dracule Mihawk, on a quest to become the strongest swordsman alive, had challenged the current reigning king of said title, and lost. Quickly, decisively and fairly. There was nothing more to dwell on the matter aside from his own lack of discipline, of training, and of certain skill.

Though such an action very much might have warranted losing his life, he was not dead.

Mihawk half turned to the woman who was waiting behind him, kneeling with a warm grin playing on her lips that allowed a thin glint of white from a canine of hers to peek out.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” Hoku said, “I’m never sure how to handle types like yours.”

Mihawk remained silent for a moment, dropping his eyes down to his hands. He considered their scabbed, rough feel hidden behind now clean white bandages. He touched his chest where he was no longer bleeding, tight white bandages wrapping neatly around him along with nothing but a bruise along the side of his face where the legendary Wado Ichimonji had decked him sideways and knocked him into the ocean without mercy.

“I did not ask to be treated,” Mihawk said calmly.

Hoku looked even more amused now, eyes a little half-lidded when she looked at him. Her heavy, sturdy coat hung over her shoulders but was pushed back to reveal the warm tan of steady arms–hands that knew work. He could clearly see the outline of her own blade–a notable, ungraded and legendary short sword by the name of Mau who earned its reputation far and wide.

This woman, Mihawk knew. He did not concern himself with the particulars of the legendary Straw Hat crew aside from their captain, Zoro, whom he longed to beat, and this woman, Hoku, since she was the only other crew member to carry a sword.

“I know,” Hoku said. Mihawk realized she had moved his head to her lap while he was unconscious. “I only did your hands, by the way. Chopper did the rest.”

Mihawk continued to stare at her.

“He thinks you have potential,” Hoku said simply. “You trim buds, but you don’t kill them off before they can bloom, do you?”

He understood now why he made it out with his life.

“You fight with that blade,” Mihawk said, though he posed it as a question. Hoku seemed to be considering whether or not he was worthy of an answer and he took no offense to this. He did not know of this woman’s skill, but he knew it existed. She had earned her rank and place. Her sword spoke to that.

“Not as much anymore,” Hoku said instead. “The two of us are a bit retired now and I definitely don’t take challenges like that monster. I’m more of an artist at heart.”

Mihawk had heard about that too. “But you craft.”

There was something pleased in her expression by his knowledge of this, though a touch wary. It made Mihawk a bit more interested himself. He turned, on his knees as he faced her with his hands on his lap.

“Yes,” Hoku said, a little warm. “I do.”

She tilted her head to the side for a moment, as though listening. “That’s a good sword. It kept you safe for now. It’ll do what it can to bring you as far as it can go.”

Mihawk touched his hilt and then looked at Hoku.He stared at her for a moment longer than he would have liked and then stood. Hoku blinked, curious as he remained standing before he promptly bowed to her.

“Thank you.”

And then Mihawk turned, a young man and his sword, and left.

Hoku watched him until he disappeared, a small, fond little huff escaping her lips.

“Told you there’s no point in talking to him,” a lazy voice called above her. Hoku didn’t even look, shrugging helplessly as heavy feet came to rest behind her. “Not much of a chatterbox.”

“Neither are you,” Hoku said. She rubbed the back of her neck, “Dunno. I just feel like you won’t see people like him often. He’s a bit cute. Like a stray, maybe?”

“You called that golden axe the other day cute too,” Zoro snorted. Hoku leaned back against his legs, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms high as she relaxed. “Might have to give him a scar to remember next time.”

“Ah, you’re soft on him,” Hoku said. “You like him.”

“Brat’s gonna come for my head next time.”

“I dunno, can’t you guys trade titles in the future without chopping each other’s heads off?”

Zoro set a hand down on her head. His fingers splayed out and Hoku turned to look up at him.

“That eager for me to kick the bucket?”

“Oh, please,” Hoku mused, tipping her head into Zoro’s hand. Her humored her, leaving it there for now and curving his fingers below her chin. “I don’t plan on letting anyone take your head anytime soon.”

Hoku made a face. “I’m speaking for Luffy, not for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, get off your lazy ass. I need a coating.”

“I’ll charge you one day for all you owe me. Nami’s keeping track.”

- - - -

Shanks really was lucky.

He had felt good about this beach the moment his crew set anchor on the other side of the harbor. He and Buggy were racing to see who could find the biggest and best catch and bring it back to the ship by dawn–

And truly, this was without a doubt, the best catch.

He knew it was her in an instant. It’d been a little while and he’d only caught glimpses of her in the newspapers, her captain making headline after headline as the marines raced after him. But that moon-white hair, the slope of her shoulders hidden by a cloak and–

She was just sitting there, where the grass of the forest met the sand, her back to everything else as she seemed to watch the ocean a safe distance away. Shanks thought he must be dreaming at first or perhaps this island had a secret mirage.

But he caught sight of their ship, her ship. A legendary ship anchored several leagues away and knew–

It was fate.

Something curled in the pit of his stomach. His heart pumped blood fast and hot through his body, fueling liquid courage all the way down to his fingertips. He was a year older now. He was less lank more muscle. He was taller too, maybe even taller than her now, he’d like to think, though he never minded a tall woman, he fancied the idea of cupping his hand under that curved chin and raising it to his–

Shanks’ eyes landed on a heavy bough of flowers beside him. Pretty, bright red things. A smaller branch of silver flowers grew below it. He considered them both, teetered dangerously and cursed under his breath, snapping the branch of soft silver flowers clean. 

He had to ease into this sort of thing after all. Coax her sweet so she wouldn’t slip off, make her a bit interested enough to stay.

Shanks ran a hand through his bright red hair and walked forward, lightly swinging the branch.

When he was only a little ways away, she seemed to finally register his approaching presence, as though he were a deer who’d broken away from a herd of things. She still faced away from him, tilting her head to the side as though listening curiously before she started to turn.

Shanks stopped as close as he dared for now, a few steps from her–and he kept in mind to treat kindly the fact that she let him get this close and that gave him hope–he dipped the branch low.

Those ocean eyes blinked, slow and curious, round at the bundle of flowers presented before her before looking up.

“I didn’t think there was treasure on this island,” Shanks said with a bright, sunny grin. “But it looks like I found some.”

“Brat,” Hoku said, pleasantly surprised. He withheld a wince at the name. “Huh, I guess Robin was right. This island is getting a little more popular now…”

“I think it was fate,” Shanks said. He shook the branch. Petals fell, dappling her hair and she looked up, amused at his antics. “Did you miss me?”

“I hardly thought about you at all,” Hoku said, a small smile on her lips. Shanks inched a step closer. “I thought we wouldn’t meet for ten more years.”

“I don’t think my heart could take such a thing,” Shanks crouched on the sand beside her. Hoku looked amused, watching him with vague curiosity. Her hair was a little longer and he’d fight to run his hands through it once.

“Too long for–” Shanks’ eyes dropped down and he stopped. He blinked, once, twice, and then a third time for good measure.

There, stretched out in the sand before her, was a youthful face. A face not much older than his own. A hardened face who Shanks recognized from the waves he was making. A face that was currently attached to a head that was very much resting on the soft and supple skin of Hoku’s thighs, fast asleep and–

Dracule Mihawk was sleeping on Hoku’s lap.

Shanks stared.

“Oh,” Hoku said, following his eyes. “He’s another rookie like you. Maybe you two have heard of each other–”

Shanks stared at Hoku as though she’d driven a knife right through his heart. His eyes went soft, staring at her in his best, most charming sense of a puppy-dog face. Hoku stared at him with round eyes, blinking. “What’s that look for? All I said was–”

As though summoned, Mihawks’ eyes finally slid open. Shanks gaped at him. Hoku looked down. The young swordsman seemed to consider several things for a moment before promptly he sat up–to Shanks’ relief–and turned to Hoku.

“He developed an even stronger technique,” Mihawk said.

“Oh, you noticed,” Hoku grinned. “He never stops advancing, you know. You’ll have to run to even get close to catching up.”

Mihawk’s golden eyes flickered before he nodded. He moved, standing up and Hoku let her hands fall into her lap. Shanks continued to gape.

“What’s the matter with you?” Soft fingers tapped the side of his face and Shanks’ head jerked to the side. His cheek connected with Hoku’s warm palm, ocean eyes curious as she watched him. “You seemed confident as a lion just a moment ago–”

“I wasn’t aware you two were acquainted,” Shanks said, a wide, quick grin curling on his lips. He flashed Mihawk a sharp look who simply stared blankly back at him in return. Hoku moved to pull her hand away and Shanks quickly reached up, cupping his hand over hers.

Hoku arched a brow.

“Lovely dove,” Shanks said, voice a little low, eyes a little pleading, expression soft. His fingers moved lightly over the back of her hand in a way he hoped was distracting. “What do I have to do to be spoiled like that?”

Hoku blinked. She seemed confused by his question for a moment before something must have clicked and then she laughed. Shanks’ eyes went half lidded at the sound and Mihawk raised a brow at the redhead’s expression.

“Challenge the greatest swordsman alive,” Hoku said, eyes a little wild. “And we’ll see what happens.”

Maybe I should play a little sick next time. Shanks wondered. I wouldn’t mind being spoiled like that–

“And you should really just let me coat your sword for you,” Hoku said, ignoring Shanks and pulling her hand away. He pouted at the loss and Hoku faced a calm Mihawk. “I promise it’ll help–”

“I’m not good enough to have you coat for me,” Mihawk said simply. “Not yet.”

Shanks huffed, “Dove, I’d gladly let you do anything to or for me–”

Shanks stopped.

He was fairly certain his heart might’ve too.

Red, soft, flush red colored her cheeks. Hoku’s eyes were a little wide, almost soft at Mihawk’s words. She looked hopelessly embarrassed, flushing in pride at the praise as she reached up and placed a hand over her face as though to hide the entire view, crumpling a bit.

“You can’t just going saying things like that,” Hoku said, sheepish and soft. “Really now–”

Shanks wanted that face engraved to memory. He wanted that face to be made because of him. He wanted it under his fingertips. He wanted it, begged for it beside him. He wanted to see it color darker, a little more flushed, eyes soft on him and his hands running low and pushing, playing, trying to see how much more he could–

Shanks paused. Maybe this time Buggy was right and a little bit of that passion was bleeding a bit toward somewhere else.

“HOOOKKKKKUUUUUU!” Shanks and Mihawk froze, the loud, resounding voice boomed across mountains, echoing blaringly clear. “WHEEEEEERREEE ARRREEEE YOOOUUUU?”

They both looked to each other, realization coloring their faces as to who the voice belonged to and–

Without another word, Hoku stood. Her head turned toward the sound of her name, at her call, eyes warm, the expression on her face–

Something Shanks wasn’t sure he knew how he ought to feel about. It reminded him of her moment with Zoro. A simple call of her name and yet–

Something too far for him to ever grasp. Something that shouldn’t be touched. Something he couldn’t touch.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again, brat,” Hoku grinned at Shanks, holding a silver flower up. Shanks blinked in realization. “Thanks for the flowers.”

Turning to Mihawk she added over her shoulder, “Rest up. See you again, Mihawk.”

She beamed at the two of them and promptly set off, never once looking back as she followed the continued calls of her name, hurrying maybe just a bit.

…

…

…

“Alright, spill it you sly dog. What did you do and what did you say to get her to treat you like that?” Shanks nearly pulled tufts of red out. “You were in her lap! Her lap, you dog! And that face–do you understand how cute she is?”

Mihawk stared at him as one would a bug.

“Who are you?”

- they’ll all meet again

[charmergirl2468]

Past Life AU! Part 3

Golden Deer

Claude

This boi is still biracial because screw you he’s a handsome poc

He will 100% start talking in Almyrian just to piss people off. Ex: “Claude, could pass me the paper?” “Repap? Taht s’tahw?” “Just get me the fucking paper, you dick!”

Grew up with a lot of kids going through Babies First Racism with him but he had Hilda so it’s all good

He’s actually really fucking good at chemistry and no one has any idea why. If you tried asking him, he’d just say it came naturally.

He set up a chemistry club but he just uses it as an excuse to hang out with his other deer friends.

Nobody says shit about it since A) Claude can actually do chemistry so the validity of the club can’t be questioned and B) there’s a 95% chance he’ll just mix together a stink bomb again if someone challenges him

He’ll try to play off getting back his memories as no big deal, but he’s internally freaking out about 15 times over and has no idea how to sceme his way out of this

Marianne

At school, she’s your average wall flower that nobody really knows. Except the other deer but other than that she’s a total mystery

… then she gets home and logs into COD and goes fucking apeshit.

She’s the Legend27 of this AU’s COD and she scares everyone online.

That’s because, as a way to cope with stress and anxiety, she goes feral on video games.

She still follows Sothism. Not in the incel way obviously, but to where it can help her in her weakest state.

She’s still contemplated suicide but she’s got a good support in addition to a therapist so while she still gets that though at her darkest , she’s able to handle it.

Marrie fucking breaks down after she get to the Crest of the Beast part of her memories. All those feelings of dejection and self loathing come back to her and she almost can’t handle it. Raph finds her in time though and help her

Raphael

Boy is a gym junkie. He goes whenever he has free time between going to school and working at a local cafe

He’ll enter competitions for weightlifting and stuff but his ultimate goal is to get on a Fodlan version of “American Ninja Worrior” and win

He is the big brother friend. Need a ride home cause you’re drunk? Fuck the car, he’ll carry you home like a sack of potatoes. Just because he’s a sweet boi does not mean he’s gentle XD

He’s honestly pretty chill about his past life. Sure seeing war in first person is scary, but it’s in the past so why worry about it?

Answer: you should worry about it when it full out causes your friend a severe panic attack

Hilda

Crouching moron, hidden badass. It’s hereditary at this point.

Anyone who tries to deride her for being girly or lazy, that mother fucker ends up flat on their back within a second. They have no idea what happened.

Shes been Claudes best friend since they were tator tots. Stuck by him for everything from bullying to boring parties

That’s not to say they won’t talk shit. Rather, they do nothing but talk shit about each other. It’s how they’re platonic affection manifested and they’re sticking to it!

She feels frustrated at her past self since with modern her it’s understandable to nope out of stuff. You can’t Nope out of a war!

Lysethia

Child prodigy. Full stop. She’s in college and she’s fucking fifteen

She goes through what all Gifted Kids go through and has issues with being social since she build her Identity around being a prodigy.

Claude treats her like a kid mostly because he knows how fucked up it is to loose your formative years to something so arbitrary. He just wants her to act her age and not worry about pleasing adults.

She low key was raised in Fodlan-Mormonism so that also helped fuck her up some. She got the hell out of there on her own when she put 2 and 2 together but she had to leave her siblings behind. She hopes they’re doing ok

Oh, she looses every last crumb of her shit when everything that Those Who Slither in the Dark did. to her past self. There’s tears and snot and anger and a whole flurry of emotions she can’t articulate because of previously mentioned Gifted Child Bullshit.

She first confides in Hilda about it and from there Hilda makes sure the babu has a good support system for dealing with that shit. No deer left behind! Not even our little Fawn

Ignatz

He’s in an animation school trying to get better at his craft.

He does DeviantArt commissions so he can pay for rent when he can. Plus he finds it to be good practice for a future career in animation

He dreams of open up his own independent animation studio and he’s a little over a fourth of the way there! He’s done freelance work animating and, as uncomfortable as it made him, got experience leading a team of animators on a project

He’s dream project, however, is being able to animate one of Bernie’s stories and have Ashe be the voice of a lead character. FuckyouIlovethebowbrigade

He gets a little fucked up over the flashbacks of war and death, mostly because he’s a gentle soul. But Big Bro Raph has him covered

Lorenz

Boy has a superiority complex the size of Fodlan itself.

He also tries to act like a noble man of yore but it’s more to cover up the fact his confidence is a fragile as tissue paper thin glass

He tries to hit on girls and acts like one of those “nice guys” a bit but Hilda’s got a good leash on him most of the time

He’s trying so hard to be an Instagram influencer but he’s as unpleasant online as he is offline so he doesn’t really have any followers outside of bots

His past life makes him really take a step back on his behavior and think “ok Sothis, I’m just a incel in a fancy hat!” And adjusts his personality away from that

Leonie

She’s… actually a very stuck in the closet trans man.

He doesn’t know despite a lot of signs like wanting to keep his hair short, wanting to be just like Jeralt, feeling way more comfortable in men’s clothes then women’s, getting little pockets of euphoria when someone uses male pronouns for him, etc. etc.

He does eventually become friends- er, acquaintances with Felix and that what it takes for him to put two and two together. After that, he started transistioning in every comfortable imaginable

His new name is Leo and everyone loves and supports him!

The memories of his past life gives him a bit of gender dysphoria, especially after the timeskip, but seeing as his ancestor was a badass with an Axe definitely feels validating

There’s the three main houses down! Other parts after this will be for the remaining characters and maybe a worldbuild post to explain this modern version of Fodlan

[empressxmachina]

Patients Zero - iii. by Imperial-Radiance

~Also on Wattpad~

*gasp* *cough*

Oh, good god. What? I thought I was— But, how am I—? Didn’t I get—? Wait, where am I?

Hard: I’m on something hard. Hard, flat, slick, and cold. My back hates this. I’m guessing it’s a floor. But I feel grooves, not just one that takes up my entire hand. It almost feels… made for me. Impossible. My eyes; they’re closed. It’s dark, behind and in front of the lids. Yet, there’s a glow: a… soft one? Not the blinding white from before? It’s cool, still, but not as much somehow. I wait for a voice to give me any sort of insight of where I am, and all I get back is just the gentle hum of a… a… Wait, is that a fan? No, is that a heater? Even on the hottest days outside in the real world – real because this is a fantasy, still, especially if I’m alive – it never went past room temperature. I… I’m boiling like I’m stuck in an oven.

Oh, my god. Am I being cooked in here? No, screw that. I’ll accept going out in plenty of ways in this diminutive state, but I will not go out as someone’s di—!

Well, this is… new? I finally lift my back up and open my eyes, and I’ve found myself lost… and in pain. Holy crap! Everything hurts! Ugh. But that’s the least of my worries. I’m alive, somehow, for some reason. But, why, and why here, wherever here is?

Am I crazy? This sure looks like a living room: not very different from my one at home. There’s a sofa, a table, and works of art that admittedly caught my vision immediately. I’ve liked to think that I’m not a leech for moving media, so not seeing a television or the like here is pleasing. There are dimly lit LEDs as large as me, a rug across the ground over there as large as me, and an actual fan even larger than me. Sure, it nearly takes up a whole wall like a fireplace would, but the latter would be unconventional. It’s blowing out heat, so it must switch between hot and cold. The only thing missing is a collection of literature of varying genres, but I doubt printing that small is even possible. Besides that, it’s like it was made for me.

But that’s just it. That’s fucking weird. It’s made for me, and how small am I now?

I must be going insane. This can’t be real. This room can’t possibly be mine—Oh. Oh shit.

That’s a kitchen over there behind me. A real kitchen – well, as real as it can be with its counters and cabinets. But it’s the actual cooking stuff that made it real: the primitive tools in the corner for refrigeration and cooking – some solar funnel/pot thing, I think – and the bruised yet familiar food scraps from my past life stacked in a triad of pyramids next to them. Wait, past life? I say that like it’s been forever since I was… ambushed… by someone big enough to make a place like this if they’re careful.

I’ve got to get out of here. But what is here? First things first, I should probably get my ass off the floor: this uncomfortably perfectly-sized floor.

O-Okay. Up and at it. The floor isn’t an ocean anymore. Appliances don’t have as much of a chance of killing me now. If I go this way, then I can sit at this table right here and contemplate all the dumb stuff I did to get here… wherever here is, not to mention there are enough chairs to fit a whole family or a group of housemates. Housemates. AmI alone here? Why am I here? Why do I keep asking myself these questions rather than just looking for the answer?

I’m irrational. This is irrational, but I must make the most of it. No, screw it, do I even have a choice? Well, with all these grabbable, sharp things around, I guess the answer’s technically a ‘yes.’ But. I’m not that depressed. I’m not. Not *sigh* that depressed. I’ve fought this long for others’ lives before and my own at this level, so why stop now? It’s not like I’m not used to being like this. It’s just this current situation that’s new… and heaven knows how much I love surprises… and rambling. Where was I? Oh, right.

If I go that way, now, then I can go to a surprise upstairs with who-knows-what… or who-knows-who. Would they really bunk me with someone else? I wasn’t one for strangers at full size, so how would they think I’d manage one on this scale!? They’re the ones that are short-sighted, not me. Ugh, I can’t wait to deal with that possibility. Though, maybe I don’t have to.

There’s the door. Huh.

I know I just got out of some stasis a moment ago, but it only just occurred to me that all the windows are covered and presumably closed. There seems to be no light peeking out of anywhere, either, so either it’s still nighttime, or I’m enclosed somewhere cut off from the world. No, the latter’s always going to be true here, now that I think about it. I don’t know where here is, but I do know it sure isn’t out there. There’s no use in not verifying it, though.

I guess that I shouldn’t be surprised how what should be a small door doesn’t have a lock. Yet, it has a hinge – two of them? Okay. Am I too dumb for not checking the windows? No, just crazy, but I knew that already. What’s crazier, though, is how I’m simultaneously right and wrong upon opening this door.

This is a small house, and this sure doesn’t look like a lab, a ward, and especially not that basement. To be honest, I kind of expected there to be grass or an equivalent on the ground here. Ground. I say that like this place containing me isn’t on a freaking table right now. Well, to be fair, they brought in real grass, plants, and stuff for the diorama dwellings, so I guess it’s not that weird. But those were for hundreds if not thousands of people on several stations. This is just me… and a house for me… on a table.

A table in what looks like a… a bedroom? I mean, I think I can make out the mountainous shapes of a bed, nightstands sandwiching it, and I think a dresser across from them, but it’s freaking dark in here. I’m surprised I can see that far away. Those LEDs boxed in my walls shouldn’t be able to reach that far, even if their brightness was somehow magnified through the cracks between windows and the door, yet here they are. Despite that, there’s no denying I’m in some resting place for some giant somewhere. Somewhere.

I could be freaking anywhere, but where?

I do know one thing: it’s damn fine that I don’t have a fear of heights. That helped me back there with the commons, so it’ll help me here, too. But, god, damn it, that drop is large. I bet it was intentional, along with my placement here. With the back edge cut off by the wall and the front sharply opening to this no man’s land of a room, I don’t have many options of escape.

I hear a heater running like a radiator under a window on one side of this table, and I’d rather not get burnt to cinders today. I could test my luck descending the curtains, but I don’t think I’m in proper form to climb or slide down. The opposite side is blocked by a chair in the corner. Falling onto a cushion might not be a bad idea. Maybe there’s a vent I can get through behind there. Hmm.

Screw it. I’d rather risk seeing my maker than wait for them to come to me. Chair, it is. It seems like the only way to go. But, should I take a leap of faith or weigh my options? Eh, watch with my luck, and this room’s patron comes back in and throws something atop of me – maybe even themselves. A smudge on somebody’s ass: that’s not legacy worthy. At least if I’m up here for some time, then I can probably make it back in the house and use it for even a smidgen of protection.

Hopefully.

Huh. Should I be bothered by how my steps aren’t clicking across this surface? I mean, they never did in the basement, but there were plenty of people around causing noise and whatever. Here, I’m alone… at least for now. That should be calming, shouldn’t it? Alas, as I continue forward, the curve of what-now-looks-like-an-accent-chair crests over the horizon and—

Oh, curse me.

So, I was right in being worried about possibly being suffocated to no end in colossal clothing. But, of all of them, did it have to be scrubs? I’m no color aficionado, but I do think that’s how that health-centric blue is supposed to look in this lighting—er, lack of light, I should say. Of course, they’re not just any scrubs, either. Any sensible physician would know to discard of their scrubs in at least a hamper to be washed after use or just use a new pair. These look like cast-offs like mad.

I’d put money down on them being his. That monster brought me here, didn’t here? Then, me being here would make sense: I’m where he lives or, at least, stays so he can watch me like some project.

Looking back at this rather extravagant house for a subspecies like me, who knows how much other preparation has been done since he acquired me? Is he why I’m hurt like this? Speaking of hurt, wasn’t I beeping before, and that led to all of this? It’s stopped now, and so was I, but is replacing it with pain much better? If I run away, then how do I know that the beeping won’t restart and lead to an even greater demise?

I’m curious, though, considering he could’ve ended me earlier while I was presumably incapacitated if that were his goal. But what if he may have plans for me, instead? What if he’s planning for me to run away, and that’s why he’s away, probably watching from afar? The basement had cameras whether they wanted us to know they were there or not, and I bet there’s some in here, too, with night vision, thermals, and all that other fancy gobbledygook. Ugh, it’s dark and distant in here, but damn it, I’m going to find one if it’s the last thing I—

Are you kidding me?

Do not tell me that’s been him this whole time. Him, and he’s that? Well, that’s poetic as hell, isn’t it? He was going to take me out beforeall this crap started. Now, he’s going to do me in here, instead, screwing me sideways and 1-upping me even more so.

In my visual pursuits of a camera, the last thing I expected to find was an I.D. To surprise me even more, I recognized the face on it. I remember my first time seeing it.

I was on a lunch break, just reading in my journals about Match Day – how it had been the largest amounts of matches in history or whatever – and then Doc Adams suddenly broke the fun and excitement, coming in with a list of our future interns. One of them was him. If it had been just a few years prior, then I would’ve been excited. After all, there’s nothing wrong with more doctors, right? But, Adams, the louse, has… had been trying to get me out of the doctoring game since.

It’s because he knows that I’d be better at his job than him, and the supervisors at the system H.Q. have been telling us both this. I can’t help that I love – loved– helping people directly so much to not replace it with a tedious desk job, even if it looks over pretty much everyone else in the hospital. Thus, his solution was to put more and more people in our ranks to dilute the focus away from me. It worked for a while until someone had a symptom that they didn’t know how to treat, but I did.

Despite my knowledge, this new guy was perfection, though, and from across the ocean, no less. I bet Adams creamed his pants at him on the list: this—What’s his name again? Oh, yeah: this ‘Mikul Merchant’ or whatever. I wonder how many bribes Adams had to make to get him. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The first day for the interns would’ve been months ago, and the kid and I are both here, apparently, with him ruining my life just as much if not more so than he would’ve been without this wretched disease.

Though, if he was already on this continent way before then, then he must’ve been excited, too. After all, I’m sure his home country has its own center like this where he could’ve been. Why was he here, and how in the world did he turn out to be a carrier, too?

Upon registration, everyone is given I.D.s, but rather than having the random number sequences and barcodes the others get until they’re rendered useless by dwindling heights to where they can’t carry the damn thing, carriers’ listings are just ‘zeroes’ with a Q.R. code. I’m positive that’s how that self-deprecating squad of bugs found me and put their emotions out on and into me. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one here, so why would they charge me rather than someone like him? Well, besides his youth, foreignness, and relative handsomeness that may correlate with them, unlike me, he’s a carrier of and might as well be immune to both strains.

Curse this minute minutia. Curse my imperfections. But, most importantly, screw this—!

*CLICK* God, no.

Before I can even blink, a beam of light blinds me, revealing the previously dark side of the room and thus allowing me to see that this isn’t just a bedroom but more like a hotel room. A vanity adjacent to a closed closet appears. It’s spanning across the wall opposite me, this table and chair, that house of mine, and the window. How I didn’t see the reflection of this house in the mirror beforehand is beside me. But, no other reflection aside from my own hasn’t yet come into view, which makes me wonder if this is genuinely that giant’s room.

I know I used to come across my team’s scrubs in my office on occasion, so who’s to say that a lead person isn’t just keeping subject/’Doctor’ Merchant’s clothing with them for testing or safekeeping? Though, I don’t think that just throwing them across a chair shows its direct importance or proper sanitation practices. Or, maybe there’s another type of experiment going on. Perhaps it’s just dealing with me and what I do in this new location? Either way, that doesn’t answer whose room this is or why—

Never mind. There, he is. I’m here with him. I should stop doubting myself. No, this is the one time I should challenge anything and everything I’ve ever known.

Emerging from what I assume is a bathroom, a lanky, lean embodiment of a supposed human comes through. Supposed. Humans aren’t meant to be that large. It’s almost godly – the glow of his mostly bare, solely-pants-wearing, towel-draping-necked form – but I’m not glorifying a monster, checking his face and onyx hair over the sink and counter like he hasn’t done anything wrong. His auburn skin with no marks in sight is so nourished like he’s been able to bathe sensibly and get proper sunlight. There’s not one eye bag or wrinkle like he’s never had a single stressor in his life: the pampered, pompous prick. I’d almost say he’s prettier in person, but beasts are never pretty.

If you’re here, then you should be under all the stresses. Yet, here you are, flouncing around almost naked like you aren’t contracted with and spreading disease! If that’s the case, then why the hell am I here, trapped with you—!?

You… You… You’ve got to be kidding me. I mean, it was only a matter of time, but… don’t fucking dare.

Before I can even comprehend it, his almond gaze snaps on me like a locked crosshair in a gun’s sight. I try freezing in place, but I’m sure the vanity lights are making my eyes glow like a beady animal’s, so it’s all in vain. Aside from that, I didn’t think he had even noticed me at first, but then he had squinted his eyes and cocked his head like an inquisitive dog trying to hear. Just to test my luck, he even acknowledges me… or whatever he thinks I am if he doesn’t know for sure for some reason,

“H-Huh?” He sounds so soft, almost… Nope, I’m not going to say that. There’s no way he actually cares. I… I’m nothing in comparison. He’s taken out souls larger and smaller than me, so what difference would I make? “Is something there?” See? ‘Something.’

I’m a thing now.

I almost thought he’d salivate for his new toy, treat, or whatever I am to him. He’s already been a predator in public upon thousands of eyes. How much craftier will he be, all alone? I’m not going to wait to find out. Even if that’s what he’s expecting me to do, I don’t care. It’s fight-or-flight, and the former is definitely out of the question.

“W-Wait!”

Like hell, I’m doing that.

[eregyrn-falls-art]

Everybody BUCKLE UP ‘cause I’m doin’ that Art Decade in review Thing

Also the heck with it, I cheated and for the last 4 years included 8 pieces instead of 4, because it’s my list and I can.

The upshot here is pretty simple.  From 2009-15, I was in an ElfQuest RP group and I did a ton of art for that.  Some of it I can even still stand to look at.  Its activity was severely waning by 2016, at which point I discovered Gravity Falls, and folks here know the rest (and can see it).

I guess I would say the primary change here is that in 2009 I was mostly doing art with traditional materials (pencil, pen and ink, Copic markers), with some assembly and effects in Photoshop, gradually experimenting with some digital art.  After starting up in GF fandom in 2016 I was gradually expanding that experimentation, though still drawing on paper and scanning things in, and working with a mouse. It wasn’t until early in 2019 that I got a tablet and started using that for digital stuff, and I’m still learning with that.  (This is aside, of course, from the ever-ongoing learning and improvement with subjects - figures and landscapes and action and so on; I sort of take that as-read.)

Annnnnd... a very few arts-and-crafts pieces (sculpture, needle-felt, etc.) are sprinkled in here and there.  Since I do that sometimes.

This was fun to do, because I was kind of dreading what the older stuff would look like, but surprised myself by not feeling too bad about it.  I even still like some stuff I did in my early GF phase (although it looks pretty rough to me).  When I kind of step back from it and squint... gosh, my affinity for certain saturated colors and themes (like landscapes) sure does stick out.  I am not subtle, am I?

I... don’t think I can handle providing links to every individual piece here.  So I’ll just say: most of the older stuff is in my deviantArt gallery, and almost all of the GF-related stuff is in my art-blog Archive page.

[red-the-dragon-writes]

the misadventures of Skironir and Rubin

crossposted from DeviantArt, written for an "ARPG" on there.

Skironir and Rubin are my ruukans, which are like weird deer moose elk... things. I don't know. They're currently on a quest to get a magical talisman of Gay(tm) from a volcano. Rubin is a directionally-challenged liar, and Skironir is, unfortunately, In Love With Him.

“And you’re sure you know where we’re going,” Skironir said.

“I wouldn’t say I was if I wasn’t,” Rubin snapped back. He was lying, incidentally. He had, like, a vague idea of where to go but… in this weather? In this visibility? The sky was choked with ash. Rubin didn’t even know where the sun was, let alone whether they were going north or south. But the last thing he needed was Skironir bugging him about it. “Why?”

“We’ve walked past that rock three times already,” Skironir said glumly.

“Which rock?”

“That one. The black one.” Skironir gestured towards a little outcropping of some kind of volcanic rock with his head.

“Uh,” said Rubin. “What if it’s just three rocks that kind of look similar?”

“It’s the same rock,” Skironir said. “Look, I told you we should’ve brought someone else along.”

“Who else? Who else would come? In case you hadn’t noticed, neither of us are really overflowing with friends.”

“Well, there’s always Rahh—”

“Friends who can find their way through massive clouds of dust, not friends who will help us steal anything that isn’t nailed down,” Rubin said dismissively.

“Hey, you never know. And besides, aren’t we trying to steal a token? An extra friend or two wouldn’t go amiss, really. This was kind of a mistake—”

“Would you shut up?” Rubin snapped. “I’m trying to figure out where we’re going.”

Skironir grumbled a bit, but obligingly stopped talking.

Rubin squinted at the sky a bit more, struggling to see to no avail.

“I mean,” Skironir said, after a few moments of just complete silence. “Listen, if we just keep going it’s not like we’ll, you know, get any more lost than we already are.”

“Are you joking?” Rubin said.

“Um.”

“You have to be joking, right? That was a joke, right?”

“No, I was serious.”

“We’re not that lost. I sort of know where we are.”

“Is this going to be like the time you got us all lost in the runewoods by accident? I don’t even know how you managed to get us there.”

“What? No. No, I’m not, that was totally different.” Well, he had been lying about knowing where they were then, too. “Probably totally different. At least a little different.”

“I swear to Freya, if you’ve led us around on a wild goose chase looking for something you don’t even know how to find I am going to ditch you here myself, Rubin.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Did you actually—are we really here without any sense of direction? Did you actually do that? Are you for real?”

“Bickering isn’t going to help us find our way any better.”

“So far all that we’ve found is, apparently, a circle to walk in while you lie to me about where we’re going. I think bickering is a better option.”

“Listen, I know where we’re going, okay? I’m serious. I do. I got directions from someone else and everything. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“Yes, you would.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“Yes, you would. You have. More than once.”

“Well, I’m not now. Okay? I know where we’re going.”

“Where are we going, then.”

“Northeast. Like I told you. It’s somewhere at the very foot of the volcano.”

“And you’re really being serious about that.”

“I am.”

“If I find out you’re lying to me, I swear I’m just going to leave you here and go home. I mean it, I will.”

“I believe you,” Rubin said, which was a lie.

“You do, do you,” Skironir said sarcastically.

“I believe you mean it,” Rubin conceded vaguely. “Listen, let’s hunker down and wait for the sky to clear, alright? Just a bit? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“You’d know, would you? Been here before?” Skironir snipped.

“No, but how long could it last?”

It lasted a while.

The sky darkened and got light and darkened again, and the clouds of ash only got worse. It got to the point that they were both dusted gray-white with ash and coughing from whatever it was, something in the air making it heavy and acrid and hard to breathe.

“Sure we shouldn’t just start walking?” Skironir said, at the beginning of the first night.

“No,” Rubin said. “The last thing we need is to get more lost.”

And so they waited, and rested, and when the sun rose Skironir asked again.

“We’re not getting anywhere just sitting here. Are you sure we shouldn’t just pick a direction and start walking?”

“I’m still sure,” Rubin said.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” Skironir pointed out.

“I’m still sure,” Rubin insisted. “The last thing we need is to get into a place where it’s harder to breathe and then have to stop.”

“Maybe we should give it up,” Skironir said.

“We’ve already come this far.”

“That we have,” Skironir said. “That we have.” And he dropped it, and they waited some more; and then when dusk came again and they were both coughing on the fumes, Skironir brought it up one last time.

“I really don’t think we should stay here.”

“I can’t see how getting lost will help.”

“I think we’re going to suffocate if we stay here.”

“I can’t see how getting lost will help,” Rubin repeated.

“I can’t see how sitting around like a pair of dumbstruck fools will help, either.”

And he was right, so eventually Rubin ducked his head and staggered to his feet, the motion harder than he’d expected. His body felt heavy. Must’ve been the fumes.

“Are— what are we doing now. Are we going?”

“Yeah,” Rubin said. “You’re right. Staying here isn’t doing us any good.”

“And I can’t imagine you can figure out where we need to go from here,” Skironir asked.

“No.”

“So let’s,” Skironir sniffed the air, and broke off into a set of hacking coughs. Rubin fought the urge to wince.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Skironir grimaced. “Let’s go that way.” He inclined his head away from the volcano. Or. Where Rubin thought the volcano was; away from the source of that awful sulfur breeze.

“I think that’s not—I don’t know where we need to go, but I’m pretty sure that’s directly away from it.”

“Do you want to walk into it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll go this way, and if we’re wrong we’re wrong.”

“I suppose,” Rubin said uncertainly. “We’ve come all this way, though. To go back empty-handed—”

“We can always try again.”

“…yeah,” Rubin said, eventually. “I just—I don’t want to lose our chance.”

“I know. Do you think I do? Obviously not. What do we have, a week left? Two?”

“Not enough.”

“But if we wind up dead, then of course we’re not going to manage it.”

“I know. But if there weren’t any risk, it wouldn’t be an issue—”

“Hanging out in toxic clouds is a little risk?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Rubin said. “Alright. Let’s—let’s get walking, see what we can find this way. You’re right.”

“Right,” Skironir said, and shook his head. “I swear, I can’t wait to get out of this cloud of smoke. I can’t wait for my eyes to stop watering.”

“I know, right,” Rubin said, and shook his legs off a bit. “Let’s head out.”

And they got up, together, out of their little shelter behind the crop of rock, and walked off into the gray haze.

...several days later...

“This is it,” Rubin said. “This has got to be it. Look, remember that whole little nonsense rhyme about the treacherous path and whatever-the-hell?”

“What if it was about something else?” Skironir said, looking dubiously at the sharp path. “I don’t think that can support our weight, if I’m going to be honest with you. Look, it’s practically crumbling.

“The lava clearly used to cover it. If it were that fragile it would’ve melted.”

“That’s even worse,” Skironir gritted his teeth. “Rubin. Do you know how hot lava is?”

“Hot.”

“Yeah. Really hot.”

“If we go across fast enough, it should be fine—”

“It’ll burn our hooves.”

“Not if we go fast enough.”

“Yes, if we go fast enough! Lava is super fucking hot, Rubin. It’s not a game.”

“Okay. Then I’ll try the passageway and you can stay here and then when I get the item you can’t have it.”

“That’s not fair,” Skironir said. “I came all this way.”

“Yeah, but now we have to keep going. And you don’t want to.”

“I just want to be sure this is safe.”

“It’s not,” Rubin said tacitly. “It’s definitely not. But the whole thing isn’t. We’re going into a volcano to get a magical item. What part of that sounds safe to you?”

Skironir sighed. “Yes, yes, I know. But there’s a difference between something dangerous but doable and just messing up out of recklessness. This is the latter, Rubin. You know it and so do I.”

Rubin sighed. Skironir had a point, loathe as he was to admit it. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, we’ll try to test it.”

“How?”

Rubin sighed. “Uh, I don’t know. Let me just try crossing.”

“That’s… that… kind of defeats the purpose of testing it,” Skironir said.

“I’ll go slowly.”

“Still.”

Rubin snorted and turned away, looking back to the narrow rock ridge.

“Be careful,” Skironir said, evidently giving up on dissuading him.

“I will,” Rubin said.

The ridge was made of black basalt, but shards of volcanic glass poked up here and there, sharp enough to cut. Rocks littered the pathway, as though they had fallen there and gotten stuck. The whole thing was barely the width of Rubin’s shoulders, and it looked uneven. Not something Rubin would want to brave in any other circumstance, that was for sure, and that wasn’t even considering the deathly heat bubbling up from the magma deep below the cavern and running through the walls beside them. One slip would mean death, without a shadow of a doubt. And if he was wrong, and there was a channel of lava running underneath or inside that chasm, even stepping foot on it could mean death, too.

Rubin took a deep breath, shot off a desperate prayer to Loki znd to Odin, and set foot on the walkway. He half expected it to crumble under his feet.

It held. It was slippery, but it held. Rubin tested his weight, and then delicately set down his other foot. The pathway was so narrow that he had to lean his feet towards each other to avoid from setting it directly on the edge. Rocks shifted under his second hoof, and he felt around for a more stable foothold before finally setting it down and attempting to take a carful step forward.

It was slow going, finding the safe footholds, waiting to make sure they’d handle his weight. And the oppressive heat of the volcano only grew more and more intense the further over the ridge he got. Besides and below it, he could feel hot air absolutely blasting up at him, superheated from the laval below, and it was already hot enough to begin with here so close to the heart of the earth. With his luck, the earth would shake underneath him, and he’d go crashing down into that all-destroying heat—

“Please hold still, please hold still, please hold still,” Rubin murmured under his breath, feeling for a safe foothold for his next step.

“What was that?” said Skironir. “Are—are you going to fall?”

“No,” Rubin called back. “Just, uh, you know, I don’t. I think it’s fine, actually. Uh.”

“You sound nervous as hell.”

“I am! I’m walking on a tiny pathway over a whole bunch of lava! Please let me concentrate, so I don’t die.”

Skironir scoffed, but also shut up.

Rubin made it to about halfway over the ridge without issue, and then when he set down his hoof to take the next step, he felt an alarming slide start to happen, and picked his hoof up just in time for a whole section of the path to snap and go sliding down to the cavernous depths below. The path wasn’t destroyed, no, no, it was still walkable, but that was deeply concerning. Skironir hissed in a breath behind him, but Rubin couldn’t afford to focus on him, not if he wanted to avoid meeting the same fate as that cluster of rocks.

The rocks around it, Rubin probed around very carefully with one hoof, seeemed relatively stable, at least, and he kept walking.

“Rubin, I think you should come back now,” Skironir said, as soon as he started up again. Rubin slipped and hastily had to struggle to get his balance back, instinctively turning back to look at him.

“Uh, I can’t,” he said, after a second. “I can’t turn to look at you without overbalancing. I can’t walk backwards on this ledge without falling.”

“Oh, shit,” Skironir said.

“So there’s only one way to go, and that’s all the way to the end.”

“Oh, shit,” Skironir repeated. “Loki guide us.”

“I just hope he doesn’t start moving while we’re on here. The last thing we’d need, ha,” Rubin said, trying to keep his tone light, “would be an earthquake. Could you imagine that?”

“Oh, good gods. You’re going to jinx us.”

“Just… let me concentrate on getting all the way to the edge, okay?”

“We should’ve brought a rope.”

Now that was a good idea. “We should’ve. Next year.”

“Next year,” Skironir agreed.

“Please let me concentrate now.”

Skironir reluctantly fell silent. Rubin could hear him prancing nervously at the edge of the more solid ground.

For his part, Rubin managed, albeit nervously, to make it the rest of the way across the narrow ridge and onto a larger outcropping of rock. He turned, and attempted to school his body language into something a little more reassuring. “Okay, Skironir. Perfectly safe. Now it’s your turn.”

“Perfectly safe,” Skironir repeated.

“Perfectly safe.”

“If I die, I’m going to claw my way back to this earth just so I can haunt you. I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this,” Skironir groused, cautiously setting one hoof and then the other onto the path. Skironir was a shade smaller than Rubin, and he fit on the path a little more comfortably, although not by much. He picked his way across relatively quickly, compared to Rubin, but did so safely for the most part. And for his part, Rubin got to discover a fascinating little tidbit: it was actually more nerve-wracking to watch someone you cared about pick their way over a deadly flow of lava on the world’s narrowest crumbling path ever than it was to do it yourself.

But at least he was doing it safely, Rubin figured. He didn’t put his hooves down wrong once. He didn’t slip, and the rocks didn’t break out from under him. He was nearly all the way over.

Skironir set one hoof down on solid ground, and then the other, and then he put one of his hooves wrong of rthe first time and the entire path crumbled beneath him. Rubin jumped forwards, trying to catch him, and Skironir scrabbled desperately at the uneven surface of the volcanic rock. By some miracle they managed to get him up, and he didn’t fall to a terrible and painful death. Had he been half an inch further back, it most likely wouldn’t have worked.

Good gods.

“Skironir, I— are you okay?” Rubin asked, sniffing him carefully.

“Rubin, how are we going to get back?”

“What? Are—are you hurt?”

“Rubin. The path. How are we going to get out?”

Rubin blinked at the chasm, now inconveniently missing several feet of path.

Aw, shit.

[amalthea9]

Classic Doctor Who Fanfic: Minerva and Salamander

OKAY SO this took MONTHS to write because I struggle to write these days and put ideas into words but it was still a fun thing because I haven’t ever written anything concerning my Doctor Who OC interacting with the Who Universe. This fic is regarding the Second Doctor’s serial The Enemy of the World, where the Doctor is a look alike to a dictator called Salamander. Salamander is the villian in the serial, but my thirsty ass finds him sexy as all get out because it’s Patrick Troughton playing a more sinister character. So this short fic will feature Minerva’s encounter with Salamander during the serial. I hope some fellow Whovians can enjoy this.

Minerva is an alien species that have ‘healers’ with telepathic powers that are able to both read and induce emotions and she is a romantic interest for the Doctor from his Second to Sixth incarnations. If you’d like to see artwork of her and her bio, feel free to visit my deviantart gallery here: https://www.deviantart.com/thelastunicorn1985/art/DoctorWhoOC-Minerva-433564132

***Her bio will be updated asap since I have now moved her beginning to the Second Doctor’s run instead of starting her at the Fourth Doctor***

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Part One This wasn't the original plan but it also hadn't really surprised Minerva. She stood out like a sore thumb amidst humans with her golden eyes and white hair. 

The original plan was to stay with Victoria and serve in the kitchen. But as soon as Ramon Salamander saw her, that was abandoned. He had told Fariah that Minerva would no longer be needed in the kitchen.

"She is needed elsewhere," Salamander had said, his dark eyes locked with Minerva's. 

Minerva had smiled a charming smile, coming to him when he beckoned her. Both Jamie and Victoria felt immediate fear at this occurrence, but Minerva wasn't afraid.

She had half expected something to happen, for Salamander to be intrigued by her appearance. The alien saw no reason to resist him either. That would threaten the success Jamie or Victoria might have in gathering information about Salamander. 

In fact, this could be an advantage if Minerva could relay to Jamie what Salamander might share behind bedroom doors.

Minerva knew Salamander's intentions from the moment she locked eyes with him. 

It was even more obvious when she stood in front of him and could sense the desire in him. So she continued to smile, curtsey, and ask in her soft voice.

"How may I serve you, my lord?"

Salamander smiled a dashing smile at the woman, his eyes glinting with delight at being called 'lord'.

"You flatter me, my dear with such a title," he chuckles. "What is your name?"

"Minerva," the woman replies, her eyes falling to the floor in shyness. 

She wasn't afraid of Salamander, but his gaze was intense. There was power behind them, a ferocity, much like a predator stares at his prey.  It was alluring too if she was honest with herself.

He had the Doctor's face but his eyes were completely different from the Doctor's. 

Salamander brought his index finger to Minerva's chin and gently lifted her head so that she would meet his eyes again.

"No need to be shy, Minerva," he said softly. "And you can serve me by being at my side. I am a lonely man, you see. It comes with the great power I possess. Your beauty would be a comfort to me. What do you say?"

He kept his dashing smile on, and Minerva knew what he was really saying. So did Jamie and Victoria.

He wanted an escort. A female companion to adorn his arm and be shown off. And if he so wished it, sexual favors.

Was this surprising? Hardly. What else does a man of power do with an exotic woman? 

Minerva saw this coming, she just wished that Jamie and Victoria hadn't been present for it. 

She also knew there was only one answer she could give.

She smiled softly and took his hand into her own.

"I am at your service, Salamander," she replied kindly.

Jamie stepped forward on instinct, but knew there was nothing to be done. He knew he just had to grit his teeth and hope that this mission ended quickly so they could all go back to the Tardis. And forget about anything that transpired…

Salamander grinned and kissed Minerva's hand. He turned then to Fariah.

"Fariah, have the most beautiful gowns brought to my chambers. As well as the finest  jewelry. I have a princess to adorn."

With those words, Salamander headed to his chambers, Minerva on his arm.

Fariah nodded and left the room, gesturing for Jamie and Victoria to follow her. They reluctantly did so. When they were walking down the hall, Victoria grabbed Jamie's arm and squeezed it tight. 

"Oh, Jamie!" She whispered in panic. "What will we do?! Minerva shouldn't have to do this!"

Jamie placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed it.

"We can't do anything right now," Jamie replied, his voice low and sad. "Minerva is a strong lass. I'm afraid for her too but...she would ask us to trust her as we always have, aye?" 

He looked down at Victoria to meet her eyes with his own. Victoria nodded, knowing he was right.

"Do not be concerned for your friend," Fariah said suddenly but without facing them. 

Jamie and Victoria looked at her in surprise.

"Salamander is many things," Ferah continued, face forward. "But an abuser of women he is not."

Victoria and Jamie looked to each other and hoped that Fariah was right.

Minerva felt strangely calm. She didn't fear being used for sex by Salamander, and that surprised her to a degree. Her culture never said that women should submit to men, and she hated the fact that almost all of earth felt that way. She didn't feel used though. That was the concerning part for her. She didn't care if she was forced to have sex with Salamander. Deep down, she felt a twinge of excitement at the prospect.

Was it because he was identical to the Doctor? His aura was completely different from the Doctor's, but there was no trace of malice in him towards her. She only felt the lustful desire from him. 

Minerva knew the Doctor did not love her in the way she loved him. No emotions other than friendship emitted from him. It had hurt to come to terms with that, but Minerva was wise enough to know that sometimes love is not mutual. And as much as it hurt, she also did not let it destroy her. The Doctor loved her in his own way. And that would have to be enough.

Salamander looked almost identical to the Doctor, so perhaps sex with him would help ease the pain a little. Salamander obviously didn't love her either, so there was no harm to him. It wouldn't heal her heartache, but it would give a sliver of relief.

Minerva let these thoughts run through her mind, she wasn't sure she would be able to do it when the time came. It was a pathetic attempt at healing and she knew it...but…

"You are very quiet, my dear."

Minerva blinked as she awoke from her thoughts and looked up to Salamander.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "Forgive me, Salamander. I was just… just thinking."

"Thinking, eh?" Salamander inquired. "About what?"

Minerva had to think of something quick to say.

"Of...how unworthy I feel of your favor," she replied, smiling sweetly.

Salamander chuckled deeply, a throaty sound that made Minerva blush a bit. 

"Now now," he says, bringing her hand up to his lips. "You are a beauty. I have never seen a woman like you before. I could not resist you."

Minerva smiled at him and quietly chuckled.

"You flatter me, Salamander," she replies.

"And I shall continue to do so, my dear," he chuckles in reply.

They arrive at his chambers and Minerva can see Salamander spares no expense when it comes to decorating.

It is a large room, with furnishings of dark oak. The curtains are shades of red and orange, with elaborate embroidery on them. There is a very large canopy bed at the far end of the room, it's curtains are also red and orange. The sheets are red and appear to be satin. There are balcony doors, a small table with two chairs, and a large desk. Several dressers and shelves with books, and a beautifully carved loveseat.

"Here we are, my dear," Salamander stated as he leads her to the love seat.

Minerva nods. "It is the grandest room I have ever seen."

"Ah good," Salamander grins as they sit down. "I aim to impress."

Minerva chuckles and tries to ease her nerves. While she doesn't feel he means her harm, she still feels the unease as she struggles with her own thoughts.

"I need to keep him busy," she thought to herself as her thoughts quickly shifted to Jamie and Victoria. 

But also the idea of keeping Salamander busy brought a little sense of enjoyment with it. This man, like all men in power, was just slowly reeling her in, as is a fish on the line. However, she was a fish that was willing to be caught. As much as she could feel his desire, she could feel her own desire slowly growing inside herself. T

This man, a man of cruelty, wore the face of a man she loved and desired; but who could never be hers. If for one night she could look into that face... and her heart's deepest desires come true... then she would take that night. As much as he thinks he is going to use her, she is going to use him just as much.

"You do not need to be afraid, Minerva," Salamander says, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Minerva looks up to him in surprise, not expecting him to speak in such a way. 

"I have asked for your company, but I will not force myself upon you. I have seen too many women in my old country treated in such a way and I despise it."

Salamander takes one of Minerva's hands and brings his lips to it, once more kissing it gently.

Minerva smiles at him, feeling her cheeks blush golden.

Salamander sees that her cheeks flush gold and not pink and it makes him stare at her in wonder.

"Where do you come from? You look to me as a goddess of old."

Minerva often forgets about her blood color. And realizes she may not be able to explain it away, or the matter of how her hair grows halfway down her spine. With a gracious smile, she can think of nothing else to say except.

“I am from a very far away place, the last of my kind in fact. My people were an unusual race, our blood has a golden tint to it, and, as you might have noticed, our hair grows halfway down our spines. I believe it was some sort of genetic anomaly, but we were all like this.”

It was the best she could think of on the spot, and Salamander seemed to accept it. He nodded thoughtfully and smiled.

“A woman of mystery, eh? How exciting,” he mused.

 Minerva chuckled at that.

“You enjoy excitement, don’t you, Salamander?”

Salamander leaned forward at this moment, his face only inches from hers.

“Ramon,” he whispered against her lips. “I wish you to call me Ramon.”

Minerva’s cheeks flushed a deeper hue, taken off guard by his sudden closeness. His dark eyes roamed her face, and rested at her lips. Minerva knew what he wanted, and...in spite of herself...she wanted it too.

“Ramon,” she whispered, her golden eyes shimmering, and she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

They felt rougher than she expected, but still inviting. He brought his hands up to cup her face, his touch gentle. She heard him breathe sharply through his nose as he deepened the kiss, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. 

Was this what it would have been like to kiss the Doctor?

She could pretend at least.

After a moment, he broke the kiss, smiling with contentment.

“Your lips are more heavenly than I imagined, my dear,” he cooed, his fingers playing with a few strands of her hair.

“Thank you, Ramon,” Minerva shyly replied.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Salamander’s head turned sharply to the door and inquired who it was with annoyance.

“Fariah, Sir,” was the reply. “With the garments and jewelry you requested.”

Salamander’s annoyance immediately dissipated as he turned to Minerva with a sauve grin.

“Come, Minerva,” he says, taking her hand in his. “Allow me to adorn you as a princess.”

Minerva nods and smiles, her heart beat still faster than usual.

Salamander instructs Fariah to enter, and Minerva sees a clothing rack full of all sorts of shimmering gowns. The colors are varied, all brilliant and obviously expensive. Following the rack, another servant carries a wooden box made of polished oak. She assumes that it is full of expensive jewelry.

Fariah instructs the servant to place the box on the small table, then with a bow to Salamander, leaves with the other servant. Salamander looks almost boyishly excited as he brings Minerva over to the rack of dresses.

“These are all made by the finest tailors in the districts. Embroidered with patterns of suns, various flowers, and even stars. Now,” he begins, turning to Minerva. “What are your favorite colors, my princess?”

Minerva can’t help the flattered giggle she emits at being called ‘princess’, and she replies that her favorite colors are purples and greens in all shades.

“Ah of course,” Salamander nods thoughtfully. “Lavender is what you are wearing right now, and it is a perfect color for you,” he grins.

Minerva nods her head with a smile of thanks at the compliment and proceeds to look through the gowns. Each of them feel like silk or a similar fabric. Some have long sleeves made of sheen fabric, some have layers in the skirt for dancing. She runs her fingers over the embroideries, amazed at the skill. After a few minutes, she comes to a gown of deep shades of blue. It has sheen sleeves, with golden embroidery on the end of the sleeves. It is layered, lighter blues underneath the initial layer of dark blue. Salamander sees how she admires this dress, and steps up behind her.

“Does this one please you?” he asks, his voice low and close to her ear.

Minerva shivers at the sensation of his husky voice in her ear and his closeness, but keeps her composure.

“Yes,” she whispers in reply. “It reminds me of the night, a time of serenity.”

“Then try it on, my darling,” Salamander replies, his voice still low and laced with lust.

Minerva is still for a second. She lets herself take in Salamander's rush of lust, and she knows he would happily have her undress right there. But she wants to remain mysterious for as long as she can. Lead him on for as long as she can to buy time for the others. 

She turns her head so that their faces are once again inches apart. She smiles a teasing smile at him as she whispers, "Is there somewhere I can change?"

Salamander grins and chuckles in the back of his throat. He knows she isn't going to show him everything so soon. He enjoys the game, makes the reward more satisfying.

"Yes," he replies in a low voice. 

He hovers over her for a second more, then slowly turns his head to the far left corner of the room.

Minerva follows his gaze and sees a 3 panel changing wall. She looks back to Salamander, her smile still coy.

"Thank you," she whispers, and heads to the changing wall.

She changes as fast she can, and is grateful that this dress has a low enough back for her hair. As she emerges from behind the wall, Salamander smiles wide.

"A vision," he states, gesturing to Minerva to make a full turn about. 

She chuckles and does so as Salamander comes up to her.

"It is the perfect dress for you, my princess," he says as he lifts her hand to his lips. 

Minerva smiles kindly at the compliment as Salamander gestures to the jewelry box.

"Now for the finishing touches," he grins as he opens the box.

Minerva gasps in awe at the contents. There are necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Both silver and gold, many different gem stones crafted into the various pieces. 

Salamander watches her as she reaches for a gold necklace with a small pendant. The pendant has a purple stone in it's center, Minerva would guess it could be amethyst. She smiles and Salamander knows she's made her selection.

He takes the necklace from her with a smile as he says, "Allow me."

Minerva obliges him, letting him clasp the necklace in a parting of her hair. He makes his way back around to face her and smiles with satisfaction.

"I must confess," Minerva begins with a worried expression. "I really don't feel I need any other piece of jewelry. I am quite content with only a necklace."

Salamander shakes his head dismissively.

"No need for apologies, my dear. You have already enchanted me in the dress alone."

Minerva's expresses relief as she smiles and nods her head in gratitude. 

There is a knock at the door, and Salamander beckons them in. The servant says that dinner is almost ready but that Salamander has a few things to see to first. Salamander turns back to Minerva and takes her hands to kiss them.

"Please excuse me, my dear," he apologizes. "But feel free to visit the kitchens or wherever else you fancy before dinner. I will send someone for you when it is ready."

Minerva nods in thanks and smiles graciously to him and Salamander leaves. Minerva decides to start exploring.

[hannawolfcrosswarning]

Warning about hannawolfcross / spareusallanotheryear / caseclosededogawa

During 2012, when I was 17, Erin/Hanna was involved in a long distance romantic and sexual relationship with me. We met on deviantart, and most of our interactions were on there, but were lost with my account. We roleplayed sex/romance between two characters I loved at the time, and she made several comments about wanting to marry me, date me, and/or be involved with me in some way or another. When we became involved, she was, based on my math, 26/27. Proof of her age from an ask sent to her in 2016 that I found

Though most of the conversations between us are gone from my facebook and deviantart, there are a few hints on her main rp blog. Below are conversations we had publicly in 2012, when I was 17, turning 18 the summer of that year.

(a discussion about my lack of interest in sex, and her admitting she was sexually interested in me)

(something she tagged me in, my deadname is blocked out. After enough sexual hints and passes from her, I asked her about sexting because I thought it was the obvious and necessary step we should make, and it seemed to be something she really wanted. We did this twice.)

A discussion regarding me moving in when I turn 18, something we talked about quite a bit, because I was in an abusive home situation and desperate for an escape. 

She knew I was only 17, and that I was still in high school during the entirety of our relationship. She was a married woman at that time, and although her husband was aware of our relationship, it still doesn’t take away from the fact there was a huge difference between life and relationship experience between us. Here is her admitting her plans in an ask reply after our eventual falling out.

(unrelated to our relationship, but little snippets of roleplaying where her character was temporarily a child, and still expressing sexual interest for the character he was in a relationship with)

(and another instance where he was a 16 year old, and sexual roleplay still went down with another person, with the theme of his virginity being taken by an “older” and gentle man)

(While not as serious as what went down with us, little things like this popped up with her character from time to time and it was just more proof she had no negative opinion about teenagers and adults being involved)

I will openly admit I was not easy to be with back then, I was a confused and angry/desperate teenager with absolutely zero knowledge on how to be in a decent relationship. I was needy, immature, and bratty. And I was prone to lashing out, pushing adults past their limit, and trying to purposely upset them so they treated me how I thought I deserved and needed to be treated. The string of adults I allowed to romantically chase me as a kid is proof of that. Unchecked disorders and trauma played a huge part, but it’s a reason, not an excuse. I was emotionally/mentally immature.

I did a lot of things I regret in that relationship, I was a mess and a toxic handful. It really truly didn’t help that the maturity between us was seven years apart, and I wasn’t aware of that difference or why it mattered. A high school kid trying to be in a serious relationship with a married adult will never turn out right, it’s never good, but I lacked the knowledge to know that. She, on the other hand, did not. There was no way she was ignorant to the problems there.

When it all fell apart due to all the things I just mentioned, she was content to sit back and allow her other adult friends to call me out and isolate me from the fandom and rp circle I was in. This pushed me to my very first suicide attempt, handled very poorly by myself and everyone involved, when the police contacted my (abusive) parents, they said I was fine and everyone accused me of “faking” the situation, which was far from the truth. The trauma of that attempt, and how scared I was, is still a problem I’m trying to confront.

She also accused me of things that simply weren’t true, and used that to further attempt to chase me out of any friend group I was in from there. I remade my blog after a while and tried to start over/heal in a separate fandom. She did things like send me anons, allow her friends to contact me passive aggressively, and create more callouts about me with information that was false (as in: using posts I made about a sexually abusive ex to say I was lying about her, when the posts in question had nothing to do with her, and were actually about someone I knew years before we met, to create a callout and tag it with the fandoms I was part of. Situations like this continued to happen for quite some time, despite her saying she cut contact and was done with me.) She also got herself involved with any disagreements I had with others, and consistently pushed to “teach me a lesson” and show me the error of my ways through public humiliation.

(I will quickly mention that her friend behind these callouts was also an adult, who was famous for being aggressive and callout happy. They threatened their 16/17 year old smut rp partner around that time with threats of callouts and public isolation if they didn’t change their tune and become a better person, which is what they ultimately did to me. They are also an outspoken “anti anti” running a naruto incest rp blog, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Years later I contacted her to apologize for my part in everything going to shit, and while she accepted it, she had no apologies to say back and blocked me before the conversation could go any further. That was the last and only attempt I made.

The trauma and issues from our relationship are not really something I allowed myself to accept and realize. I blamed myself for everything that happened for years, and it was until I was an adult myself that I realized what happened was wrong. I’m almost 25 now, and the thought of dating a teenager makes me sick to my stomach, as it should! but she never had a problem with the idea. Not once did she apologize or admit guilt for dating a high school kid as an adult well in her late 20s. As far as I can tell, she sees nothing wrong with it, and neither do her friends who sat back and allowed it to happen/encouraged it.

I still have nightmares about the falling out, and the sexual conversations between us/how they made me feel, and I’m terrified of anyone more than seven years older trying to befriend me. I ran from a friend recently due to the age difference between us, and their mannerisms reminding me of her. I turn down romantic gestures from partners that imply they want to take care of me, or unintentionally seem infantilizing. Even the mention of large age gaps with teens and adults makes me shake. I woke up shaking from a nightmare just last night about my loved ones terrorizing me the way her friends did.

It was extremely difficult for me to see past the kind person I remember her being during our relationship, put a name to the dirty and ashamed feeling I had, and realize her behavior was predatory and wrong. And whether or not it was intentional grooming, she still behaves as if there was nothing wrong with her actions, and a relationship like that was/is acceptable and normal. It really does worry me for any future teenagers she could befriend, and makes me sick to think about the kind of people she calls friends and supporters. Minors are not safe around those people, and that’s simply all there is to it.

Please do not send her anons, contact her, or harass her/her friends. This puts me at risk for being targeted again, and it’s really not behavior I’m okay with or encourage. This isn’t a callout as much as it is a warning, and a way to keep teenagers from making the same mistakes I did. If an adult shows interest in you, please run, cut contact, reach out to guardians. “Age is just a number” is a bullshit and dangerous statement, and I really don’t want anybody to learn the hard way. Stay safe