#that child is not ready to compete with the adults

[formulawolff]

also i wanna clarify something real quick—

we all know i love my man & i love mercedes but like… what the actual fuck was this man thinking???

[serpentface]

A pair of Czekl drakes readying at a flower duel.

The one stretching and yawning is dressed in full dueling/dancing attire, which shows off material wealth via fine clothing and feathers while also exposing the sexiest part of his breeding plumage (in this culture it's the head and neck) and his flushed blue skin.

The other is his pair bonded partner, whose drab full body covering and clipped quills establishes that he is not available for reproduction this year, and meets expected modesty standards for a seasonally celibate drake. His presence makes his reproductively available partner more attractive to prospective hens, as it indicates that the celibate drake will have no offspring of his own this year and his full investment will be in his partner's young (and thus that of any hens who choose him).

---

[Key for the typical sex assignments across qilik sexual variation:

Hen: Lays eggs, has duller coloration year-round, largest average body mass.

Drake: Produces sperm, has brighter coloration that molts into very colorful breeding plumage, skin seasonally flushes blue, smaller average body mass.

Faeder: Produces sperm and is usually physically indistinguishable from hens in average size and coloration. Can be anywhere between 1-25% of the sperm producing population.]

---

Qilik species-wide descend from an ancestral mating system in which hens did not form pair bonds with drakes and played no role in raising subadult offspring, and rather would mate with chosen drake(s) and leave their eggs with the most favored suitor. Drakes would form long term pair bonds with other (usually related) drakes and cooperatively brood and raise young together. Faeder would wander through lekking grounds and opportunistically mate with hens (without having to directly compete with drakes) and play no further role in hatching/rearing their offspring.

They have brief windows of seasonal fertility triggered by the springtime increase of daylight hours (with some equatorial populations having their cycles triggered by seasonal rains instead). Most drakes experience a significant surge of testosterone which causes their springtime molt producing very bright new feathers and their skin to flush blue (if they are well-nourished).

Modern qilik have full behavioral plasticity that subjects this baseline mating system to tremendous cultural variation. There are some broad commonalities- drakes perform the majority of child rearing across most cultures, forms of drake sexual display (whether directly involved in reproduction or not) are nearly ubiquitous in the form of various cultural practices (dances, songs, mock or real combat, etc), and seasonal fertility is a purely biological trait and a universal.

The nomadic culture and heavily dispersed population of the Czekl people means reproductive arrangements are rarely made in advance. Rather, regional populations assemble in established locations during mid spring for a month-long event where the usually separated hen/faeder clans and drake clans can mingle. This is a time for trade, for drake parents to find suitable clans for any of their young adult hen/faeder children, and for individuals looking to reproduce to find a suitable (and highly temporary) partner.

In this culture, hens usually play no direct part whatsoever in their children's lives and may very well never see them hatched. Hens are believed to be the mechanism that supplies spiritual ancestral guardianship to their young, but their material responsibility begins and ends with finding a drake who can show himself to be strong, handsome, healthy, tied to a good clan, and economically secure enough to take good care of their offspring. This process is sometimes accomplished with simple meeting and talking, but the flashiest ways for drakes to advertise themselves is the flower duel.

This is a combination of a dance and a fight, in which available drakes congregate on a dueling ground, match up against the best looking rival they can find, and attempt to pin them to the ground while also dancing to chanted music and showing off their finest clothing and sexy feathers. Hens will watch these proceedings (usually aided by other members of their clan), and can approach anyone that catches their eye after the fact to converse and ensure that they have found a good father for their children. This also functionally provides a mechanism for drakes who do not have a pair-bonded male partner to attract a co-parent, and this culture's equivalents of romance stories lavish attention to narratives of flower duel rivals becoming enamored in the process of their mock battle.

Czekl culture places very little expectation on even temporary fidelity, and hens will often mate with multiple drakes per season and only provide their single egg (often of indeterminate siring) to the one they deem best. It's up to an individual drake to not only prove that he's extremely sexy and excellent father material, but that he can be good company for the week or so between the first (of usually many) acts of breeding and his reproductive partner(s) laying their eggs. While hens and drakes rarely form any sort of permanent bond in this culture (and aren't likely to see each other whatsoever for the rest of the year), these temporary friendships can be meaningful and enjoyable. There's plenty of things to do at this gathering besides just showing off and fucking, and temporary mates that actually hit it off will often bring their respective clans together to socialize and trade.

---

The modesty standards of qilik cultures trend towards regulating attire of drakes more intensely than hens/faeder, especially when in breeding plumage and skin condition. Czekl society has fairly limited modesty standards, with the cloaca being the only part of the body expected to remain publicly covered in most contexts regardless of gender. The only major exception is that drakes who are choosing to remain celibate for the breeding season (or who have secured as many partners as they can handle) are expected to demonstrate this with full body covering. The exposure of seasonally blue tinted skin and breeding plumage is treated as an advertisement of full sexual availability, and uncovered drakes who refuse any mating are often subject to aggression and treatment as sexually deviant.

Czekl drake pairs typically take turns playing the reproductive role, hence the routine presence of seasonally celibate males at this event. A drake being able to display that he not only has a bonded partner but one who will remain nonreproductive for this season increases his chances of reproductive hookups. It tends to be assumed that partnered drakes will disproportionately invest in their own offspring, so having sex with a drake who has a celibate male partner is seen by most hens as guaranteeing a better future for the one and only egg they can lay each year.

This perception is a cultural bias rather than a response to behavioral drives, as partnered drakes do not actually show instinctive preference for their own young over that of their pair-bonded partner's. The evolutionary background for this is rooted in pre-behaviorally modern qilik male partners very frequently being biological brothers, and thus reaping selective benefits in mutual care for their related young. This is not as ubiquitously the case for behaviorally modern qilik, though incest taboos are rarely applied to bonded drake relationships. In the Czekl sphere, up to a quarter of these nonreproductive pair bonds are between male siblings.

It is exceptionally rare for qilik cultures to form taboos surrounding homosexual behavior between drakes, and when extent they tend to regulate actual sex acts rather than the forming of these pair bonds in of themselves. Less rare is acceptance of drake celibacy (outside of various religious contexts that dictate it), referring to complete/attemptedly lifelong abstinence from mating with hens. Czekl (and most central plains qilik groups) do not police the sexuality of drakes as aggressively as more intensely hen-matriarchal cultures do, but it’s still an expectation that all drakes will participate in bringing offspring to their clans over the course of their lives. Those who remain Serially (rather than seasonally) celibate are often subject to discrimination and sometimes even ousting from their own clans. The clan is the central unit of Czekl society and drake clans (treated as bloodlines) are sustained by their members providing offspring, so choosing never to do so is treated as imperilment of a clan's future.

Czekl drakes forming permanent pair bonds with hens is considered unnatural and deviant (though not aggressively policed, and very rare in practice), and forming these with faeder is HIGHLY stigmatized (faeder themselves are treated as barren hens in spite of their actual fertility, and are discouraged both from mating with hens and from forming bonds with drakes/joining drake clans). The practice of seasonally celibate drakes appearing in this public setting with full body covering has (culturally unintentional) functions in enabling these stigmatized drake/faeder pair bonds to fly under the radar (by giving an avenue for a faeder to hide her dull coloration and therefore sex assignment, under the guise of being a celibate drake), and allowing them to obtain offspring for themselves.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

you've given me too much animorphs inspiration (animorspiration?) and I'm now drowning. help. I wrote like half an essay on The Tragedy of David and how it's not really about whether he deserved a chance to change but the fact that they just straight up did not have the luxury (or tools) to give one. I think that while rachel's only regret is not giving him a clean kill, at the same time she would have done almost anything to be able to throw david at a competent adult role model and watch him face a nonlethal and constructive consequence for his actions.

I think a lot of things about david, too many for the little shit. he's such an asshole, he's cruel and sexist and so fucking unpleasant to read about I can barely imagine the horror of actually being in a room with him. but he's also just fucking thirteen. I want to grab him by the scruff of his neck and send him to therapy. even better I want a story where his family lives and it doesn't magically make him a decent person, he's still awful because he's goddamn david, and *then* he's dragged to a good therapy program and has a real incentive to change. also I guess the child soldier thing would be happening too in the background or whatever.

I couldn't agree more, with all of that. The decision to nothlit him (and kill him) is excruciatingly well-justified in canon. He's so despicable that I often want to reach through the page and throttle him. He reminds me of myself when I was a spoiled, damaged 13-year-old sick to death of being The New Kid at every school.

Maybe I was never quite that misogynistic. But at 13, I thought Light Yagami had the right approach to ethics. I thought the world would be better off if people would just shut up and give more power to the government. I was naive, I was awkward, I was a rich white kid with more experience being excluded than befriended and my social skills reflected that. Oh, and did I mention my obsession with snakes and horror comics and trying to shock adults? Because that's the root of my personal desire to stomp David's face in.

He's a normal kid, with normal problems, with a normal amount of teenage self-centeredness and temperamentalism. And the other Animorphs have basically no choice but to kill him to get him off their team. Because he's not ready for the tremendous soul-crushing responsibility they're forced to take on, to keep their species alive.

You know that old joke, about including exactly one normal athlete on every Olympic team so that we can really appreciate just how astoundingly good all the Olympians are? That's David, for the Animorphs. He's not superhumanly selfless, and he's the only one on the team for whom that's true.

[cheeseceli]

Your nephew is jealous of him

Pairing: ot7 BTS × Gn! reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reactions, a bit of crack

Request: when they try to get close to the reader, their toddler niece/nephew won't let them. The baby is really possessive of y/n and doesn't like anyone touching them.

Warnings: some of them are almost fighting with the kids lmao; that's it.

A/n: this was actually so fun lmao | daily click

Jin

‌oh so this is his first trial to prove himself as boyfriend material, he sees

‌he's ready

‌will try to befriend your niece

‌is actually trying to enchant her and be like "hey I'm nice too :D"

‌and honestly it's working?

‌of course it is, bro is doing everything the little girl asks of him 😭

‌but his goal is not to steal you from your niece

‌is to steal your niece from you

‌being liked by the family ✔️

having a chance of being invited on next hangouts ✔️

impressing you by showing he's good with kids ✔️

‌he's so winning

Suga

‌he's honestly a bit confused

‌because why can't he be even three meters near you??

‌at first he thought the kid wanted to play with you or just missed you

‌but then he noticed the problem was him 💀

‌your nephew just low-key hates him

‌and actually, Yoongi ain't doing anything to change his mind

‌he's just chilling as far from you as possible

‌just so the kid doesn't make a scene

‌and when you laugh at him and try to get closer saying "it's okay"

‌he's like "please don't come any closer your nephew will attack me-"

‌kid 1, suga 0

J-hope

‌he thought it was funny

‌cute even

‌it was good to know kids liked you

‌that could only mean you were a very good person right?

‌well, now Hobi is the one who's almost becoming a bad person 💀

‌he can't handle your niece trying to take him away from you every. single. time

‌like hey, I like them too??

‌he's trying to either bribe her or just straight up calling her mother to take her away

‌"that's not mature" he doesn't care that much atp

‌he just wants a second with you without a kid screaming at him

Namjoon

‌he truly is trying to be the bigger person

‌he knows he is the adult and your nephew is just a little kid

‌but he is about to start beef with this child

‌he tried his best, but now he's just stressing😭

‌he really thought he could use this opportunity to get closer to your family but that's just too much

‌tries to leave you and the kid for a while and then he tries small talk with the rest of your family members

‌but if he comes back after a hour or two and your nephew is still being possessive

‌he's about to cling to you so the kid either makes a scene and is taken by his parents or just notice that he can't win

‌namjoon 1, kid 0

Jimin

‌he gives up

‌the kid can have whatever he wants, Jimin is not fighting him😭

‌in the beginning he tried to like talk with your nephew

‌negotiate even

‌but then the kid just starts screaming and kicking him when he tries to get close to you and he's like "yeah, no"

‌he can endure being away from you for a while

‌kid 1, jimin 0

Taehyung

‌i'm honestly surprised this kid likes you more than him because damn

‌he truly has his charms when it comes to kids

‌and I think your nephew would like him quite a lot honestly

‌that is until he decides to come close to you

‌and at first taehyung is just a little confused

‌but then he's offended

‌like "I thought we were friends?!"

‌is honestly more upset with the fact the child suddenly doesn't care about him when you're near than the fact he can't be around you

Jungkook

‌oh now this is a competition

‌"no, my niece is only three years old"

‌he doesn't care.

‌if she didn't wanna compete then she shouldn't have started it

‌he is trying to distract her like "oh look, an airplane"

‌and then he's running to you the moment she is busy with something else

‌and actually gets like 🤨😦😔 when he sees he lost for a child

‌actually relieved when the evening is over and you guys are going back home

‌ but if there's a next time, bro will make a whole war strategy and will be prepared

Masterlist | you'll probably like: you have a lot of plushies

Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @lelewright1234

Dividers by @peachesboard | images 1 , 2 and 3

[cupcakedieabetes]

Dumpster Baby Part 3

<<First, <-Previous

Dick, as Robin, huffed in anger, scouting out the rooftops alone as he had ran from Batman after an argument.

Batman thought he was so incompetent because he was still young, Dick would show him for sure when he finds THE kidnapper.

The kidnapper had been showing mostly in poorer parts. Nobody knew if it was a group, but most testimonies either didn't want to talk about it, or they didn't even know that their children disappeared in the first place.

Dick thought, it would be a great idea to show Batman that he was competent by being bait without his help. Dick was still young enough to be one of the targets, either as his civilian form or as Robin, so he could go as either, anyways.

Despite being alone, Dick knows that Batman still has trackers and cameras on Robin, so he could use this as proof so that Batman didn't have to be so annoying with his nagging.

It was kind of chilly in the middle of the night, so Robin huddled on a rooftop, peering below to observe a potential kidnapping.

"B̸̫̐̚á̶̝͝b̶̦͌̔ẙ̸̢͈???"

Robin whirled around, eyes widened, and screamed

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

Batman rushed to the area where Robin was, having just observed him from far when the cameras on him, both visual and audio went fuzzy.

But what he can tell last was Robin screaming in terror. Batman didn't know what exactly did Robin encountered, but whatever it was, he didn't want to be too late for whatever it is.

This was why he kept trying to bench Robin. He didn't want a dead child on his hand, something that was entirely preventable if he was stricter..

The tracker on Robin was also untrackable, so Batman went the classic way of tracing his last whereabouts through the cameras, finding the fuzzyness that lead him to a warehouse.

He slammed open the door to the entrance, weapons ready to attack, but found it empty. But not quite.

Batman cautiously entered into the warehouse, finding transparent glowing people ignoring him. Apparitions? There were so many, and what fo-

He whirled around, feeling that someone was staring at him, only to see an eyeball staring at him.

He threw a Batarang at the eyeball, only for it to pass through. So he decided to launch himself at it, kicking it and punching it, but still it went through the eyeball.

Long glowing green hands extended from the floor and restricted his movements. Batman struggled against the hands, even resorting to biting it, but found that he could not get out of the bindings.

The hands started bringing him somewhere with the eyeball leading. Eyeballs. More and more eyeball started appearing, all to stare at him.

"BATMAN!!!" His head whirled around to spot Robin, safe and unharmed, and most of all, FREE, running towards him.

"It's okay!! Batman is just worried about me!!!" Dick looked at an eyeball.

The eyeball just kept on staring alongside the other eyeballs, but the hands slowly removed itselves from him.

"Batman! I found the kidnapper! And you wouldn't believe it!!!" Dick dragged Batman by the arm, but the adult was firm in place.

"Explain. Otherwise, I'll be telling this to Agent A."

Robin winced and whined.

"That's why!!! I'm dragging youuuuu to show youuuuuu." Robin tilted back while hanging onto his arms.

Batman let himself be led by Robin to a room. And for the first time in a while since his debut as Batman, did he get shocked at something he had never encountered before.

I wrote this in a way that Dick still isn't able to separate himself from 'Robin' and 'Dick' while Batman is able to separate the identities completely.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x fem!Reader) Monster AU- pt 19

(As a Kelpie, Trey is carnivorous and has a tendency to hunt his own meals. From deer, to rabbits, to fish, he will catch and consume his prey. He was far more driven by predatorial instincts as a child and actually bit Riddle once when Trey's parents were trying to teach the Unicorn to swim. Riddle has not forgotten or forgiven the bite as it did need stitches. To this day, Riddle refuses to swim with Trey because Trey bit him when they were kids.)

Warnings: yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, multiple competing yandere, romantic intentioned Yandere, platonic intentioned Yandere, Harpy, Selkie, Sphinx, Spirits, Dragon, Hellcat, Vampire Bat,

~~~~~~~~

"Any word on what has been decided?"

The staff murmured quietly in the very early morning, most of them somewhat asleep as they met for what felt like the umpteenth time in the past three weeks. They had much to discuss and iron out as a group given the more than eventful few weeks it had been. Barely into the official academic year and they already had to meet almost every other day due to the impromptu student.

Not to say they minded the soft and abnormal student they all found themselves adoring and looking after, more they minded how others seemed to look at that soft student. Many of the staff were of the mentality that they had to be guides and enter parental-like roles for this wayward soul tossed to the mercy of the least inviting academic setting to such a creature. Most students of Night Raven College were confrontational, selfish, and butting heads on a good day. Tossing in a lone female student in an all male student body was trouble, tossing a soft Human female into the adult all male population of Night Raven students? An absolute upheaval of social norms and settings.

The staff had no choice but to take on parental roles, lest the students gnaw free of their own inhibitions and leap like slavering beast at the soft Human. At least with the staff standing at the ready as deterrents, few students had the agency to try anything. Still, that didn't mean the many self proclaimed poachers and Humanfuckers alike weren't equally thrown off by the staff.

Beyond the threats on Sage Island, more still needed to be discussed.

"The evidence was more than damning, and it wasn't hard to figure out where he had been siphoning funds from. To think, someone so high-ranking could turn on a critically- and effectively extinct- species to secure their own fragile sense of power. The execution will take place in a few weeks time. She is required by the laws observed in the Queendom of Roses to be present and even witness the beheading."

Professor Trein winced at this, setting down his delicate tea cup in the saucer. The older Sphinx had been the primary source of fatherly wisdom as he raised his own cubs and had the most accurate recollection of Human history in Twisted Wonderland. Naturally, he was opposed to such a grisly prospect.

"Where I agree the punishment must be severe for the crime committed, does she truly need to be present for that? It is a messy affair to see a beheading and I can't help but worry she may not be able to handle such a violent act done exclusively in her name."

"I disagree," Divus now spoke up, tapping his typical riding crop against his leg in thought, "I feel she will be more than willing to see the one who targeted her and Grim be punished for his crimes. Now, she can't go alone, that is out of the question, but who would be assigned to go with her? Surely a staff member familiar with the Queendom, such as myself, but we all know the upheaval that will come from all students should we limit who is allowed to attend."

"Perhaps it would be best to let her decide who she feels safest with? It is several weeks out, we have time. What is more pressing of an issue is who shall be next to act as her guards this time around. There is also the issue of Mr. Draconia being absent from Diasomnia for so long. To restrict his access would be best for Diasomnia, but may result in violence from him."

Crowley tilted his head before he seemed to realize the problem. He had forgotten to do the raffle again which meant none of the students knew who was expected to act as guards. Hopefully with this changing of the guard, Hades would also be content to return to the Isle of Woe.

"Why not just select the dorm that has obviously been maligned since her arrival? Savanaclaw deserves to be selected and Leona has more than proven he is a competent protector on several occasions."

"Excellent idea! Though, there is no Vice-Housewarden for Savanaclaw. Perhaps it should be a rule that at least two or more students from the dorm need to be selected as guards. Though I don't doubt Mr. Kingscholar is effective on his own, more eyes to watch for danger is not a bad idea."

~•§•~

You were somewhere between asleep and awake as you cuddled into the blankets and the warmth that seemed to surround you. Snoring softly in your arms was Grim as the young Hellcat decided early in the evening that he was going to stay close to you. Behind you, with his arms, tail, and wings wrapped around your figure, slept Malleus. The Dragon had been insistent that you stay in his embrace following the increased interest you gained after your day-long cooking feast.

As far as you were aware, everyone in the nest was still asleep.

Somewhere you vaguely figured that everyone was going to spend the day sleeping off the copious amount of sweets and other foods you had made the day prior. Ruggie had looked like a bloated balloon about to pop by the end of the day, though he certainly wasn't alone in that respect. Several students remained in the many different unoccupied rooms in Ramshackle following the feasting, Ruggie included.

Honestly, you were surprised when he began to weep upon eating a donut. It was odd to see the large fat tears rolling down his muzzle as he began obsessively shoving more of the fried sweet into his face, but his continued consumption told you he was happy. He ate until he was flat on the floor with his bloated belly on full display. Part of you wanted to scratch the little heart shape on his stomach, but your respect for the Gnoll kept you from treating him like a puppy.

Trey had been enthused with the donuts more than you expected and he was eager to help in every step of the process. From using the standing mixer- of which he begged Idia for his own- to helping you concoct the exact portioning of powdered sugar to water ratio for the glaze. With how happy the Kelpie was in the creation and consumption process, you vaguely began to consider Crowley's somewhat flippant question from earlier.

Perhaps you should take him up on teaching cooking classes. If all the ones who took the course were as willing to learn as Trey, perhaps it could be the start of something grand.

While you were lost in thought a soft light compelled you to open your eyes. Glowing on the other side of the room was a mirror, seeming to be shining from within. Something deep within your very soul urged and begged you to investigate, carefully wriggling from the Dragon's hold.

The only indicator that Malleus noticed your lack of warmth was the way he seemed to furrow his brow. Luckily for you, you had chosen a spot near the edge of the nest and didn't have to sneak across your nestmates. It vaguely intrigued you that you managed such a feat, as they had previously been woken by very little in the past. Perhaps it was your innate tallent to sneak away despite being entangled, or perhaps something more were at play.

As you approached the mirror, a soft whispering of many voices could be heard. It hummed and murmured words too low for you to understand and seemed to only intesnify as you got closer. When your hand reached out to touch it, the whispers fell silent leaving you in the quiet room once more.

You only somewhat noticed the movement in the corner of your eye, so dazzled by the mirror you almost missed the translucent figure floating next to it. The figure had a gaunt look to it as it was skinny and ethereal floating before you. Despite the oddity of its presence, you didn't feel afraid of it. If anything, the specter seemed to be Human.

Beckoning, the silent being floated backwards and away from you, encouraging you to follow the insistent gestures. A faint voice hummed in your mind as the spirit phased through the door.

'P l e a s e . . . T h e r e i s m u c h t o b e s a i d.'

You were hesitant and cautious, but this image of a Human in a world where Humans were extinct was rare. If there was a chance this thing was Human, or once was Human, you had to at least try to investigate it. Maybe they could help you get home without the monsters following suit.

Stepping lightly- oddly silent in the old creaking dorm- you followed the beckoning spirit.

The being led you to an old forgotten storage room across Ramschackle. Despite the unkempt look of the room it was void of all dust and incredibly cold. It was there two other spirits appeared, one was oddly small and difficult to see from how faded it was, barely visible among the many boxes. Last was a large spirit that was surprisingly opaque despite the ghostly appearance of the other two.

"What'dya know? A Human. You're actually... I thought we were all gone."

The largest of the spirits hummed out, a deep voice they kept low to minimize the sound they made. They looked so Human and yet the see-through appearances of the first two led you to believe they were dead. You didn't know actual spirits were a thing, but then again this world was quite different from your own.

"Sorry for frightening you," the first spirit spoke in a reedy whisper, "but I couldn't risk them noticing. It is hard to find a moment alone with you."

"Unfortunately, I rarely get to be alone these days."

"We've noticed. We're Human- well, we're what's left of the Humans that lived on this world. We want to help you. You're a lot like us, but something tells me you're not from here. Even so, you have the same aura as us."

"Aura?"

The three ghosts nodded, the room around you suddenly going pitch-black. A soft glow came from the spirits and the second moved around you, covering your eyes with their transparent hands. Through their fingers you could see a similar glow coming from yourself.

"Something spirits can see about other spirits. Through a spirit, the living can see it as well. All Humans have this aura and it seems to magically impact the other species."

"I thought Humans didn't have magic?"

"We don't. We have something else, kind of like a natural armor or defense instead of magic. The way it impacts magic users is stronger than any of them realize. It's how we knew you were a Human for sure."

"Wait, I'm not from this world, why do I have this aura too?"

"We don't know. I think your world came from ours, or you somehow did. Not sure. All I need to know is you have somewhere to go back to. You shouldn't stay in this world with them, and we are willing to help you find home again."

You somewhat perked up at this, glad to hear the spirits intended to help you. The largest of the spirits gestured the mirrors.

"We can look around the different mirrors and see if one can send you back, but it takes time. We don't want to risk being seen."

"I wouldn't want you all being discovered because of me."

"We've been here a while, we can hide well enough."

"... Will you let me know if you find anything?"

"The moment we find something, we will try to tell you. Still, it's nice to see one of us alive."

"I have so many questions for all of you, if you'll indulge me."

"We can try to answer your questions, but there isn't much time. Once the others notice your absence, they will search."

"How does this 'aura' act as a defense? Does it deter or encourage-?"

The sound of movement, fast and frantic, met your ear. No doubt the Dragon awoke and was less than pleased to discover you were missing from the nest yet again. Since you left Grim there- fully intending to double back for him if shown the way to escape- they no doubt took your absence as a grave concern. You couldn't let them find the Human spirits.

Without another word you ducked out of the room, closing the door behind you as you turned towards where the sound had been. Frantically searching the various empty rooms was Malleus, his eyes glowing in the darkness as he glanced over another empty room. The floorboards creaked loudly beneath you, making his gaze snap over to you sharply, dark pupils expanding as they landed on your figure.

He was quick to approach you and examine your figure for any injury. When he saw you were unharmed he breathed out a long sigh of relief, those same eyes locking on you as a pout took over his lips. You would have laughed at the almost innocent look of displeasure but something told you Malleus would not appreciate the act very much. It was odd to think about, but Lilia told you during the feasting about Malleus and his proclivity to possessive behavior.

According to Lilia, all Dragons obsessed over their Hoard, to the point of violence towards others. Hoards were exclusive and built upon the personal taste of the Dragon, guarded as greedily as treasures and jewels. You were more prone to wandering than the other members of the Hoard and it distressed the Dragon to know you could wander off from his protection so easily.

"(Y/n), why must you insist on disappearing at all hours of the night? It was my understanding that most creatures are not nocturnal."

"Sorry, Tsuno, I couldn't sleep. Nightmares again..."

His hard expression softened at this, seeming more understanding with your vague explanation. The pair of wings lowered as he calmed and took in your relaxed presence, relaxing as well. Truthfully, he struggled to remain displeased with you and felt compelled to forgive as soon as he understood you were safe.

"I often find my own sleep to be restless most nights. It has been somewhat better, having my Hoard around me almost every evening thanks to you, but I too struggle with rest. You are always welcome to wake me if you cannot sleep. What were you doing this far into the dorm and away from your room?"

You avoided the question somewhat, instead trying to steer the conversation a different direction. Hopefully Malleus wouldn't press the issue as you had no desire to share your new secret with anyone just in case.

"Exploring to quiet my mind. Are all Fae nocturnal?"

"No. There are Night Fae and Day Fae. Lilia, Sebek, and I are Night Fae. Sebek is half-Fae technically, but still Night Fae all the same. Night Fae are typically nocturnal."

"... Tsuno, can we sit somewhere? Somewhere quiet, or even the roof would be fine, it feels too stuffy in here."

You were surprised when Malleus lifted you quickly, exiting the large window nearby. A startled cry escaped your lips in a squeak which only made the Dragon chuckle, carrying you up to the roof of Ramshackle with several beats of his wings. Sometimes you forgot Malleus was not Human and even forgot he was considered one of the most powerful in the world.

The Dragon hesitantly set you down, hands struggling to release you now that he was acutely aware of how high up you both were and how fragile you were compared to himself. His tail raised up to somewhat act like railing around you, ensuring there was no way you could fall as you both sat. It felt excessive for him to be so protective of you, but he still seemed much calmer now.

On the horizon, light slowly began to seep into the sky as the sun started the long tireless treck across the sky once more. Something about this place seemed so keen to wake you before the sun. As the stars flicked out of sight one by one, your nightmare from what feels like ages ago caressed the edges of your mind.

Your survival hinged upon staying around the monsters that were fond of you, but you needed to be alone to talk to the Human spirits without exposing them. A present need to be protected at all times yet what you truly wanted was kept at bay by that same protection. Freedom in a world that both cherished and despised you was a laughable concept.

Of course, this was also not to mention how none of your protectors seemed particularly mentally sound. Even the noble Malleus had this obsession to him, but then again it could just be the fact he is a Dragon. The words of the ghosts echoed in your mind as did the questions you were desperate to ask. Perhaps the reason these monsters acted the way they did was because of that aura the ghosts mentioned.

"Tsuno, how did you know I got up?"

"Your warmth lets me know you are alive and safe. Silver has a similar warmth, but many Fae do not have the same heat to them. The nest gets cold without you there warming it up. What I want to know is how you left the room without waking us. The doors and floors creak, you shouldn't be able to be so quiet."

You hummed, having wondered the same question. It was very likely that the ghosts of the past Humans have been aiding your escape from the nest. Truthfully, you had noticed how silent you had been while following the ghosts versus the loud floorboard creak when you approached Malleus.

"I don't know. I just got up and walked out. It didn't seem quiet to me-"

"MAMA!"

The sudden cry of a familiar voice had you sharply standing, Malleus following suit as your stress rised exponentially. That voice belonged to none other than Grim and it made your heart hurt horribly to hear the frantic wailing. Malleus was quick to grab you once more, ducking back into the window you came from.

You didn't even wait until Malleus had let you go before you wrenched yourself from his grasp and shot off down the hall. The crying continued and you almost threw yourself into the door to get to the sobbing kit. His paws covered his eyes and his wings smacked away Lilia's hands as the Bat was attempting to soothe him.

"Grim!"

"Mama!"

The Hellcat thew himself into your arms, snuggling and cuddling into your embrace as he sniffled and mewled pathetically. You were quick to hold securely to the little feline that hiccuped and sobbed.

"Grim, honey, what happened?"

"I w-woke- woke up, an-and- and you were- you were gone!"

"I'm sorry, sweetling. I had a bad dream and Tsuno was talking to me. We didn't want to wake any of you."

The kit sniffled, looking up at you with those large blue eyes as he pressed his cheek against your chest. His fur was fluffed and his eyes were swollen with tears as he used his small paws to grab your hand and rub against your fingers. You quickly picked up that he wanted to be pet, stroking the soft gray fur of his little head.

"So- so you're not- not leaving? Y-you're not ab-abandoning me?"

"No. I would never abandon you. If I planned to leave, I'm taking you with me. No way would I ever leave you behind like that. Never."

"Ne-never ever?"

"Never ever."

This seemed to be enough to soothe the sniffling Hellcat as he hiccuped and sniffled, cuddling into your warm arms and slowly quieting. As Grim calmed, you began to calm as well, cradling the little cat affectionately. Lilia cast a quick glance at Malleus, the two speaking with their eyes before he looked back at you, approaching slowly to not seem like a threat to you or your young Hellcat.

"He was frantic when he couldn't find you in the nest," Lilia started, peaking over at the kit, "I figured you were with Malleus, but he wasn't hearing any of it."

You just let the Bat speak as you continued to soothe Grim, kissing the kit's forehead. This made Grim slowly begin to purr, rubbing up against your hand affectionately. Even if you did find a way to escape with the help of the Spirits, you planned to always bring Grim with you. He was your Boy and you were his Mama, nothing could change that.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Not sure if you’d be into this butttt with the little cabin that Din just received - could we get like a glimpse of domestic life with din, reader, grogu, annndd maybe another kid or a kid on the way? Smut is welcome! But also it doesn’t have to have it

Ok hope you like the idea love you bye 😂

The Cabin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

rating: F (one mildly steamy line of dialogue but besides that just some domestic fluff)

wc: <1k

din masterlist

The days of sneaking glimpses of The Mandalorian when he’d come to the school you taught at to drop off and pick his son up were long gone by now, but standing on the porch of Din’s cabin that he insisted was now your cabin, you couldn’t help but stare.

Din was in the yard, sparring with Grogu to keep his apprentice’s skills sharp.

There wasn’t even a sliver of skin exposed, and yet he still looked like the sexiest man you’d ever seen. It was in the way he moved, the way he taught, the way he spoke to his child like every child wanted to be spoken to. He was just so…competent. A competent fighter, though he preferred to keep that side of himself far from you. A competent father, his devotion to Grogu running as deeply as his devotion to his Creed, perhaps even deeper. And Maker knows you can’t forget his competency as a lover—his skillful hands, his neediness, his attentiveness, his desire to make you feel good, it all made you feel drunk with adoration and lust.

“That’s enough for the day,” he announced through labored breathing, the child’s use of the force making the fight nearly fair. “You did good, kid.”

“You both did well,” you added from the porch, watching as Grogu leapt across the lawn towards you until you were bending down to pick him up. “Especially you.”

“He’s getting good,” Din said, meeting the two of you on the porch. “He’s a better fighter than most adults.”

“Well, he’s your son, after all,” you replied, looking into the black of Din’s visor. Din tilted his helmet at you, something you’d slowly learned to read as a smile, and reached to pinch your chin with his gloved hand. “Lunch is ready. You must be starving, little guy.” Grogu chirped and cooed in confirmation, his wide eyed look of excitement never failing to bring a smile to your face. Looking to Din, you lifted your hand to scratch his chin from beneath his helmet. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” he replied, low and husky.

“I’m talking about food,” you laughed and turned around to walk into the house with Grogu on your hip. Din let out the slightest of chuckles and followed you inside, the door closing behind him.

“Food sounds nice too, cyar’ika.”

Later on in the evening, you found yourself sitting beside Din on the bench in front of the cabin, the lid of his helmet lifted as he sipped on a drink. Your head rested on his shoulder, his armor off, and watched Grogu chase a frog around the yard.

“How’s the little one treating you today?” Din asked, his voice unmodulated and clearer than normal. You smiled down at your just-now swelling stomach and ran a hand over it.

“Treating me okay,” you answered. “Likes to kick when you talk.”

“Really?” he huffed a chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“I think it is,” you looked at him with a smile. “They’re just excited to meet their dad.”

“I’m excited to meet them, too,” he replied, soft and sincere, as though he were on the verge of tears. Turning back to face his child as he used the force to freeze the frog he’d been playing with and hover it back into his waiting hands, Din let out another chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, smiling.

“I just never…” He paused, looking back to you before closing the lid of his helmet, his voice becoming modulated again. “Just never thought I’d have all this.”

•

•

•

•

•

•

[theoraeeken]

Jee having fun with her uncles Buck & Tommy!

Maybe Buck feeling a little 🥰😍 watching Tommy being in 'competent dad mode', even though he's not ready for their own 😂

okay this is everything actually if season 8 doesn't give us tommy playing with jee and buck noticably ovulating across the room i will riot

bucktommy / rated g / mild warning for non serious accidental injury to a child

-

"-and take a nice, deep breath for me. This is going to sting a little, okay?"

It takes a few seconds for Buck's brain to come back online as he re-enters his apartment. It's been a quiet day so far, as quiet as any day off looking after his curious, hyperactive niece can be. They'd watched some TV, leaving some irritating cartoon pop song ingrained in his head, probably for the next week at least. Had some lunch. Afterwards, Jee-Yun had proclaimed her desire for ice cream with all the certainty of a biblical saint. Buck, a little soft hearted from an easy day surrounded by people he loves, agreed to go to the shop in search of some.

Maybe it's lulled him into a false sense of security, because he stares at the scene in his kitchen with a blank expression for a full three seconds before he galvanizes into action.

Jee's up on the kitchen counter, a little teary eyed, her bottom lip wobbling, blood trickling down her skinny calf.

"Woah, woah, hey," he says, rushing to Tommy's side, where he's crouched in front of the counter, "What happened?"

"Someone," he says, eyeing the slightly sheepish looking girl, "decided to ignore me when I said running full pelt around the place would end in tears."

"I'm sorry, Tommy," Jee says, her voice shaking.

"It's okay, chica. You're not in trouble. Tripped over the rug," he adds lowly to Buck, "Limbs everywhere, slid five feet, the whole ten yards."

Now he's a little closer up, he can see that. Her knee is all scraped up, a messy graze, but nothing deep. There's a little mark on her elbow, but no blood. Kids bounce, Hen once told him. Buck kinda wishes Jee would stop trying to test that theory out on him though.

"Now, stay nice and still while I get this cleaned up, okay sweetheart?" Tommy eases, turning his attention back to Jee, the full effect of his Cool And Unphased Firefighter Pilot shtick aimed at a tiny little person who doesn't even have a fully developed concept of consequence yet. It feels unfair. Buck's a whole ass adult and it's enough to make him spacy, "Do you know what this is?"

Jee looks from the antibacterial wipe in his hand, to Buck, and back to Tommy nervously, "No."

"This is a special kind of cloth that can get all the yucky stuff out of your cut, get it nice and clean."

"Like soap?"

"Kinda like soap, yeah," he nods, smiling, "It's gonna hurt a little bit, but that's how you know it's working. Ready?"

She nods, hands fisting in the skirt of her pink dress anxiously. Tommy swipes over the graze of her cut quickly and gently, efficient but effective.

"Brave girl, Jee," Buck murmers, rubbing a hand soothingly up her arm.

"Yes, she is," Tommy agrees, "Now, I'm going to put a plaster on this. Hold still for me-" She holds herself dutifully, solid like a rock, as Tommy smooths the dressing over the knee. It's probably overkill, but Buck knows that the power of belief in healing is almost as important as the actual healing bit.

"You did so good, Jee," Buck says, straightening up to plant a kiss in her hair. She giggles, grasping at him with her pudgy hands, "And so did you," he says, kissing him on the cheek. Jee shrieks with laughter the way she always does when Buck dares to show any kind of affection to anyone but her.

"Now, you," Tommy says, sweeping Jee off the counter, "Get settled on the couch, because it looks like your Uncle Evan got some cookie dough vanilla that's got your name all over it, kid."

Jee's face splits with a grin so wide it looks like it might hurt, then throws her arms around Tommy's neck, burrowing her face in his shoulder with a happy little sound, "Thank you, Uncle Tommy," The words are muffled into the collar of his shirt, but Tommy clearly hears loud and clear if the way his face scrunches up in delight is any indication.

Something heavy and dense swoops straight through the middle of Buck's core, through his chest and out through his stomach. Too much, too fast, too soon. Tommy gives Jee a final squeeze, swaying her a little so her tiny legs flop around, giggling happily until he puts her back down.

Jee cuddles up with a pillow on the couch, something that looks like elves on an acid trip playing on the TV while Tommy washes his hands and puts the first aid kit back in the cupboard and Buck gets three bowls of cookie dough ready for a good ol' fashioned sugar binge.

"She adores you."

Tommy looks up, even as Buck keeps his eyes resolutely on the ice cream.

"She's got a big heart," he says fondly, before adding, "Must be a Buckley family trait."

"She's a good kid," Buck grins, turning to look over at Jee, hugging one of the sofa cusions to her chest, so big against her that she can rest her chin on it.

"Yeah. Do you want kids?"

The ice cream scoop skids across the counter out of Buck's hand when he jerks in surprise.

Tommy laughs quietly, ducking his head to kiss his shoulder, "Not right now, Evan. Just... curious. You're good with her."

"So are you," he fires back. He knows he's being stupid, that he's acting defensive, and he doesn't even know what about. Jesus, he sucks when someone catches him off guard, "Do you want kids?"

It doesn't look like it bothers Tommy, who just grins like he knows better than to take Buck's knee-jerk panic personally. Probably because he does.

"Yeah. One day."

Buck can't help smiling back, "Yeah. One day."

They all squeeze onto the couch, Jee tucked in between them with enough sugar shovelling into her mouth for Maddie to have reasonable justification to murder him later. It's probably not how he would have described his ideal afternoon, but he can't find fault in it.

[gloryofroses19]

Johnny Boy

“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.  

“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep. 

“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette.  “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.” 

Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back.  “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.” 

“It was a joke!” 

“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground. 

“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.  

“You know all about romance, right Major?”  

With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.

Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand. 

“She read me a book and colored with me!” 

Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans,  the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would. 

“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!” 

However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.” 

Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!” 

“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.” 

With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly . 

“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield.  She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee. 

“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.  

Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look. 

John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?” 

“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.

Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!” 

John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head. 

Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more. 

“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.  

“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child. 

“Interrogation, Egan!” 

Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute. 

“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”

Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!” 

Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.” 

Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions. 

Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down. 

“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear. 

“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long. 

“Get in the truck, Egan.”  Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed.  One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself.  “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.

Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed. 

Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope. 

“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.  Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth. 

“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit. 

With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.” 

John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him. 

“Johnny!” 

Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder. 

“Why you little….”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!

[canisalbus]

It's probably fair to say that, as a child, Machete's goal was to just survive. Even as a young adult, survival obviously remained a principle goal.

But slowly, over time, he gained power, and is now a cardinal. He no longer struggles to fend off death (weakened constitution notwithstanding.) He probably still sees himself as trying to survive day-to-day, but clearly it becomes more than that, even if he's not fully cognizant of it.

I guess what I'm wondering is, besides "survival", what are Machete's goals? As a cardinal or otherwise. What prevents him from leaving or resigning his post? Does he have aspirations other than Vasco? Does he see himself as subservient to God, or is it something else?

I'd say his aspirations are pretty mundane. Security and stability are probably the biggest priorities overall, financially and health-wise. He doesn't thrive in unreliable and unpredictable surroundings. The fact that he knows he will have his basic needs met for the foreseeable future, there are people ready to prepare him a warm bath at a moment's notice, a reputable doctor to look after him, and armed guards that are never too far away, eases his mind considerably. A large part of his work revolves around routine, carefully crafted plans and immutable etiquette, with relatively few unpleasant surprises. He's so high in the hierarchy that very few people can treat him disrespectfully and get away with it.

He wants to prove that he's capable, competent and useful. His deeply rooted inferiority complex (that largely stems from the demeaning and belittling way his mentor treated him when he was his apprentice) has made him a lifelong overachiever, which in turn has served him well in his career. He's ambitious and driven but I wouldn't call him power-hungry in an egoistical way, he can come across as overbearing but it's because he's a perfectionist control freak who's obsessed with doing his job well and has a tendency to think most people around him aren't up to the task. He isn't in it for fame and wealth in itself, it's more about having a purpose that makes you worthy of respect.

On a more personal level he's passionate about reading, studying and learning. Partly because he's inquisitive and genuinely enjoys it, knows he's good at it and feels good about being good at it, but also because he wants to be the most learned, most cultured and most academic person in the room. Not necessarily for bragging rights, but to feel like being smart will always keep him one step ahead of the others and that way no one can pull the rug from under his feet.

He would never be able to afford the things he wears and the luxuries he has access to if his life hadn't taken the exact turns it did. He spent his early childhood in a monastery and was trained by a priest who valued asceticism and self-denial so he didn't have a lot of nice things growing up. Now as a high ranking church official he has more spending money than he could've imagined, and while he has an expensive taste, he oftentimes fails to enjoy the benefits of his status properly. He has a comfortable home with a massive bed, but it's not uncommon for him to sleep in his office or forgo rest completely. Even though he could be savoring the rarest most complex dishes every day, there aren't a lot of foods he likes eating. He would like to look pretty but even his outlandishly costly and carefully tailored silk garments can't redeem the fact he doesn't feel comfortable in his skin.

He can't resign because his sense of self-worth and lifestyle are tied to his job. It's the one thing he's demonstrably skilled at. He's worked himself to the bone to get where he is now and the prospect of losing it is simply unfathomable. He doesn't have ties to his biological family and his friends are few and far between, if he gave up his position he'd have functionally no one to rely on but Vasco. On top of that he does feel like he owes his life to the church and serving it to his best ability is his lot in life. His state of faith and relationship with God is complicated at best but he's nonetheless terrified of what might happen and how he might be punished if he ever chose to abandon his post.

[hyperlexichypatia]

What some of y'all call "recovery" and "healing" is just... growing up.

The theme I keep coming back to, the theme I keep writing about over and over, is the inextricability of ableism (specifically neurobigotry) and ageism.

The pathologizing of youth. The infantilizing of disabled adults. The structuring and micromanaging of childhood leading to ever more opportunities for "deviancy" to be classified as "disordered." The "neurological" push to raise the age of majority. The constant framing of disabled parents and caregivers as "unfit" or "bad influences" on children. And on and on.

Ageism and neurobigotry are such an interconnected tangle loop mobius strip that people are using the "healing"/"recovery" framework for basic human maturation.

When you were little, you uncritically accepted the worldview of your parents and other adults in your life, but now that you're older and "recovered," you see it differently?

That's called growing up. You grew up.

When you had less information and experience informing your worldview, you saw things one way, and now that you've "healed," you see things differently?

That's called learning. You learned new information and changed your perspective accordingly.

Look, learning and change and growth and maturation are (or should be) lifelong processes with no endpoint, and one of the cultural factors making people so weird about "maturity" and age of majority issues is the assumption that a "Real Adult" is in their fixed final form. So people think "If I've changed and grown in the past 5 years, that means that 5-years-ago Me was Still A Child and should not have been allowed to make major life-altering decisions," and also think that once they reach An Endpoint, they can or should stop changing. And that's a problem.

But. But. Changes in one's relationship to oneself and one's family of origin are especially common during times of major transition. That's not pathological. That's not even abnormal. If you see the world differently than you did before a major life transition, that does not mean that you went from a diseased state to a nondiseased state ("recovery"), or from an injured state to an uninjured state ("healing"). Time passed. You got older. Everyone else got older. You changed. Other people changed. Your family changed. The social context in which you live changed. The pathology paradigm has no place in this phenomenon.

People are out here saying that "People should heal themselves before they have their own children," and then when asked, what they mean by "heal themselves" is "learn how to effectively communicate with children." That. That is a skill. Learning a skill is not "healing." Lack of a particular skill set is not a disorder you have to "recover" from. You just have to learn the skill.

But that's also why when we say "You don't have to recover from your disabilities, recovery isn't a moral obligation," people say things like "You want to use your disability as an excuse not to change and grow."

My good bitch, what does change and growth have to do with recovery?

And this isn't even a new observation, because people have talked about how parents of developmentally disabled children will credit "therapy" and "recovery" for their children's natural developmental trajectory (if your child gained a skill after a year of intensive therapy, that doesn't mean "the therapy worked," that means they got older and developed the maturation to acquire that skill). A lot of the rhetoric around early childhood education does the same thing (the reason your 6 year old can hold a pencil now and he couldn't last year is because his bones got stronger and his fine motor skills improved, not because his high-quality preschool made him ready to compete).

But this. This is adults doing it to themselves! And it's so very original-sin-coded. You are born Unhealthy, but through continual effort and right practice, you can Recover and Heal.

No! You just grew up!

[tumblingxelian]

There's this ridiculous narrative that going on in both RWBY subreddit: fans and critics alike are saying that Yang's memory is flawed (or even that she was lying) when she said that she basically had to raise Ruby herself when Tai shut down after Summer died. Their main argument is "Yang was 5! She couldn't even take care of herself, much less a toddler!"

Several works of fiction have five-year-olds whose parents are neglectful, emotionally defeated, or even abusive taking care of themselves just fine, like Matilda (Matilda Wormwood), Persona 4 (Nanako Dojima), and Kotaro Lives Alone (Kotaro Satou). Why are they willing to give them a pass for doing that, while saying that it's impossible in RWBY?

Yang's conversation with Tai before her sparring match in V4 doesn't work if this was the case.

I'm actually insulted by this argument because the mother of my oldest cousin was a complete and utter bitch who divorced my uncle, and cheated him out of as many supervised visits as she could by working overtime whenever she could. Combined with the fact that she worked an 8 to 8 job, my cousin had to teach herself how to cook, do laundry, change her bedsheets, and get herself ready for school since neither my uncle nor her mother were heavily involved in her life, kind of like Matilda, Nanako, and Kotaro. Gee, it's almost like fiction is at least somewhat based on reality. What a concept!

Sorry if I got a little rambly, but my cousin's experience and my own experience as an older brother cause this argument to REALLY make me angry.

I've had endless debates across Reddit, YouTube, Tumblr and forums alike with people who hold that exact stance and it is never not utterly asinine.

Even if we ignore the factual reality that lots of children, even very young one's often end up parentified and left grappling with adult responsibilities as a small child.

Which I need to stress we should not ignore and the fact these people do shows just how willfully ignorant they are being.

The fact of the matter is it makes no narrative, character or thematic sense for her to be wrong about this!

Like, really, what is the narrative end goal in these people's brains, to have one of the main characters most overtly emphasized sources of trauma. Not only brought up by herself but by the sister she had to raise. Be wrong?

It makes every scene discussing it, every aspect of her character it informs, every bit if dialogue that touched on it utterly meaningless. CRWBY don't have that kind of time to waste on a red herring that serves literally Zero purpose!

But of course these people don't give two fried fucks about things like basic common sense or competent writing.

They want Yang to be delusional or lying because in their mind the fact she 'dared' be traumatized, 'dared' to be something other than a ditsy party girl and 'dared' be even indirectly critical of a man, of her father, is an insult to them.

Thus they want to ignore what's on screen, what the writers say, what the characters say, what reality says about situations exactly like this to erase her trauma and depth, All our a blend of sexist offence and misogynistic defensiveness of a minor male character.

It sucks but then, since wen hasn't RWDE been awful?

On your example:

Extremely well said, very good examples, I would also add Gohan from Dragon Ball surviving in the wilderness for a full year at the age of 3/4/5 depending on translations.

There's so many conversations tat make no coherent sense if Yang was wrong, but as said, these people don't care about good writing.

My sympathies and respect to your cousin and exactly, reality is often stranger than fiction and frankly this fictional scenario isn't even that strange sadly :/

I am right there with you for my own reasons, it sucks!

Literally the only area in which one can reasonably argue that Yang might be somewhat misinformed I thin is in relation to what exactly was going on in Ruby's head at the time.

IE, believing she didn't understand what was going on yet. That doesn't actually undercut any of her own experiences, but could be the case as it seems Ruby's memories of those early days are perhaps clearer tan Yang realizes.

Of course this changes nothing about Yang being parentified from an incredibly young age, because Ruby herself outright said Yang raised her.

[emeritusemeritus]

One for George and y/n: Easter egg hunting at the Burrow with all the Weasleys (George's siblings and their children)

Such a cute idea! 🖤

Warnings: Minor swearing, mentions of pregnancy, cute Weasley fun and fluff.

Words: 1.3k

Easter Bunny's gift.

Easter at the Burrow was always one of the things you looked forward to the most, especially now you had children of your own with George.

Ever since the first grandchild had arrived, Molly and Arthur had started a wonderful tradition of a magical Easter egg hunt on the land surrounding the house.

Your daughters were 5 and 3, both now at the age that they took the egg hunt very seriously, especially as they were essentially competing against their cousins. George had given them tips before hand, because of course he had, and you'd arrived at the Burrow with two very excited children. And a very excited husband, who had been to set up the race with Arthur earlier that morning, no doubt putting his own mischievous twist on the egg hunt.

The wonderful thing about Molly and Arthur having seven children was that as you all grew up, the number of family members inevitably doubled and then tripled, at least. Siblings, spouses, children, cousins; everyone packed in to the space you'd always loved, the heart of the family- the Burrow.

You were immediately greeted by most of the Weasley siblings and their partners, the kids all chasing each other and giggling in glee with squeals of delight echoing through the open fields. Bill and Fleur, Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny, all of them stood around tables of food and drink that you knew Molly would have agonised over all morning. You couldn't see Percy or Audrey but you could see little Molly and Lucy running around with Victoire, Rose and Lily and so assumed that they were around somewhere. It was always funny to see the entire family gathered together, the sea of Red hair only broken up by a few blonde and brunette children running around.

"Rory! Poppy!" Dominique squeals in excitement, spotting your daughters and immediately falling into an excited conversation that was almost too high for adults to hear, their excited squeals and giggles so loud it almost made you wince. She pauses briefly to flash you a smile, missing her two front teeth. "Hi aunt y/n, hi unky George! Come on, Granny's got toffee!"

Now child free, George smiles at you as he takes your hand and leads you down the path towards the Burrow, greeting his family with warmth. You mingle through the crowd until you make your way inside, offering Molly some help in the kitchen.

"Oh y/n dear, you just get prettier!" She says with a wide and motherly smile, approaching you with hands outstretched as she pulls you in for a tight hug. She's all dressed up in her most vibrant colours, a glittery beret clip in her hair with the signature apron tied around her waist.

"Right, almost time!" Molly says with delight as she steps outside, giving Arthur a little nod who claps his hands together and smiles, walking off towards the back lawn.

You shoot George a little smile as you look over at your daughters, huddled together with the other cousins almost bouncing with excitement. Molly had made a ridiculous number of little eggs for the children, some with chocolate, marshmallow, toffee, everything that would keep your girls up way past their bedtime if they ate too much.

"Right Weasleys," Arthur says, taking lead of the gaggle of excitable children. "Two rules only. Number 1, share and be mindful of your cousins, we want everyone to have fun. Number 2, grab as much as you can! Ready... set.... Go!"

Just as Arthur said the words, a little firework shot up into the sky which transformed into the shape of a bunny in the sky, the words 'this way' scrawled out next to it as it moved towards the start line that Arthur had made. Your mouth opened in disbelief and turned towards your husband who was putting his wand back in his pocket with a mischievous grin. He turned to you and gave you a little wink, little butterflies erupting in your tummy at the look even after all these years.

With a resounding squeal of excitement, the children ran off, following the rabbit, each of them clutching their little baskets ready to swoop on the eggs that had been meticulously placed by their grandad. You watched and laughed as they giggled, all of them picking up little eggs and slinging them into their baskets.

Some were suspended in the air by magic, others tucked into trees and the ground as normal. George had jinxed the tree near the border to rain eggs when the kids ran under it. You laughed as you watched Hugo and Albus scream in sheer delight when they stepped under the tree and hundreds of little eggs rained down on them, dropping into their baskets. They immediately called the girls over to look at what had just happened, all fo the adults watching beginning to laugh when the girls also squealed out in delight as the eggs rained down on them.

"Y/n, can you please watch Louis whilst I go to the loo?" Fleur said from beside you, her French accept as strong at ever, holding out baby Louis, his little blanket covered body making him look like a beautiful little bundle.

"Of course I can," you say with a smile, readily accepting your youngest nephew into your arms, he was crying a little, whimpering and trying to break free from the blanket. Fleur thanked you profusely as she handed over her youngest before walking quickly back to the house.

"Ssssh, it's okay sweetheart, your mummy will be back soon," you coo, assuring little Louis as you rocked him in your arms. He was beautiful, a little patch of striking blonde hair beginning to grow on his head. You adjusted his blankets just slightly to keep his fingers in and swayed with him in your arms as you watched your daughters giggling from higher up the field. The enchanted bunny firework had started dancing around the kids, dodging them and attempting to steal their eggs making them all giggle.

When you looked down at Louis, he was asleep, his eyes closed and looking the definition of comfy, all snuggled in his warm and soft blanket.

"I'll never get over how much that suits you," you hear your husband say, appearing behind you, looking down at the baby in your arms.

"Oh yeah?" You smile, looking up at him as his arm slips onto your shoulder, his lips descending upon your hair to press a gentle kiss just above your ear.

"I think it's your best look," he pauses, "though I do like you pregnant too."

"Well... I'd say you're in luck Mr Weasley," you say with a glint in your eye, watching as his eyes light up even more than the kids collecting their chocolate once he realises what you were telling him.

"What do you think? I think a little boy would be a nice addition," you say, looking down at the sleeping little boy in your arms, imagining one of your own.

"I'll have a word with the Easter bunny," George says with a smirk, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you sharing a little moment.

"No way Hermione," you hear from the side, Ron's dead set voice drawing your attention away from George.

"Oh come on Ron!" Hermione says, getting frustrated with him. "For Hugo and Rose."

"You're not transfiguring me into a bloody rabbit!"

[funficwriter]

A Wolf And A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

A little dark fairy tale I want to write~

A/N: GOOD GOLLY I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS! First off, let me warn you that this is a multi-chapter story. Each one gets more and more dark, this is just the light stuff (in comparison to what I have planned). I will do my best to have C2 out ASAP, but as I'm a grad student, it might be a while. But be assured that I am very excited for this story, so I'll do my best to write loads for it!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings for this chapter: Sexist marriage system, yandere Wriothesley, kinda OOC Wriothesley, yandere fem!reader, mention of sexual blackmailing (1)

Chapter 1: A Breakthrough

As a child, you loved reading. Your parents would worry about it, because while being articulate and cultured were good and necessary, you were still a girl of one of Fontaine's royal families. They didn't want you asking questions you should not, but all they could do was limit your selection by a margin you wouldn't doubt.

You liked fairy tales of all sorts. They were so intriguing through several concepts. The one that got the lion's share of your attention was love. So many of your stories ended the same way that made you warm and fuzzy: The girl is reunited with the boy she loves, he declares the same, and they're together forever. How sweet!

When you asked further about love, you'd get one of two answers. The first was: "Look at your mother and father. That's love.". However, it failed to satisfy you; While they were courteous to each other, and even made contact every now and then, they were so... Cold in comparison to your fairy tales. The dissonance could confuse an adult, never mind a child.

The second was: "Love is essentially your marriage! Once you're a little older, you'll have suitors competing for your hand, and one will be your love!".

Marriage. A funny little word that you so desperately wanted to understand beyond the technical definition. Being the daughter of a baron, you were practically raised with the word more than your parents telling you that they loved you. While a baron was among the lower royal titles, it was still a part of Fontainian royalty. Ergo, you had to take marriage seriously. Of course, marrying above your father's rank (cough, cough- A high-ranked Count or Duke-) was a pinnacle of success.

When you came of age, many predicted that you'd fare well. You were quite pretty, and with the elite tutoring you have received, you were poised, graceful... You were ready to socialize not as the baron's cute daughter, but as the lovely young Lady Balthazar, considering suitors.

Only, they missed one thing. That perfect girl I mentioned would care about love, but being a good girl, she'd prioritize standing, finances, power and the like beyond it. While you liked being taken care of, that wasn't enough. You wanted to marry like the girls in fairy tales. For your world being flipped upside down in the most beautiful way. For love.

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

"Oh, remember Baron Balthazar's little daughter? She's now a maiden!".

"I saw her! She had truly inherited her grandmother's legendary beauty! I nearly choked when I first saw her-".

"And her mind is just as gorgeous! Earlier, we got to talk about Fontainian literature. I've never met such a cultured girl her age!".

It's not like you hated the praises. The party as a whole was just that: Okay. You met many unwed nobles, each being more shocked with you. With each one, your father beamed a little brighter, your mother squealed a little higher, to the point where you started questioning if there was a time where they were this happy with you.

"The nobles are enamored. Many are Dukes or Counts! This is going better than I imagined!".

Your mother turned to you: "Well, dear? Aren't you happy? Not many maidens have the opportunity to brag about bagging such important persons as you did.".

Again, nothing wrong with the (potential) suitors in particular. Everyone was nice and well-mannered, some even interesting to talk to. You'd love to have such friends, and that was your issue; Your feelings towards them did not go beyond: "I'd like being his friend.". No spark of attraction, no coup de foudre, nothing that could kickstart the feeling of love you wanted to chase, yet seldom had an idea of. With time, this would get boring. Would you really have to marry someone you found boring?

Alas, you knew the answer deep down. Unless the best suitor was also someone you fell for, you'd be lucky to go with someone you kinda liked. As you grew older, you realized that most marriages within your class were business deals, not affairs of love. Your own mother admitted that she married your father to consolidate the union between the two families.

When you were younger, you often asked her if she loved him. She'd say 'yes' without a second thought. Now, as you were heading into this, she'd tell you: "Yes, but what does it matter next to the benefits you enjoy today?".

"Mother, can I please go grab a cupcake? I didn't eat yet.".

"Alright then! Just remember, be sociable and talk as much as you can, and eat gracefully! Just like we said, and-"

"I will, I promise!".

The last thing you felt like was another etiquette lesson. At least you had some luck with food; There was one more chocolate cupcake left, and no one else seemed interested. Perhaps it would cheer you up a bit.

Celestia works in funny ways, though. Just as you reached out for it, another gloved hand landed on its other side, immediately stopping with yours. Despite your hunger, your attention diverted to the silver glove. All the men here were nobles, so he had to be too. You never saw one wearing chains and a wolf as an insignia, of all animals.

"Oh... Forgive me, I-"

Once you heard that baritone, there was no going back. You looked up to see a man quite unlike the preppy nobles you had to entertain all night. His scarred, rough appearance enthralled you more, for it was unlike anything you ever saw. And perhaps it was out of unfamiliarity, but you thought him quite gorgeous in comparison to the others.

"Oh, erm- Good evening, my Lord! Terribly sorry if I interrupted your break...".

"...No, no. It's fine, young lady, you can have it.".

"But... Um..."

The ensuing awkwardness was unbearable, but an idea emerged into your head. You split the cupcake, making sure it didn't crumb too much, then handed him one half: "Here you go, my Lord.".

He revealed a stunned expression, as if seeing something for the first time. Then he smiled and accepted the half. The grin was the most beautiful you saw on a man. It made your heart beat faster, and despite the fall, you felt stuffy and hot in that moment.

Just what the hell was going on?

"Um... May I inquire as to who you might be?".

"Of course, young Lady Balthazar. I am Wriothesley, from the Fortress of Meropide.".

You almost choked upon hearing his name. That's Duke Wriothesley! Is he? When you heard of him, you imagined a scary, much older man who didn't socialize much. On the rare occasion he did, he'd probably be left alone, with no social opportunity. And yet here you were, sharing a cupcake with him, accepting his leaning into you to listen... Among his tousled hair, the wolf ears perked your interest, too.

"I see! Forgive my surprise. It's just that I only ever heard of you."

"Don't worry, I understand.".

He was so... Appealing. You wanted those icy eyes on you. You wanted the excitement, the joy they cause by being posed on you. The only way to do that was have his attention. So you were done with awkwardness for now, and decided to try to chat.

"So, what brings you out on this fine night, Your Grace?".

"As you see, I spend most of my time in the Fortress. I don't socialize much, but I thought I needed a change of scenery.".

"That's good for the soul, I presume. How do you feel about the festivities?".

That grin was going to be the death of you, but better that than boredom. On one hand, you hoped you wouldn't be diagnosed with palpitations by the end of the night. On the other, you'd happily have a heart attack if it meant he smiled at you more.

"I should be asking you that. You're the star of this party, are you not? As soon as I walked in, all I heard was raving about the Balthazars' youngest daughter.".

"But there are many young, pretty girls walking around. Any of them could be the lady in question. How did you know it was me?".

"Accurate descriptions. I also heard the young Lady Balthazar is of the court's most empathetic. One sharing her favorite pastry sounds like that.".

You were having such a good time with him. You couldn't help laughing: "To be fair, I wouldn't want anyone to be deprived of chocolate when it's there.".

It was his turn to chuckle.

Please never stop laughing, or talking, or breathing. Please keep leaning my way. Please keep liking chocolate so we can share. Actually, stay with me for the rest of the night. Oh Focalors, please please please let him send Father a declaration of courting, and let him approve because I don't see a ring and I don't know why I like him so much-

As you carried on friendly conversation, something in you kept the train of thought going. You liked this man a lot... More than many other men you've met. More than any other man, maybe. He was funny, for one. He had no problem eliciting laughter from you. Like all the other nobles, he liked tea and music and engaged in politics. But he asked you lots of questions and heard you out. You even tried detecting a hint of surprise or disgust that you occasionally received, had you talked too much; None was found.

The real sealer was when he liked literature. But unlike the other nobles, he didn't just read the few titles that trended or made a name. He read, and so did you.

"This is the first time I've told someone I like lycanthrope literature and received a kind response.".

"And it's my first time seeing someone be appreciative of lycanthrope artistic culture, especially the books. Have you read Tale of a Toy-Making Werewolf? What did you think of the ending?".

He was amazing. He was awesome and charming and everything good. You were about to voice out your thoughts, until you heard murmurs behind you that maybe were meant to be heard.

"Not to be judgmental, but young Lady Balthazar has spent quite a bit of time with Lord Wriothesley...".

"Earlier she talked with many other fine gentlemen, like Duke Archandelle or Count Evermore... Why is she sticking onto him, of all people? I mean, he's a fine gentleman, but you know how it looks for a maiden...".

"Hehehe! I wonder what Baron Balthazar will think of this arrangement?".

His ears perked up at the gossip, and for the first time throughout your encounter, he scowled. He couldn't do so at them, lest your name gets dragged in worse mud. He liked you a lot, too much to make you get in trouble for him. But by the stars, how he wanted to. After years of stillness, he found someone who just... Understood him. Liked him off the bat, showed promise of the greater bond he's been looking for, for years. Then here comes those stupid 'good, high class girl' rules to halt your interaction.

Celestia, he looks terrifying and gorgeous.

"Listen, if you wish to take some distance, please don't feel ashamed about it. I understand how... Ruthless the rules for socializing are for a blossoming lady.".

"No.".

Your look towards the gossipers barely lasted a minute, as if they were barely worth your gaze. You looked back up at him: "I want to stay with you, but I'm not sure how. Oh. Wait...".

You took off to your mother's, and made it a point to say hi to Count Evermore again, just for good measure. A part of you couldn't believe you were doing this, screaming at you to abort the plan. You could get in trouble if you were found out, but hey, they wanted you to meet men and marry. You wanted to marry someone you loved. Maybe with time, you could find a middle ground, starting with this action.

"Mom, I talked to Count Evermore again.".

"Wonderful, wonderful, dear! Be sure to give some attention to Duke Arya, and-".

"I will, but I might faint from the stuffy air. I just need a minute in the powder room to fix myself up.

She didn't look too pleased, half expecting this: "But you were gone just now.".

"But I socialized, and I will continue once I'm back.".

"Well, alright then. I guess you should take a minute to look nice. Be back sooner than Duke Arya leaves.".

You took off, desperate to find Wriothesley again. You had to entertain a few nobles, but did so meagerly. You didn't want them. You wanted Duke Wriothesley, Lord of the Fortress of Meropide, Keeper of Justice and (not officially but kinda by existing) Advocate for Hybrid Rights.

Speak of the devil, he appeared in your vision again. He immediately lost interest in the art in front of him. You nodded towards the door and took off before anyone else could huddle you up.

Oh. Oh, he got it. You weaseled a way and some time for you. Truly, there's more to you than what meets the eye. He loved how such an angelic-looking, (supposedly) pure noble girl could lie as such to see him. The smirk at the thought did not leave his face.

"I know the roof is pretty private, Your Grace. Let's head there.".

"Actually, there's a stop I wanted to make first. Follow me.".

You both headed off to the kitchen. You were a little confused at the choice. It was still crowded, so you could get caught. He told you to wait outside for a bit.

"Wriothesley! We could get caught here!".

This was far too amusing. Far too much.

"First, you pay more attention to one man over everyone else in the ballroom, during your own coming of age party. Then, you lie to your parents to spend extra unchaperoned time with that man. After that, you call him by his first name in the same night. You haven't ceased to surprise me, little maiden.".

Your first instinct was to be ashamed. He had a point; Your behavior was not that of the pristine lady you had to be. But when you gathered your courage and looked up, he was smiling. Any other noble would either be fuming, ready to snitch on you, or blackmailing you through... Unsavory means. He smiled like troublemakers do when they carry something out successfully.

In retrospect, that's what you were doing right now.

"We will go to the roof, but just wait for me. For a few minutes. Since you got us out, I promise you won't get caught here. I'll be quick.".

He retreated into the kitchen. Your mind barely had the time to entertain scary thoughts of getting caught, because he came back just as quick, carrying a black package. You both took off for the roof.

As soon as you got there, you both sat down. Wriothesley undid the package in front of you. Right before the contents were revealed, he couldn't help his grinning, thinking of your reaction. Just when was the last night someone made him smile this much?

"What is it?".

"Your parents ought to look into better catering for their next party.".

In the box were cupcakes, truffles, cookies and many other chocolate desserts. Dark, white, mild, you name it.

You burst out into laughter, much to his initial confusion. You laughed so hard, you could barely speak, until you caught your breath: "This is the first time I hear of a prison lord stealing sweets!".

He realized the comic element and joined in on your laughter, unsure what surprised him more: The girl underneath the 'fancy' facade, or how much fun he was having. How he missed it. How he wanted to have it everyday. It was clearer and clearer; He could make that happen, if you were his. Once he courted you, (hopefully) got your father's approval and married you, you two could laugh and have chocolate and talk about whatever the hell you wanted everyday. Until you died. Forever.

After you calmed down, you ate and talked more about books. He offered to loan you some from his own library, and you might have just been book buddies. If it weren't for you remembering your mother's 'imposed' countdown, you would have forgotten the very concept of time. What did it matter when you finally felt your heroines' red cheeks, and excitement burgeoning deep within?

"Y/N...".

"Yes?".

Both of you laid down, even if it meant risking your looks. The tiredness that took over your bodies did not stop the bullet-fire chatting between you two. However, his sudden lower tone made you feel special. All through the night, he was your 'partner in crime', and you felt like he was going to let you in on a conspiratorial secret.

"Do you have a private mailbox? Can I have your code, and you can have mine?".

The question. His rough tone. His hair, swept over his face. Above all, the fact that he wanted to talk to you further.

Your little heart burst on the spot.

YES! YES! YES, HAVE IT ALL!

"Sure. But you know, our correspondence would have to be a bit... Er, hidden. Depending on what happens.".

"I'll be forward. I don't think I can carry on without the contact I had tonight. In this one night, I had so much fun, I found what I was looking for for years. I know you found me stealing sweets rather comical, but believe me, I have long renounced petty crime.".

"I noticed. Wouldn't it have been easier to just buy them? Or ask the chef? I mean, you're a Duke, I doubt they can refuse you.".

"Perhaps. Though I'll be honest, I partly did it because you looked so sad when they ran out of chocolate.".

Once again, you laughed. It was such a trivial matter, but it had you thinking; If he cares this much about it, what would he do for greater ones?

He stood up and held out his hand to help you. One more look at the stars prompted his thoughts.

"I'll be sending Baron Balthazar a declaration of courting. While I may be a little different from the other nobles he may be expecting, I am still a Duke, and an important component of Fontaine's justice. I'm sure that will help me. And then... We can meet more. That's a good start.".

"Wriothesley... Please, please do. Tonight was nothing short of magical. If we can make it happen, I'll be the happiest girl in all of Fontaine. And I promise I'll be a good wife, and-".

He chuckled: "Slipping back into your manners, I see."

Only when you made it back and went your separate ways, so as to not cause suspicion, did your heart fill up with your usual boredom and gloom. He was not by your side anymore. Soon enough, Duke Arya gave you his boring talk of how gorgeous you are and his accomplishments. Like all the other men, nothing like Wriothesley. You only saw him once more, where he barely paid attention to you.

If looks could kill, Duke Arya would have been mutilated on the floor. You thought you saw him angry at the gossipers, that was nothing. No, this was all the rage, all the offense that could only be expressed by something beyond human. His hands clenched until a loud 'CLANG!' could be heard across the roof. Wine, glass and a bit of blood fell onto the floor.

"Lord Wriothesley broke a glass!".

"Well, he's not entirely human, is he? I hear... His kind are prone to these things.".

That barely mattered to Duke Arya, and less him. He couldn't have cared less before he started talking to you. Now that he took your eyes, your words, all of you, he was only a bit worse than the criminals at the Fortress. Much later did he calm down and remind himself that one way or another, no man would be crassly taking you away from him.

[lightningant]

I've never seen characterizations of Tom and Harry the way yours is. I love how neurotic and messed up they both are -- they're *SO CUTE* too. <3 <3 <3

Tom is just so exhausted and cynical and Harry is a manic catastrophe with sooo many crossed wires and they're HILARIOUS. XD

And just so well written, I cannot tell you how distracted I was for at least a week after I read what you had for your fic -- I truly, truly admire your narration and dialogue and characterizations (I already said that but PLEASE I LOVE THEM SO **BAD** >O< ) Soooo funny and well made.

They're realistic! Tom and Harry are so messy and also normal people at the end of the day who make mistakes and aren't super cool all the time (really, they're utter dorks, and you TOTALLY show thatt) but also they're competent and scary and stubborn and you just have suchh a nice blend of their facets and I JUST....aghhh, I love itt.

Also I ADORE your designs -- I love how Tom is so sickly and neat (you said it best "Victorian child with tuberculosis" LMAO), and Harry is so IDK, he's just a Guy but in the most wonderful way -- I'm not actually good with words :,))))

I just love your art style in general, it's like, realistic yknow. You don't get rid of normal people "imperfections", they're a part of the design or enhance them -- I don't think the word imperfections is right, I just mean like, you don't exclude non-conventionally attractive aspects of bodies or facial expressions??? Idk, I'm trying here, I really am. Just, just, just I like it a lot and I wanna be like that toooooo >.<

IIIIIIII dunno if I have accurately gotten anything across or even given an actual good compliment in this entire thing but anyways you're very cool and awesome and also PLEASE forget that I said they were Babygirl I've never used that word before in my LIFEE and don't know if that was right at all -- if it was nevermind I meant it all and am so cool -- ANYWAYS bye :,)

I don't think I've succeeded in lessening my embarrassment but uhhhhh, I hope I've at least articulated myself better :,)))

Askbomb swag. Thank you, this message was so sweet :) I shall try to match energies.

One of the things I love most is that the kind of person who puts up pretensions is, innately, trying to hide something about themselves they find sub-par. Tom isn't just a scary and incredibly powerful domineering sigma male who is a master manipulator, he is a person who is actively attempting to turn himself into that man, and in my fic he is still a teenager and still tripping his way through that mental image he has of himself. The two worst ages to ever be are 15 and 20; fifteen, when you are ready to shed childhood but don't know what maturity looks like just yet, and 20, when you are ready to become your own person and achieve adulthood, picking your way across existence-defining beliefs. And his only friend for the past like, 7 months? has been his 16-year-old self who has the single-minded objective of looking cool and mature to his adult self. A hell of his own making.

Harry is also 20. He is one of those 'unusually mature for his age' kids and he has an inflated sense of his own righteousness and capability, despite being the actual one with the emotional range of a teaspoon (he just knows to keep it himself). There is no way Harry would detect he is having a manic fit, especially if he is having one that is triggered by his arrested feelings on Sirius. It's incredibly fun writing him perform this extremely risky and reality-altering plan and his plan was "idk, kill him?" and picking shit up off the ground whenever he sees it, the DADA position included. our hero.

Beautiful tragic terminally ill gothic prince / fit jock is really a match made in heaven aesthetically. Cannot get enough of it

Thank you for art compliment too ^_^ I used to lean more to anime fandoms so Harry Potter really let me stretch my legs on more 'normal people' facial features like big noses and soft chins and I'm glad it's clear how much fun I'm having doing that. Yay! Though one of the compliments I've always gotten that I've always been proud of is how distinct the way I draw expressions is.

No no...you're right. Tom is absolutely a babygirl. And Harry...well he was certainly Ginny's babygirl, and I'm sure a part of him is really itching to have someone put their hand on the small of his back 😔

[thehomophobe]

When encountering a child 🧒: Part 2

Roxy 🐺: "Alright, so here's what you do." Roxy instructed as she pointed at the gas pedal inside the kart. "Your foot pushes on that pedal. That's what makes the kart go."

"And what about this one?" The kid points at the other smaller pedal in curiosity.

"That's the brake pedal."

"That's what stops the kart?"

"Mmhm." Roxy nodded. It was a simple vehicle but simple is different when it comes for children. (Y/N), the kid in the Roxy themed kart, had never touch one these in their whole life. Which is unbelievable despite living inside the literal walls of the mall in secret. The was right by the raceway, hidden in the dark shadows in the back where no guests, staff or robot could define. The only person who clearly notice the standalone slum from the darkness was Roxy. (Infrared vision obvi) And with an effort, Roxy decided to keep the kid's shack a secret from everyone, including her bandmates. How could she not keep allegedly her #1 fan practically standing by her side? 

(Y/N) held tightly to the steering wheel; all the might in their arms was forced onto the apparatus. They were nervous, only the adults drive a car, not little kids. But they had Roxy as their teacher, who gave a small chuckle from behind. "What's got you so tense?"

"Nervous." said (Y/N)

"You're going to be fine. Just follow the path" Roxy made a vague, squiggly outline of the track. "and slow down if you close to the edge." She points the barracks blocking around the perimeters of the track. (Y/N) loosen up and steadied themself, ready to race.

"You ready?" Their instructor asked, jumping over the barracks near the finish line.

"Mmhm." (Y/N) nodded determinedly. "I'm ready." 

Roxy couldn't smile anymore at the kid's determination. That furrow of focused, it's just too cute. 

"On your marks."

"Get set."

"Go!"

The colors fly, soar even. The wind blusters through with an unmatched force. The lights glow, illuminating with their shine. The crowds would cheer, whoas, wows, and whoos can be heard. Zooming through the gravel, bottles on the ground spin at the speed of light. Spray the champagne, pass the bottle. Hit the gas and go full throttle! You say to yourself. It felt amazing. It felt exhilarating. 

And you were one going 14 miles per hour.

Hey, it was fun for you. Especially with that big imagination of yours.

Riding the line at the final minute, you wanted to be first in line. Not really worried about the time. Roxy stood and watched for the last minutes ticking passed, arms crossed but she was smiling. Happy to see you're fun. You smiled back, showing all your jagged teeth to the gynoid.

Once you passed the finish line, Roxy cheered and clapped for you. You got out the kart and ran towards her like a kid after their first day of school, happily hugging her legs. Roxy didn't exactly know how to respond, but she thought a simple hug in return was good enough. 

You won the pole position by having the slowest qualifying time. 

Sun 🌞:

Riley Magner and Sally Rovere; left just after snack time was over.

Tommy Reignheart and Harry Kent; they too had made their descent.

Clementine, Jezbelle, Reggie and Nevin; all went home with their nanny Mrs. Delvin.

One by one the children all go, except for one who's all alone.

(Y/N) (L/N). The last child of the night. 

Sun kept to their side siting in one of the plastic chairs and assisted the young child on their paper pal. A competent distraction from the somber situation, the solemn moratorium of their guardian picking them at the late hours of the night. It is about this time when the daycare should be closed and Sun would rest while his brother handled security outside the giant play place. But for now, we craft a friend, to accompany us in this quiet, sepulchral yet serene moment in time. 

"Wow. That's a very nice paper pal friend!" The android complemented, marveling the poorly colored paper pal in front of the child. (Y/N) smiled both proud of their creation and happy about the complement. "

Tank you Mr. Sun." They slurred with glee and not-quite-right pronunciation. A grammer lesson would wait, Sun has to put all these supplies back to their rightful homes. With the help of (Y/N) of course.

"Do you know where the little crayons go?" Sun asked.

"Into the boo box." (Y/N) said, placing the crayons to their happy home. 

"That's right! Good job little star!" Sun clapped in congrats.

(Y/N) was always a sweet child. Whether it be during playtime, snacktime, naptime or an afternoon lecture, they would always behave wonderfully in the daycare. A trait both Sun and Moon admire dearly. Of course they were other sweet kids, but our spotlight is on (Y/N) today is it not? After cleaning up, Sun's battery alert popped up, reminding him of his low power.

WARNING! LOW BATTERY 

20% Power Remaining

He really needs to charge soon, both for him and Moon. He yawns of tiredness and rubbed his eyes. It was in his code for to be drowsy when his power depleted under 50%. You know, to look more human to the kids. With all the perks: stiff shoulders, malaise, slowed reflexes, constant yawning, and of course, droopy eyelids slightly covering powder blue eyes.

He was fatigued. He needed sleep. Sleep mode that is. But he can't leave (Y/N) unattended, even if they're responsible enough to be unsupervised.

"Mr. Sun." A small voice peeped. Below the 8ft android lied the small child looking up with big eyes. "Are you sleepy?"

"Sleepy? Me?" He perked up after the question and shook his head quickly to shake some spunk back into his system. "Oh nonononono I'm ok! I'm wide awake! See?" He smiled, trying to play off the exhaustion.

"Oh ok. Kan you braid my hair? Pwetty pweaze?" (Y/N) asked politely. 

"Why I loved to my little starbeam." Sun grinned. He really would. You had nice hair and it was an activity that doesn't require a lot of power. He's just gotta sit down and braid your hair. That's it. He can do that. He can absolutely do that. 

With newfound energy, Sun searched for the chest of scrunchies a coworker once donated for kids with longer hair while playing. Meanwhile, (Y/N) found a comfy spot. It was the perfect place. The sleepaway tent near the back of the daycare. Mainly used for kids who were more introverted and calm then the others. Away from the bedlam of children's games and cacophony of laughter and loud screams. 

Chest in hand, Sun scanned the area, looking for the little star that had just eluded him. 

"(Y/N)~. Where are you~?" Sun sonnets, like a princess serenading the woodland creatures around her. 

"I'm in here Mr. Sun!" (Y/N) giggled, a little head peeked from the tent. 

Oh dear. Sun silently worried. The sleepaway tent was also made for naps too. It was quiet, calming, peaceful, and according to Moon, incredibly comfortable. He was starting to wonder if he wasn't gonna make through the night.

"Come on come on!" (Y/N) hurried the android.

"I-I'm coming star." Sun stammered a little. Robotic celestials above please give him strength.

Moon 🌚: Moon check the doors. Once, twice, thrice. He can't have those pesky nightguards ambush him tonight. The perfect night for a late slumber party. He checked one final time; the pitch black is what the average person would see outside fake Lincoln log doors, but for Moon it's an empty hall slightly dirted from the patrons from early and are due for some scrubbing. Good, no ones here. 

"All clear little star~." Moon grinned, closing the door slightly.

A little giggle rumbled from inside the sleepaway tent. A lilac blanket shifted before rising from the floor. A child emerged from beneath, the blanket turned into a woolen shawl wrapped around their small body. An equally cheeky grin matched the one on Moon's. Let the fun begin.

It's been two whole weeks since Moon found (Y/N) living inside the plex. During a midnight security run, Moon found a small cot hidden deep within the gift shop, hiding behind old boxes of merchandise untouched by anyone in the past. (Y/N) presumably utilized the boxes for their hut. Moon found the child sleeping with an old (and incredibly ugly) plush of himself. Their guest id wasn't registered at all in the system, meaning they snuck in during the rush hours. So with a heart of gold, (and Sun's incessant use of persuasion), he took (Y/N) in as his own. 

To think: Moon's (and Sun's) very own child.

"We could be their dads!" 

"Don't push it."

But it doesn't sound bad, (Y/N) is a good kid and both brothers wouldn't have it any other way.

"What would you like to play first star?" Moon asked. The child hummed in thought before choosing. 

"That one." They pointed at a pack of colorful cards in the center of pile. Old Maid: Simplified. A simple game. And it had little pictures for (Y/N) to learn. 

Moon dealt the cards out for the both of them while he explained the rules. "You see these people?" He laid three different cards in front of the child: A milkman, a ballerina and a police officer. "If you two of the same person," he pulls the same three cards again, "you put them over here." The child nodded.

"You win if you don't get the old maid." He pulls the old maid card up to show. 

"Why?" (Y/N) asked.

Huh? A question Moon couldn't properly answer. He wasn't sure why the game maker deemed the old maid the losing degree. She's just an old lady. "I'm...not exactly sure star." He shrugged after dealing the cards. (Y/N) got into a comfortable position before the game started.

 You must've played hundreds of games tonight with Mr. Moon. You won some, you lost some other ones, but you had fun tonight. And now you were sleepy. You yawned and rubbed your eyes.

"Getting sleepy little star?" A rumbly voice purred. You always thought Mr. Moon's voice was pretty. It sounded like those cats you would hear on the streets. You nodded slowly. A pillow was placed by your side like magic. You held the blanket closely, feeling the softness around you. A nap sounded good to you anyways.

"Nighty night, little star~."