#the downside is that now he has to have his world shattered just about every other day

[tangledinink]

has swanatello tried keeping a diary/journal? that way he could write down what happens at the visits and who visited, and his family could tell him what the date is so it could be accurate

Absolutely! He tries to record as much stuff as he possibly can so he can reference it later, the issue is that, on bad memory days, he often won't remember that the journal exists, and therefore can't add anything new to it or reference anything in it. If he does, he may not recognize the importance of it or understand why he's writing it in the first place. He may write down incorrect or conflicting information, as 'facts' may change for him depending on his mental state, which will later confuse him. He also has a tendency to lose things as a result of his memory issues.

He has a journal, but up until now it has been very patchworked and not half as helpful as he would like for it to be. His family tries to help him keep track of it and remind him to write things down when they visit, but they can't help if he won't allow them entry to the lake, if they can't find the journal, or if Donnie is too distressed or confused to participate in the exercise. The bracelet, however, has helped a lot with this, as it can verbally prompt him every day to locate the journal, reference the journal, to write in the journal, and to put the journal back in the correct place so he can still find it again later. This consistency is incredibly helpful, as the bracelet doesn't have to rely on Donnie having a 'good day' to begin with to offer assistance.

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

MDNI

Ok, for real this time.

CW: Sex/Sexual content, not feral twilight, but he’s almost there, light marking, breeding

Reader has feminine anatomy and no pronouns.

Not proofread!!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Spring was a very prominent season among Ordon. Sure, every season had its place in their ritualistic life. But given Ordon was a small farming village, the icey cold of winter and droughts of summer didn’t provide them with much. Hell— even the goats were cranky without fresh grass to gnaw on.

But the sun would, with time, melt the snow and nourish the land. Small flowers would poke up on the edges of pathways and riverbeds. The bank would crack as the sheets of ice splintered and gave way. The grounds would soften and absorb the first rain of many months.

Link had always loved spring. As a boy, he loved the warm sun on his skin as he picked away at fresh grass, splitting the blades and getting soft dirt under his fingernails. As he grew, the season proved to be enjoyable far beyond just its temperance. Laying largely in, of course, that his job of caring for a herd of goats relied primarily on their happiness. Spring was kind to him. The sun didn’t beat at his skin, the goats didn’t groan their discontent, the work was plentiful, but pleasant.

Only one true downside sprung to mind with the season of spring. He remembers being particularly younger -perhaps his first season working as a hand with the goats- and getting rammed by a particularly competitive ram. His chest and back had minor bruises, and his palms were scraped.

It was that year he learned there was a lot more to caring for a herd of animals than simply providing them what they needed.

‘One must adjust themselves’ Fado explained as he wrapped the scrapes, ‘To the animals, you are new. Not one of them. Competition to that ram, in his eyes.’ He chuckled heartily as Link explained that he was only trying to help feed them. ‘They ain’t smart enough to know that, kiddo. Don’t you worry yerself. Now run along, I have things handled.’

The years passed. He grew familiar with the herd and they grew familiar with him. He could pick out which were particularly moody, the others more friendly. He knew their waking and feeding times to the minute. He knew which were the most prone to being lame.

But most importantly related to avoiding injury, like that of his prior example, when they’d mate.

And though he never would admit it aloud to a single soul so long as he had dignity, the idea was captivating. The thought that someone could feel the primal need to fuck so badly that the world becomes irrelevant was one he’d often entertain on quieter nights, his lungs struggling to draw steady breath as his hands wrapped around his cock. There was something about that need to rut into somewhere soft and warm and fertile never failed to draw strangled whines from his throat.

But of course, that was before he had to actually tend to said urges.

That was before his soul was shattered and welded back together with something more beast than man.

He’d found, more often than not, that a rut was more annoying than anything else. He was constantly covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his body temperature being so elevated. Worked wonders for attracting attention as a bead of sweat would travel down the contours of his muscles. However, having consistently damp sheets because of it was so annoying he’d sleep on the couch most nights. The aggression was mostly annoying because it resulted in him cursing out the goats so often he was sure he looked utterly insane.

That was, of course, not even mentioning the sexual aggression.

The weeks dragged out and the temperatures raised up. And every single night Link would come home, take a shower, eat some dinner, and proceed to spend the rest of the evening with his hands between his legs. Occasionally a pillow would find its way between strong, plush thighs, his hips bucking and grinding pathetically at the sensation. But even after his hands, thighs, stomach and bed were stained with sticky cum, another wave of mind-numbing heat would roll over him.

Notably most annoying was there was no solution. Horny as he was, the beast would shove away any lover he tried to take in distaste. It craved something special. Something specific to sate his urges and carry his kin.

At first, he thought this to be a cruel and unusual curse from Hylia. Her way of forsaking her hero who was permanently ‘tainted’. It only seemed fitting when one considers the purity culture the church possesses. That it was something beyond simply shameful to tend to temptation.

But then he met you. You who was always different. Who both him and wolf pined for. Who had him tripping over himself for your affection. You who he didn’t care about the consequences. So long has he had you.

You who did not spit at him for who he was— what he was. You who loved him regardless. You who kissed his tattoos and markings. You who reassured him during his anxiety attack, that you weren’t ’too good for him’ that he truly was deserving of love either way.

So much had shifted since then, though nothing really had at all. The both of you both still split chores and cuddled at night. But now both hemispheres of his sentience could be satisfied knowing you were his. First as a lover who he could cuddle and kiss, someone to cherish until the end of his being. And second as a mate who he could protect and claim, someone to breed and carry his pups.

Not much changed as of genuine dynamics, but his outlook most certainly had.

Spring, familiar in the back of his mind, began to bloom. The snow melted off the fields, the life returning to the woods, his mind running wild at seeing any newly exposed skin.

To some extent he felt indecent. The man in him wanted to help you prepare for the festival, to caress your warm skin and pepper your cheeks with kisses. He wanted to enjoy life at your side. The wolfish, however, wanted nothing more than to pin you to the bed and fuck you senseless. To make new life as if his own was dependent on it. The civility instilled in him was mortified with the thoughts of the primal.

But that of course, made them no less present. Nor did it made his skin no less warm, or his jealousy less looming.

Ordon never really held large events, but the equinox of each season was mutually assured to be the time to go all in. Each family would show up with multiple dishes and drinks and the festivities would last long into the early hours of the day. It was your first time at the spring festival, the children presenting you with a flower crown and giddy grins. You both ate and drank your shares, laughing among the village. Just like any other family at the table… that was, excluding the lack of little ones.

Eventually, some of the more drunken began to sing and chant, the makeshift beat and music causing some to dance and sway. Link hung back as you were tugged into the crowd by Ilia. The fading sun caught your skin, dousing it in a radiance beyond mortality. He could hear your laughter amidst the voices, clear and crisp. You were divine, he decided. Not just perfect or stunning, but someone he’d devote himself to until he had nothing left to give.

He’s actually quite unsure on how long it was he sat there in admirance. He got more than a few comments on how utterly lovesick he was for you, but it didn’t matter. Not to him. Not now you were finally his. You came back, a smile lingering on your lips as you kissed him, your hand squeezing his shoulder with some sense of urgency.

“Are you alright?” His hand, rough from a life of nothing but work, cupped your jaw with such delicacy. His voice was hushed, not wishing to draw attention to you in the case something truly was wrong. You grabbed him by the collar, demanding him closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“I think it’s time we headed home.” And who was he to deny you? Especially not with the lilt in your voice, one that had him weak willed to your order.

He didn’t bother putting you down as he walked through the front door. He had you on the bed in seconds. He straddled your hips, a single strong hand pressing you to the mattress by the neck. His hands tugged sharply at your shirt, ripping away the fabric with a muttered promise for a new shirt. He immediately defended upon the skin, latching and sucking marks and bruises.

“Yer so fuckin’ stunning sugar” He whispered against your skin, kissing the hickey he just planted.

“All laid out f’me, huh?” His accent thickened, his teeth grazed against the fragile skin of your throat, pulling it taught in places.

“All yours, just for you” You managed to weakly affirm. He grinned, sharp and suggestive.

“All mine.” He nipped at your neck, his subconscious running crazy with the scent of your skin. Begging him once more to claim— to mark what’s his. Reverently, he kisses the lovebites he leaves. Some bleed, but his tongue travels along each ridge in the bite mark. He savours your blood on his tongue. It’s the finest drug, setting each half of his mind reeling and his own blood rushing. He travels to your perked nipples, suckling on them both in turns as his hand massages the other one.

“So good for me.” He lets his hand trail down to your thighs, pressing them open. He chuckles at how easily they spread apart. A fang drags lightly against your skin as he kissed right above your hips, directly on top of where your uterus would be.

“G’na look so pretty, all stuffed with my pups.” He looked up at you through his lashes, his hands tightening around your thighs with the look of need on your face.

“I’ll help ya’ darlin’ don’t you worry” He slid back, hooking a finger over your waistband and asking a slightly shaky “may I?”

“Please, Link I-“ His hands ripped through any clothes that separated his mouth from your cunt. His hands slid to your hips to pull them even closer to his face as he lapped away. A starving man would’ve been more civilised with their meal.

But as far as he was concerned, he was drinking the most intoxicating wine straight from the tap.

He payed no mind to your whines, nor did he slow as your thighs squeezed his head. He would occasionally dive up, his tongue toying with your clit. He lets your fingers thread hrough his hair, pulling him as close as possible before gushing into his maw. He revels in the pain of your knuckles tugging at your hair. He leans in closer, trying to drink you in even more. You tried to pull back to give him breathing room, only to be pulled back in by the hips. He licked your pussy clean, some cum still dripping down his chin. Your hips buck at the sight, a man so pussydrunk he could die of suffocation between your thighs and be happy. He gently traveled back up to kiss either of your cheeks and comb through your hair, massaging out the insides of your thighs as you resurfaced from your mind.

“Love?” He praised you in his tone alone, his forehead pressed against yours as he untangles himself from between your legs.

“Yes?” You open one half-lidded eye to see a beggar man, eyes full of such hope.

“C-Can I,-“ He didn’t need to say ask before you knew the question.

“Yes.” He’s careful, as of trying to convey to you in the motion of pressing your legs upward just how much he loves you.

Something in his eyes darkens the second he’d sunken inside your heat. He paused, letting you adjust to him and your muscles to relax.

“Fuck that greedy hole a’ yours fits me- so so well” He grumbles out, his chest rising and falling, as if staying still were truly a great effort to him. He bares his teeth, unnaturally sharp for one of his kind. His hips suddenly draw back and snap against your own, his length pushing against your cervix. He mumbles fragmented praises incoherently, slamming into you with an abusive pace, contrasted to the slow circling of your clit. His hand is so warm against your sensitive nerves, you want help but buck and wail in a desperate attempt to keep the stimulation as you get closer and closer to cumming. And you know you’re not alone— his grunts turning raspy the closer he himself gets to cumming, almost like a growl.

“Gna’ knock you up.” His hips buck out of time, but certainly no less fast. Your cunt flutters with the dizzying combination of sensations.

“You want that? My litter? Pups of our own?” Perhaps it was the near ferality in his tone that caused you to topple over. Or maybe it was his two fingers that curled around your clit. Even his cock nudging against your most sensitive bundle of nerves. He followed not too soon after, your silken walls squeezing around him must’ve been exactly the fix he’d been lusting after.

You both spent a few minutes curled up, catching your breath and letting your minds settle. You begin to shift, only to be met with a needy whine and arms around your abdomen.

“Nonono! Not yet- Please stay still” Link’s arms were loose, willing to let you go if that were your decree. You made no motion to move, much to his delight. He kneaded out any of your sore muscles and whispered praises into your hair as he played with it. Your eyelids began to flutter, sleep only staged off by his quiet whisper.

“Hey Darlin’?”

“Hm?”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

[honeybunniii333]

Was asked for Bedwarry angst by a friend! And I realized I've never written for them, so :P

Sorry it took literally 2 months. My lore has gotten so crazy lately.)

TW: FOR MENTIONED PET DEATH! (It's not in detail by any means. But the story is centered around Barry losing an animal. So if that's sensitive for you, I'd recommend not reading any further.)

"Blue?.." Ed's voice called out from the sliding glass door. It was soft, gentle... like he was afraid Barry would shatter if he spoke any louder. He wasn't sure why his first insinct upon finding Lily had been to call Ed... and not bury her. Maybe because he knew he couldn't do it by himself?... or at all. Ed had buried Mavis, and Emmie and Figaro... and clover, after all. Barry had simply stood there and watched him do it. He didn't even have it in him to bury them. Another way he failed those poor babies.

Ed had found his way to where Barry was hiding. Tucked against a tree staring into the window of the little house he kept the animals in. It was a shed he's fixed up, with a little fenced-in area to play outside in... painted bright colors that right now felt mocking. Ed's face was downcast, eyes somber and eyebrows furrowed with sorrow. He knelt down beside him and reached out to brush hair out of the other boys face. "Hey.. look at me...please?"

It took more effort than it should have to force his eyes up to meet those of his best friend. "There we go." Ed forced a smile, but it was twinged with a sadness they'd both grown pretty used to. That was the downside of this... the loss it came with.

"I'm sorry..." he managed to choke out, leaning forward to rest his head on the taller teens' shoulder. Edward was quick to wrap his arms around him. "And why in the world are ya sorry?" He whispered, rubbing his thumb over the stitching at the hem of his best friends shirt. Always fidgeting with something, it almost made Barry laugh... almost. "For making you do this every time... I know you hate it just as much as I do, and I sti-"

"That's my job, man." He laughed, pushing the shorter boy back a bit so that he could look over his friend, who was now looking very puzzled. Though that was nothing new, Edward Quinton was an enigma, and Barry was positive regardless of the length of their friendship. Edward was never EVER going to stop confusing him. "What do you mean your job?"

"I'm your best friend Barry, I do what you can't do for yourself." And maybe Barry preferred it that way... after all, what was Eddie if not confusing? "You're such a dork.."

"Hey, that says more about you than it does me! You're the one who keeps me around Bluebell." He huffed, shoving the other back with much less force than he normally would and getting quickly to his feet. "Now, where's the shovel at? Let's get this done so we can have a nice memorial and go watch a movie."

"Garage." And off Ed was, grabbing the shovel from the garage and beginning a task he'd grown somewhat used to over the years. Adding another tiny grave to the little cemetery. It wasn't a large cemetery, and Barry prided himself on that. He was able to patch up and nurse most animals back to health. The majority of the pets buried there had simply passed of old age or terminal illness... but a few of them hadn't, and that fact would never bother him. But Ed was there, and Ed always made things a little easier. Picking up the slack and helping with the heaviness of it all. Before he even knew it, they were both standing in front of a tiny little grave. Ed wrapped his arm around him, and they both gave their best wishes to little Lily before once again, making the somber walk back up to the back door and on inside.

Barry could still recall first meeting Ed. It was hard to forget, of course. Considering it had changed his whole life. Barry had always been alone, his parents were always gone, his older brother ignored him the majority of the time, and he wasn't very good at making friends. And he had been content with that, and then he'd been smacked upside the head with a soccer ball, and after that, he'd never been alone again. 2 years old onward, they'd been attached at the hip. And here they were 16 years and counting still spending most weekends like this. Huddled up together on Barry's couch, binging old horror movies with graphics that looked more like a highschoolers experimental art piece than certified animation. And maybe Barry preferred it that way,

[dcviated]

@sentofight sent this a little back:

"WYLAN!" hurried feet ran to where she saw the man get pushed off a cliff. This can't be right? There is no way he's ... n-no! "Weh--Wylaaan!" fear bubbled up in her chest. There is no way, right? RIGHT!? He's--He's her master! He's strong, and fast and smart and and-- He can't fall for this stupid move! Dropping down on her knees at the edge of the cliff, eyes fighting the tears to look for him--not his body! Not his body! "Wylaaaaaan! Answer me! You jerk, you better not be dead! I swear I will --hic, I will STAB you to death if you died! Answer me damn it!" Moving her body forward to look down even more, "Say something! You better not die! you better ...not *hic*" a voice came from the side, a little bit farther from where she is sitting. Apparently, he managed to hold onto something down there and climbed right back. "Wy..." voiced trailed off and her eyes focused on the man who climbed up, dusted his clothes and was complaining about how he got knocked like that. He's alive ... Her fear was replaced with anger. How could he always do this? She always thinks he is in some grave danger and he then comes out like nothing. Pushing herself up, she was determined to slug him a good one for scaring her like that but she did the opposite--she hugged him tightly. Burying her head into his chest, arms wrapped around his body, trembling. She thought she had lost him, too ... She couldn't bare his loss. "Don't ... *sniffle* .... leave me ..."

Fancy footwork serves a purpose in a duel. Depending on how one's move attention can be shifted, openings can be made, and obviously one can make themselves much harder to hit themselves. And yet, there are some downsides. When Edea was put in danger, Wylan had to think quickly. So he takes an attack that maybe he wasn't best suited for.

The world flips, and butterflies become stones within his gut in a near instant. Momentum, turning, a sudden plummet after both feet leave the ground, and Wylan finds himself airborne. Ah. Well. That's not good, now is it? How had the cliff gotten so close? How had that chump gotten so close? If her dad learned about this slipup...

Oh well. No sense thinking about that now, it's a long way down, he'd noticed that before, hadn't he? In the heartbeats that spanned point A and point B he wondered if this counted as anything other than a tragic defeat. The man's record isn't perfect, and he had a feeling the fates and his way of life would eventually catch up to him. Just. Couldn't it have been cooler than this? Couldn't he have--

A familiar voice screams out, tearing his senses back from the shadows of past regrets and into the present. Eyes snap open as the first impact hits the cliff. Air is knocked from his lungs and he almost dazes from that alone. Hands scramble. Fingers bleed as they catch on edges and root until finally- something holds and he impacts one last time on the gritty face of the rock.

"Oogh..." He whimpers quietly to himself. Right. Who even cared about the past or any of that, right? He has to think of a lot more than just himself. There's other people out there who actually seemed to want him around. There's one. Right now. Crying out as though her life depended on it more than his own.

That's so stupid of her. He can't help but smile through the building agony of what was surely going to have him limping for a couple days as soon as he got out of this... which took a few more exertions than expected. But, eventually, Wylan does emerge, making a final yank to pull his self back onto solid flat ground.

And then, of course, as necessary- he puts every ounce of energy left into him to commit to some silly bit that he was fine. Last thing he wants is for Edea to worry about him.

"Thaaaat wasn't as cool as I thought it'd be. Did you know, actually, that... when you fall off a cliff you--Edea? Ede--OOGH." And with those arms thrown around him, that veneer of cool is shattered. He winces and settles back down, yielding under her concern and looking about as roughed up as he actually was. Dang. So much for that act.

"...course I can't leave you, Sugarpuff." Wylan scoffs, winced eyes averting bashfully at the affection, though his arms weave back around her, leaning in against her head. "Pretty sure you... weren't about to leave me either. Actually worried if I took any longer to .. pull myself back up you might have jumped off to go after me. Can't be having that. Imagine what it'd do to your hair once you rolled once. Eh? Heheh."

Ah, the laugh hurts a little.

"... glad you're okay, though. Looks like you took out the last of them. Got a good revenge in for me? No no, I'm not really interested in carrying it out ... myself right now. I think I'm. Kinda hurt. Actually."

[ijustwant2write]

Causing A Fuss-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

(GIF credit to @hvitserkk​)

Masterlist

Requested by @elennox03 : Can you write an imagine where Anthony’s wife is pregnant and she’s at the very end of her pregnancy and he is trying to make her stay in bed and rest but she refuses and she’s somewhere in the house and she goes into labor and Anthony freaks out and then after the baby is born a little cute dad Anthony fluff?

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Hyacinth Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Violet Bridgerton x Reader (mother-in-law)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Pregnancy side effects, labour, mention of blood, fluff fluff fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anthony's strides were quick as he explored the house, desperately seeking his wife. Members of staff were ambushed with questions, startled by his tone. When he didn't get the answer he wanted, he would huff and storm off again. Where was his beloved? She wasn't where she was supposed to be.

(Y/N) laid back on the sofa as Hyacinth fanned her, the pregnant woman also fanning herself. She was just too hot, she was tired and her feet felt like they had been hit with a hammer. Her shoes were on the floor, it was far too painful to be wearing them.

"Thank you so much darling." (Y/N) said to her sister-in-law.

"Is it really that bad?" Hyacinth asked.

(Y/N) wanted to say yes. Despite pregnancy being an extraordinary feeling, the emotions and connections you made with your unborn child were confusing, there were quite a few downsides; the sickness, the tiredness, not being able to fit into your dresses or shoes, as well as feeling every single type of emotion everyday. But after seeing the young girls scared face, she knew she couldn't be entirely truthful.

"No, of course not." (Y/N) smiled, sitting up slightly."It can just get a little tiring sometimes. Have you ever held a baby?"

She nodded.

"It was heavier than you imagined, hm? Well, my baby is a little heavy right now. But they will be here soon."

"I'm very excited to meet them. I can't wait to be an auntie!"

(Y/N) melted at that."You'll be an amazing auntie."

"Here you are." Anthony entered the room, relieved to see (Y/N), until he saw what state she was in."What is wrong? Hyacinth, why didn't you fetch for me sooner?"

Anthony rushed to his wife's side, snatching the fan from his sister and fanning his wife. (Y/N) was irritated whenever Anthony was like this, it was sweet that he cared, but her fuse was short. She was resting, not bed ridden.

"I am not returning to bed Anthony. I do not wish to bicker with you." (Y/N) made it clear."I am just hot, that is all."

"The doctor advised that you stay in bed for most of the day-"

"Anthony, I cannot stay cooped up all day, laying down and doing nothing. I would go simply mad. And I have spoken to friends who are or have been pregnant, none of them did that."

"They are not professionally trained."

"That doctor has never carried a baby."

"(Y/N) said it isn't that heavy." Hyacinth spoke up.

Anthony slowly turned his head to his sister. "This is a matter for the grown ups. Go and...play somewhere."

Hyacinth knew better than to argue with Anthony, rolling her eyes before leaving. (Y/N) pursed her lips at her husband's behaviour.

"Did I ever mention how amazing you are with children?"

Anthony smirked."Well, it's a bit late to be getting lessons on childcare, isn't it?"

(Y/N) giggled, taking Anthony's hand and placing it on her bump. Anthony loved touching her growing bump. It had been strange to see his wife changing shape before his eyes. He was so used to her body having run his hands over every angle, seeing it every day from the time they were married. But it made him fall even more in love with her, if that was even possible. Anthony could write a hundred pages expressing his love for his wife, and it would still never be enough.

"I still can't believe we're having a baby." he breathed out.

(Y/N) scoffed."Are you saying I've always looked like this?"

Anthony laughed."Of course not. But no matter how much you talk about such a thing, no matter how much preparation you do, it just seems surreal."

(Y/N) hummed in response, putting her hand on top of his."I've loved carrying them, but it is time for them to come out into the world."

"Still not saying whether it's a boy or girl?"

(Y/N) shook her head."I just don't feel one way about it. Not that I care about that, as long as they're healthy."

"I still say boy."

"You would."

"You just said you didn't care."

"I don't."

"(Y/N), please can you just promise me one thing?"

"Anthony, I am not staying in bed-"

"Stay by my side as much as possible. The baby is due soon and I want to ensure you are safe when the time comes."

"Oh, Anthony, I'm with you for a majority of the day anyway."

"I know but, if there are moments where I am not present, I want to have a sound mind that you are in safe hands, such as family or a member of staff."

"Well, you know I'm not going to be leaving the house, much to my annoyance. So I will be guarded all day and night."

"You're making it sound like you're a prisoner."

"I'm just being dramatic. I just want to meet our child now."

"Well, I can't deny either of those statements."

Anthony wasn't exaggerating when he said he wanted (Y/N) beside him at all times. From then on, they were seen with each other anywhere they went in the house. Anthony didn't go out as much as he did, and he instructed there always be staff in every room and corridor. She didn't mind it, however, as her due date grew closer, the more nervous she became. Unfortunately, that meant her temper was shorter, she became more snappy and tired, and she didn't want everyone constantly reminding her that she was about to give birth. (Y/N) tried so hard to not take it out on her husband, but because he was the one always beside her, he was the only person she could lash out at.

"Anthony, I'm sorry but I just need a few moments alone. I'll return soon, just...let me calm down. I'm sorry." she apologised as she walked away from him, having screamed about how frustrated she was.

She didn't hide her deep breathing as she waddled down the corridors, passing by staff that worryingly watched her. (Y/N) wanted to calm her heart rate, try and clear her mind. Feeling too many eyes on her, (Y/N) escaped into the nearest room, slamming the door shut behind her.

"(Y/N)?" Hyacinth said behind her.

(Y/N) sighed. Would she ever be alone again?

"What are you doing in my playroom? I thought you would be with Anthony."

She was playing with her dolls, three propped up in mini chairs, as was she, as they indulged in an imaginary afternoon tea. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that, envisioning her child playing in this room.

"Sorry darling, I just...I needed some time away from the grown ups."

"Oh, alright. Would you like to join us for tea?" she gestured to the chair beside her, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

"I don't think I would fit in that chair, even if I wasn't with child. I'll take the rocking chair. You carry on darling, I'm sorry for the interruption."

Her aching feet carried her to the chair, cautiously lowering down onto it. She rocked her heels back and forth, though did so slowly in case it caused any nausea. Hyacinth continued her game as if (Y/N) wasn't there, but kept her voice quiet to be respectful. (Y/N) closed her eyes, finally feeling the stress lift for just a moment when a jolt of pain in her stomach startled her. It made her let out a cry, clutching onto her bump as she leaned forward. Hyacinth jumped at the sudden noise, suddenly frightened at the way (Y/N) sounded and looked.

(Y/N)'s breathing got faster and deeper, yelling out as an unbearable feeling coursed through her. Her hands wrapped around her torso, willing the feeling to stop. A shocked noise escaped her when she felt herself go wet in the chair, liquid dripping down her legs.

"Hyacinth, get Anthony!" (Y/N) groaned, thankful a staff member rushed in. Hyacinth didn't have to be told twice, running as quickly as she could to fetch her brother. She had never seen anyone in such a state, no one had ever mentioned this pain when having a baby. Tears were in her eyes as she finally found Anthony, who was standing with her two other brothers at the staircase.

"Hyacinth, what's wrong?" Benedict was the first to notice the little girl running towards him.

She immediately grabbed Anthony's hand, gripping tightly onto it."Quickly!"

"What's happened?" Anthony asked her her fretting.

"(Y/N)'s having the baby!"

A second of silence passed before Anthony sprinted in the direction his sister came from. He only had to follow the sound of screaming to find his wife. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, she was meant to be upstairs in a comfortable position, surrounded by women staff that were prepared. He halted in the doorway when he saw her clutching onto the servant's arm as she struggled to stand from the chair. He snapped an order at another servant who followed him. The doctor had to get here as soon as possible, and the other students needed to prepare immediately.

"It's alright my love, I'm here. The doctor is on his way." Anthony reassured her as he took her other arm.

"I'm in so much pain Anthony." she wept."I can't do it, I can't do it, I don't have control over my own body. I'm frightened!"

Anthony's heart was shattering into a million pieces seeing his wife like this. He couldn't do anything to help. He couldn't ease the pain. If he could, he would take all of the pain she had and endure it himself. Anthony was a mix of emotions; fear for his wife, excitement to meet his child, terrified at (Y/N)'a reactions and noises. It was all too much, nothing would have prepared him for this.

"Anthony, you must leave!" Violet suddenly appeared.

"Mama, I can't leave her-"

"You wouldn’t want to see this Anthony. Go wait for the doctor, we all know what we’re doing here.”

Anthony knew of the steps to take in this event, it was not proper for a man to be present during the ordeal of birthing. But the love for (Y/N) was urging him to stay and protect her, that was what he was supposed to do as a husband, not abandon her. They went through everything together. Now he was being told to leave because of societies rules.

Benedict and Colin were able to pull away Anthony easier than they thought, due to him being frozen and confused about what he should do. He only registered that (Y/N) was calling for him after they left the room. Fighting against his brothers hold, he ignored their please for him to stop. They didn’t understand. They weren’t married, they had no idea what it was like to be bonded with someone in this way. However, he knew they were right, he had to stay away. All he could do now was help her from outside of the room.

“Where is the doctor?!” he demanded to know from the nearest servant.

“H-he has b-been called upon, Lord Bridgerton.” they stuttered.

“As soon as he arrives, he is to be brought here, quickly! Gather pillows, as many as you can, and blankets, we must ensure my wife is as comfortable as she can be. She should have been giving birth in a bed!”

Benedict and Colin stood back in silence, shocked by the quick turn around in their brother’s behaviour. They didn’t dare say anything in case they were snapped at. 

(Y/N) was clinging onto Violet’s hand as she screamed, hating the way her body had taken over and she couldn’t take back control. Violet remained calm, knowing that (Y/N) could do this. She had birthed all of her children with no complications, she knew how much women had to endure, so Violet was equipped with the necessary grit and vigour to help her daughter-in-law. (Y/N) was grateful to have Violet there.

A gruelling eight hours passed, filled with (Y/N) screaming, crying, cursing, pleading and begging for Anthony. It took every ounce of his willpower to not dash back to her, he would never forgive himself for this. He wished he could change the rules so he could be beside her. He paced with a strong drink in his hand for those eight hours, his brothers sitting down, trying to support him. However, it was getting late, and they found themselves struggling to keep their eyes open. Anthony had got rid of his jacket, sleeves rolled up and shirt buttons undone as he got warm, fretting over what was happening to (Y/N). 

“Lord Bridgerton!” a servant exclaimed as they entered the room, trying to stay composed. 

The men perked up, suddenly awake. Anthony noticed the servant was smiling, which made him relieved.“What is it?”

“Lady Bridgerton has given birth.”

Anthony didn’t need to hear anything else. He instantly ran to where his poor wife had been in labour. Hyacinth would never step foot in that room again. He pushed past anyone that got in his way, halting at the open doors to the playroom. The first thing he saw was blood, a lot of it, alarmed at the sight. But as he entered the room, it was forgotten about when he saw (Y/N)’s grin aimed at the baby wriggling around in her arms. His steps were slow as he approached, scared that he would disturb the peace that had finally fallen in this room. 

“Anthony.” (Y/N) breathed out, clearly exhausted. 

“I’m sorry.” was all Anthony could manage, eyes still fixed on his child. 

“For what?”

“For not being here.”

“You’re here now, and I understand darling. Now come meet your son.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.“I-I have a son? We have a baby boy?”

The doctor who had been crouched beside (Y/N) smiled at the Lord, standing to give the couple their space.“Yes, Lord Bridgerton, you’re now a father and have a son, who is very healthy, just like his mother.”

Violet also backed away, beaming down at her eldest son. She had never imagined him married and settled down so quickly, she expected to have many more years of her son fooling around with women not of a certain standard. Once (Y/N) waltzed in, Violet had seen a change in Anthony, and hope was restored in the Viscount.

“He’s finally here.” (Y/N) smiled as Anthony sat beside her.

“He really is.” one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, whilst the other supported her arms holding the baby.“You’re amazing. You did this (Y/N).”

“We did it.”

“No, no, you did this all by yourself. I’ll be with you every time form now on.”

“Every time? How many are you planning to have?”

He chuckled.“We’ll discuss that later.”

(Y/N) giggled, gently kissing the top of their baby’s forehead. Anthony couldn’t stop smiling, repeating (Y/N)’s actions to her. He had never envisioned this, he didn’t want to be trapped in this life at first. He had so many responsibilities dumped on him after his father died, he wanted to make sure his family was secure and have the freedom for himself; until he met (Y/N), and suddenly, he could see his entire future planned in front of him with this woman. He never fathomed that his heart could give anymore love for anyone else in this world, and he had been proven wrong. (Y/N) was the love of his life, as was his son, and he would protect and cherish them for the rest of his life. 

[byuntrash101]

Cry me a Fucking River

Pairing: Baekhyun x You

Genre: angst 💀(i tried), smut 🖤

Tags: plot, back story, psychological and physical violence, Ex!AU, AbusiveRelationship!AU, “make up” sex, crying, alcohol, breeding kink (i guess?), VERY angsty, bitter sweet ending. Don't read if you are triggered by these topics

Raiting: 18+

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says “I love you”.

A/N: It’s sooo difficult for me to write angst. I really tried hard 🥲... But IM really inspired me with the song. Even the tittle comes from IM's neck tattoo in the MV... I’ve been working on this one shot ever since it came out (aka a long time ago) please tell me if i did justice to this beautiful song ^^

General Masterlist

Inspired by IM Changkyun’s “God damn”

𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽

𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱

𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷' 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝓖𝓲𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽

𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓖𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾,

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴

                                                 Received 4m ago

                                               Baekhyun: I miss u...

                                                                    ✓ Read

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯...

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶...

𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯

You sigh staring at the ceiling of your room. Your roommates are down stairs playing an alcohol game but you sit here alone. You don’t feel like having fun tonight… You don’t feel like anything at all actually.

You lift your phone up and stare at the name on the screen. Baekhyun… Baekhyun is your ex boyfriend. You have been separated for a year now. After 3 years of the most toxic and damaging relationship you ever had you finally broke up. 

You told everybody he was bad for you.

You told your friends how possessive he was, how would go through your phone, or force you to use the speakerphone every time you have a call. Or how controlling he was when he didn’t want you to wear make up or even earrings…

And you’re not lying, all of it was true, down to the littlest detail and that’s what you told yourself too. But the truth was that you were hiding half of the story. Because no matter how much you tried to persuade yourself… you were just as bad to him.

You kept quiet on the silent treatments, spending days even weeks ignoring him, just for the sake of hurting him.

You kept quiet on the numerous ways you were always blaming him for all the problems you ever had. You never took the time to listen to him, you just always assumed it was his fault for everything. If you guys fought so much it was his fault, if he was sad, it was his fault. No matter how many hurtful words you spat his way it was his fault for being weak and not being able to bear the truth.

You kept silent on the way you always tried to make him jealous by letting other guys go after you or by simply letting people believe that you were available.

Always manipulating him in feeling sorry for himself, the exact same way he did it to you.

Like a game

Turn by turn

You were making your lives a living hell

Just like a game

 But they were moments of peace, or if you dare to call it that way, love. Yes, in some moments you truly loved each other. In a way, only the both of you can understand.

No one could possibly get how good you felt when you were finally calming down after the storm. How his eyes would clear up. How your heart would beat for him when his lips pink pouty lips curled into an adorable boxy smile. When you laid your head on his chest and that you knew he was yours, yours only. How you knew that heart beating against your ear was beating for you. How you knew the soft warm breath fanning your cheeks was just for you. When you both apologized and made the ever empty promise of never hurting each other again. He looked at you with the most sincere eyes and he said that he loved you…

This…

This feeling… no one could understand, no one but you two.

In your own unique and fucked up way… you loved each other.

But it had to be stopped right? If it went on you would have ended up killing each other… When you love and hate someone so much at the same time it’s the only way out…

And so you broke with him for good when after another fight you… You have absolutely no trouble recalling the taste of blood in your mouth, the pain in your scratched out throat, the screams of your ex-boyfriend, the sinking void in your chest…

You remember everything, every single detail.

How his voice shattered your eardrums, the noise of your nose breaking, the blood gushing out his brow bone, dripping in his eye.

That night was the last one.

 You can’t help but to think about that when you look at the message on your phone. It’s been a year, the memories of the damage you’ve done and the pain you endured is still fresh… But so is this feeling of warm happiness bubbling in your stomach… and so is this feeling you want to call love…

***

“Hey” Baekhyun simply says when he opens the front door of his apartment. He invites you in and you try to avoid his eyes.

“The living room is right there he points to the end of the hall” you nod, eyes still on the floor as you walk to the designated room. You sit yourself on the couch and Baekhyun sits right in front of you in a single seat. The only light source is a desk lamp set on the end table to your right. The room is small but cosy it has the familiar smell of cold cigarette that you came to love.

“The apartment is nice” you finally say after a long moment of silence. Baekhyun chuckles.

“Yeah… it’s kinda nice living on my own now… You know without the roommate” You are still looking around the room even though you already looked at the details of the curtains 3 times. “The only downside is that you can’t blame someone else for the dishes piling up in the sink” He laughs, with that clear, open mouth laugh that you used to know. A sound you thought you would never hear again. You don’t know why but that makes you look at him.

The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His dark brown eyes forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long , you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.

His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…

“You want something to drink?” he asked, blinking twice and shaking his head, breaking the intense eye contact.

“Yeah… Vodka please” you quietly answered smiling back.

At once he disappeared into the kitchen. The room was completely silent and you were able to hear your heart. It was beating hard but not fast. You didn’t feel nervous at all for some reason.

When Baekhyun came back with two glasses of the clear liquid and a beaming smile he sat next to you on the couch. Because frankly, it was what felt the most natural. His thighs pressed against yours.

You brought your glass to your lips to have a sip.

You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.

“Listen, y/n I-“

“No” you lifted your hand. “Don’t”

You didn’t want to hear them again. You knew them by heart the fake excuses and the empty promises. You didn’t come for that. You came to remember what was good.

You leaned in and closed your eyes and Baekhyun did too. When your lips link, sparks of electricity shoot between you, shivers run down your spine, making the hairs on your nape stand. Just a simple peck before he parted from you. Immediately your lips missed the warmth of his.

Baekhyun brought his hand to press your thigh. His cold slender fingers caressing your skin though your distressed jeans. You’re startled when you feel a warm tear roll down on your cheek. You repress a sob when you finally understand what it is… Then you notice a scar above his eyebrow and flashes of the last fight come rushing to you… You made that, you made that scar, along with the many invisible one that slowly turned him into the broken person he is. The overwhelming weight of guilt comes to crush you down.

But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.

His cold hands slip under your hoodie and roam your heated skin while yours unbutton his shirt. You can’t believe the same hands that are right now so delicately caressing your skin are the same that were lifted hit you so many times.

You can’t believe the soft lips kissing you so sweetly are the same ones that parted to insult you so many times.

You press your eyes closed shut, trying to chase away the memories of blood gushing out and shattered screams. You let your fingers entangle in his shiny silver hair. While he unbuckles you belt and pulls down your pants. Right after you help him out of his own clothes.

You lay down on the couch and he lays right over you, gently kissing your neck as you gasp at each one.

When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” he says his own eyes brimming with tears.

“Yeah” you breathe out.

Yes you want to forget about the bad things, about the pain and hatred, about the screams and the blood. You want to escape the truth one last time. You want to tell yourself that underneath all of this was true love. And you want to believe it’s still there even though it’s untrue. Even though you’re lying again…

Just then, like he senses your need to turn your face away from the truth, your need for fiction he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling you into a rough and harsh kiss. His teeth grazing over your lips. 

His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last. 

He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.

The pleasant and familiar feeling of his hands, his lips and his manhood kissing your deepest part ignites a fire inside you. You pull both of your bodies up. You make him sit up and you straddle his lap.

But the truth is just right here, whispering in your ear…

 “You’re just fucking whore” his distant voice yells form the back of your head

You want to forget

Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.

 The sound of shattered glass on the floor

You want to forget

Your hips swivel around on him. You push your center against his hard cock, making him moan against the skin of your neck. Both if your warm bodies pressed together are reminded of each other.

 Soft sobs, lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom

You want to forget

He nibbles on your collar bones while you throw your head back giving him unrestricted access to you. His swift hands contour you and harshly grip your waist to pull you up and push you down on him, walls clenching around him while you feel him twitch in pleasure. Baekhyun dives in on your chest, taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth.

 The smudge makeup, the cold nights, the reek of alcohol, the screams, the sound of his hands leaving blue marks on your face, the horrors you said, the horrors he did… everything… everything…

You want to forget everything

 “Aaaah… Baekhyun” you whisper, trying to cover the overwhelming rumor of your own memories.

“Fuck y/n” He breaths against your skin while you lower your hips on him.

It feels so good. He feels so good. You close your eyes, making sure to enjoy the moment while for a brief instant you didn’t feel miserable.

“Fuck Baekhyun… Aaaah'' you moan again, feeling your core throb around Baekhyun’s length while his comforting grunts fill the air between you. 

“That's it baby” he purrs in your ears, hands roaming your body and lightly teasing your hard nipples. “Moan my name”

“Baekhyunnn” you cry out, feeling your release coming dangerously close as you rock your hips on him. 

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he moans “You’re gonna make me cum” He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.

“Say you love me” you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.

“I love you. I love you y/n” his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.

“I love you too” 

“Let's make that kid. Let's have that child we always dreamed about” he moans, nails digging into your bare thighs

“Okay” you whisper in a short breath, giving up, desperately wanting to believe this child will save the both of you.

“Take my cum baby.” His breath is short, struggling on every word. “Get pregnant... aghh” he grunts as he finally cums.

You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, where life can possibly sprout.

You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm. 

You moan out his name like a prayer, like a religious mantra. A final vain attempt to make you both right for each other at last.

He crashes his lips onto your, trying to chase away your doubts while you throb around his cock.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers as you slowly ride your high, drunk on the unbearable pleasure he pumped inside you.

Once you both get down he looks at you eyes filled with something you can’t quite describe, something you’ve never seen before… Maybe hope.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too”

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, hiding the tears rolling on your cheeks. 

Even if it has to end in despair and sorrow, if it’s with him then you are willing to give it a pointless try once again. Because even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says these three simple words.

General Masterlist 

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon (if you don't like angst i'm sorry for tagging you 😭)

A/N: There we go! Please tell me if I honored IM’s amazing song. I listened to it around 5000 times. So guys... can I write angst or not? I don't really know if I like it 🤔

[alice-angel12x]

💔Bunny!Shouto x Bunny!Reader

Beastar/hybrid/ Fantasy AU

[In this story everyone is a hybrid with animal instincts, and major height difference depending on the animals like in beastars. And magic exists. And sorry if Shouto seems out of character for you.]

"Shouto where are you?!" Y/n called for her friend.

Sadly Shouto's mind was elsewhere, for he had fallen in love with the wolf princess Momo. Every day he would sit at the edge of cottonwood village and gaze upon The princess from afar.

"Shouto, there you are," Y/n said with a smile.

But that quickly turned into a sad frown as she saw Shouto eyeing the crescent castle. Kingdom of the wolves. Know most would wonder, why is there a rabbit village a hop skip, and a jump away from a wolf kingdom. Well, every time the village tries to move away rogue wolves would attack. Yet once they got close to the castle they would quickly run away. The king of the wolves claimed that as long as they stayed within the boundaries of the kingdom, they would protect them. Y/n never bought that. She noticed that once every year one rabbit from the village would disappear. Many believed it was from the rogue wolves, sneaking in and past the guards. So Y/n was worried about her friend falling in love with a wolf, a rabbit falling in love with a wolf.

"Oh Hi, Y/n," was all he said not even turning to look at her.

"How are you feeling, you know since spring is coming up?" Y/n asked him slowly.

"I'm fine," was all he said. "How about you,"

"I'm good still looking for my prince charming you know," Y/n said wistfully.

"You so childish," Shouto said as he finally turned to her.

"I'm 16 what's so childish about that?" Y/n asked as she turned to head back to the village.

Cottonwood Village is a quaint little town of Rabbits. In the middle of the village was a large cottage where the leader/mayor lived with his family, Shouto's family. The leader was endeavor Shouto's father, he was a part of the group of rabbits that believed the wolves were hiding something.

"Does your father know about your umm, dream girl?" Y/n asked.

"My father already has enough control of my life, I'm not about to let him control my love life," Shouto said coldly.

"You shouldn't get too close to the castle, it's dangerous," Y/n said in a worried tone.

"I know your thoughts on Wolves Y/n. But the wolves have shown use that they have other alternative foods. Like soy and bean-made meat," Shouto explained.

"It's easy to say that when it's not someone you care about goes missing," Y/n muttered bitterly, but Shouto sadly heard her.

"Y/n, it was the rogues that got your brother. And the Kingdom felt with them remember," Shouto sighed in annoyance.

"Shouto are you sure you love this wolf girl or is this just one of your I just wanna piss off my dad things?" Y/n asked bitterly.

"If You don't like it then you could always find someone else to hang out with, Y/n!" Shouto said as his left side lit up in flames.

Y/n quickly ran off, startled by Shouto's flame magic. Shouto sighed in frustration as he realized he used his father's Flames. After that Shouto avoided Y/n like the plague, and it didn't help that his father eventually found out Shouto was in love with a wolf. Endeavor did not like that, so he started setting updates for Shouto to try to take his mind off Momo.

Y/n tried to apologize and rekindle with him, but he would only give her the cold shoulder.

Y/n could see the sorrow and anger Shouto was in, so she barrier her feelings for him and braved the dark forest. She heard rumors that a powerful owl named All For One could perform miracles, even change species. She eventually found him a creepy old owl.

"E-excuse me, sir," Y/n stuttered as the owl turned his head 180° to look at her.

"I wanted to know if you had the power to change a person's species?"

"Yes indeed child, and what species would you like to be, but it will cost you," All for One chuckled.

"How much would it cost?" She asked.

"Half of your soul. Your life Will be cut in half. You'll live to about 25 for you," he answered as he towered over Y/n.

"I would like to pay for someone. If a red and white male rabbit comes and asks to change him, please take my soul," Y/n said in confidence.

"You young people always ready to throw your life away," he muttered as ripped out half of Y/n's soul.

And with that, she quickly ran back to the village, with Half of her soul in toe. She managed to track down Shouto and told him about All for One but left out the part of selling half of her soul.

Shouto did not waste time to find the owl and demand him to turn him into a wolf.

____________ [4 years later]

It has been 4 years since I changed into a wolf. When I changed, I found myself waking up in a large bed. I was found by Princess Momo herself. She helped was so sweet and kind, and was more than happy to explain wolf society. When I told her I was raised by Herbavoir animals. I was an Omega, while She was an Alpha.

Yet I enjoyed the times we spent together, I had never felt so free. She would help my heats or anything that confused me. It took a while to get used to eating soy meat, but I didn't mind all that much. All for One said he could change me and give me Wolf-like instincts, but he couldn't remove my Rabbit instincts. So it took a long time to suppress those instincts.

°° Today Momo had important meetings, so I was left to my own devices. So I decided to take a stroll through the forest. As I wandered through the forest I could hear humming coming from a nearby river. I peaked out from behind the tree, too see a rabbit bathing in the river. I recognized that rabbit, with her lovely H/c hair and beautiful snow-white rabbit ears and Tail.

"Y/n?" I called out to her.

Y/n quickly turned around to face me as she covered her chest with her arms. As my eyes took in all of her details I could feel the rest of the world fading away. It was just me and Y/n. In my new wolf body, Y/n looked so small compared to me now.

She matured a lot over these past 4 years. For some reason I couldn't see her as the childish dreamer 4 years ago, I couldn't figure out why.

"Umm hello Shouto, your taller," Y/n said as she started backing away.

"I-it's good to see you again Y/n," stuttered as I felt the heat rush to my face.

She smiled sweetly at me as she grabbed her robes as he made her way over to you. Seeing her standing In front of me was odd. I remember when I was still a rabbit I was just a few inches taller than her. But now she just barely reached my mid waist.

We sat under a tree and talked for hours about what had happened to me. And she sat there and listened very closely. Her robes v neck was very revealing and I started to feel hot.

She seemed to notice as she got and started to walk with a slight sway in her hips. A dormant instinct awakens within me as the rabbit inside me begged to go after her.

"It seems you're a bit too excited to see me. If I remember correctly I was too childish for you~," She said with a smooth seductive voice.

I had to hold back the Rabbit instincts as I watched cross to the other side of the river.

"I'm afraid I have to leave now, spring is just around the corner after all~," She cooed as she disappeared behind the trees.

I felt hot in a certain place as I felt my tail wag uncontrollably on the ground. That wasn't the last time I went out to see Y/n. Anytime Momo was busy I would meet Y/n by the river and we would talk.

One day it was a particularly hot day as I made my way to Y/n's meet site. Today she was wearing a large floppy sun hat and a cute spring dress.

"So what us Momo like?" Y/n asked curiously.

"She's wonderful, she's kind, smart, and gentle," I said to her as I started to talk about my fiance.

"Hey Shouto are you okay, you seem sluggish today and in pain?" Y/n asked worriedly.

"Oh don't worry, I'm going into heat soon. So I'll be sore for a while, the downsides to being an Omega wolf," I explained.

"That sucks, is there any way I can help you?" Y/n asked as she hugged my neck. She smelled like a field of wildflowers, I couldn't help but return her hug.  ---

As The two old friends were talking they failed to notice two figures creeping behind them. Before Y/n could react, a large hand grabbed her by the ears and lifted her off the ground. She screamed and thrashed against her captors. Shouto quickly got up and tackled the man as he pulled Y/n into his arms and ran.

"It's the rogues, we need to head back to the castle," Shouto struggled to say as he ran.

But as he ran his body began to ache and became heavy. His vision started to blur and his steps became uncertain. Shouto tripped and tumbled down the hill with Y/n in toe. As he collapsed on the ground his eyes slowly closed as his body gave out.

"SHOUTO, PLEASE WAKE UP!!'' was the last thing he heard.

------

As my eyes opened up, I found myself in my room or my nest. suddenly Momo came in with her usual sweet smile.

" Good your fully awake, it's good to see you took well to the stew," she smiled as she picked up the empty bowl next to me.

"W-what happened to me," Shouto asked as he tried to sit up.

" You're in your heat, but it is taking a larger toll on you because your body lacks certain nutrients that soy meat can't provide. So our hunters found a rabbit near you and gave her to our chiefs and made you rabbit stew," Momo explained.

Shouto felt his whole world shatter as his stomach noted and squeezed.

"Oh, my maid is coming with more stew. Today's rabbit such a delicious flavor," Momo said as she rubbed her finger in the empty bowl and licked off the stew on her finger.

Shouto began to tremble as the truth sank into him. His stomach lurched in disgust as he sat up and leaned onto a nearby wall. Soon a maid came in with a fresh bowl of ... Rabbit... Soup. Shouto tried to back away only for his back to meet another wall. The maid scooped a spoon full of Stew with a generous amount of cooked meat chunks.

"Open your mouth," the maid said using her Alpha order.

Shouto's omega body slowly opened its mouth, despite Shouto's wishes. As the maid feeds him a spoonful of rabbit stew. The maid ordered him to chew and swallow, and he did. Heavy tears ran down Shouto's face as his body betrayed him. It felt like an eternity to finish the entire bowl of Stew.

____

Soon as the maid left Shouto pushed himself onto his feet and made his way down to the kitchen.

'It couldn't be Y/n right? She must have run away to safety,' he thought to himself.

As he entered he saw the chief with a cloth sack ready to be thrown out. Shouto quickly offered to take it out for them as a thank you for the meal. And the chief happily gave the sac to Shouto.

Once he was out he ran deep into the forest and opened the bag to see a fresh skeleton of a small rabbit. But inside he pulled out a familiar sun hat and spring dress. His stomach lurched and forced up the stew into a nearby bush.

"I... I ate her!! I ate Y/n', His mind screamed in shame, disgust, and sorrow as he began to sob.

Flashes of Y/n's beautiful smile and lively eyes appeared in his mind.

He held up Y/n's dress, it looked so small. The perfect size for a Pup maybe, but he knew this dress was the size for a fully grown rabbit, a young woman. He held the dress close to his chest like he was Hugging Y/n again.

Shouto with his head low he snuck back to his nest. Laying down he slowly pushed away most of the fabric Momo scented as he held Y/n's dress close to him. He could still smell the field of wildflowers on her dress.

"I can still smell you Y/n," He whimpered to himself.

[kyber-crystal]

Unspoken Words

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.2k (I POPPED OFF LOLLLLL)

Summary: In which the night before being deployed on a covert black-ops mission overseas with Natasha, you write Steve a secret love letter that you never intended to give him. But, it still ends up falling into his hands.

Warnings: fluff, soft angst, cute steve hehe

A/N: once again, shamelessly stole this idea from the kdrama im watching adsfasdf

To Steve.

You always told me it was time I found someone who cared for me just as much as I cared about others. For the longest time, I had myself believing I was set for life since I already had the team. That I didn’t need to find a man to sweep me off my feet and take his last name, to have as my own, as every time I seemed to let my feelings wander astray, it’d end in tragedy.

After waiting for too long to say this, I guess I'm gonna come clean now, so brace yourself. I felt as if this would be easier for me if I was saying it on paper rather than in person, so here you go.

I realized I'm in love with you. You never leave my mind. You're always there, mentally, if not physically. It's hard for you to comprehend all at once, I know, it's hard for me to wrap my mind around, too. It still feels unreal that I'm actually admitting all this to you. I could've sworn I'd only acted this way in my dreams, but hey, reality can sometimes come up behind you and slap you in the face, you know?

In the middle of the storm, a war that rages on in my mind, you’re my safe haven. You’re the gentle center who keeps me steady and prevents me from teetering over the edge and losing my grip on reality. You keep me centered, and I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side. Steven Grant Rogers, I’m in love with you. I know, it doesn’t seem real. As crazy as it sounds, I’m hopelessly in love with you.

Steve, you are my one stability in a chaos-ridden world and I thank you endlessly for that. I so desperately needed something to hold onto, something to convince me I was still alive and breathing and somewhat sane. It's hard for me, it's hard that only today I've accepted the feelings I'd been harboring inside for years. But I've decided to admit defeat and admit I've officially fallen in love with you. Because what I'm beginning to feel now is far too strong for me to ignore; it's impossible to keep up this act when you're all I can seem to think about.

It's all strange, honestly. The feeling of butterflies flying around my stomach and tickling my insides makes me feel as if I'm up in the sky, my head in the clouds, but it also overwhelms me and makes me scared at the same time. The fact that I'm in so deeply in love scares me because I know when I'm really in love with someone, it's hard to escape once I've completed the act of falling for them.

Weird, right? Who knew the great Y/N was so capable of being a romantic sap?

It feels dangerous yet completely safe at the same time, as if someone's given me peace and my heart is dancing around in my chest because it's so happy, at the same time there is a Captain America-shaped hole there in the center that I was never aware was there in the beginning. My chest aches at the thought of having to leave you or you not reciprocating my feelings, but I know I might just suffer that fate, since the world as I know it, isn't kind whatsoever. I should know this better than anyone, after fighting countless battles.

It scares me more than excites me, how you can go from being really close friends to then being completely infatuated and in love with them and wondering how you were ever able to go on with your daily life without them, because I sure as hell can't imagine that now. In the beginning, I told myself it's not right, I still had so much of my life ahead of me, so much time to plan out what I'm going to end up like in the future but my brain is screaming no, no, it is right, it's meant to be.

The team tries convincing me to do something about it but I'm terrified. Terrified that I'll have to bring down the thick and heavy walls I spent so much time building up in the fears of being hurt and damaged and my heart shattered to a million jagged pieces.

I know most people would consider me to be foolish and naïve for spilling my feelings through a sappy love letter, but it's true when I say I love you so much more than I could ever love myself. You're my best friend, and as cheesy as it sounds, you are my everything. My anchor.

I fell for you all on my own. Not because I was pressured to or anything, but because I made the decision myself. I don't just give my heart to you by default as if there's no one else available for me to open up to. It's because I choose to. Every day that I wake up, every day we're fighting for our lives or fighting each other or going about a normal day or whatever, I'll keep choosing you over and over again, and I hope someday you'll do the same.

I love you more than you know. And if you don't feel the same way, then it's perfectly fine. I understand, and I'll wait for you as long as it takes, no matter what.

Whatever it takes.

Y/N

You let out a long sigh and set down your pen, folding the paper up into fourths and tucking it under your lamp before pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up, stretching your arms in the air. What even was the point of doing that, anyways? It’s not like Steve’s just going to come in here and read the letter. 

The downside of living with the Avengers was that word got around very quickly, especially about your love life. There was no hiding anything from anyone, as they’d find out one way or another. If Tony didn’t find out first, it was Natasha, Sam, or Bucky who did.

“Hey, Nat,” you spoke without turning your head to look at who was behind you, knowing your red-headed best friend was leaning against the doorframe, observing you carefully. 

“Y/N,” Natasha nodded and made her way inside, sitting at the edge of your bed and you took a seat next to her, as she rested her head on your shoulder. “You alright? I can tell something’s on your mind.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Something tells me you’re not.”

“Did Wanda read my mind for you?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“No, she didn’t,” she replied honestly, “she’s busy baking cookies with Vis and Peter right now. You think you wanna tell me what’s up? As your best friend, I’m obligated to know what’s going on.”

You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh. "You know what it is."

"You mean who?"

"Why am I letting this happen to myself?"

"You can't control who you fall for,," she explained. "Your heart sometimes just has a mind of its' own."

“He’s Captain America,” you deadpanned.

“And you’re the badass Y/N!”

“I shouldn’t even have feelings in the first place. And I shouldn't have written that love letter that I won't even give him anyways, or...you know."

"You wrote him a letter?"

You got up and tugged the letter from underneath your lamp and gave it to her, watching as her eyes scanned over the paper with your tidy, typewriter-like handwriting filling the sheet from top to bottom.

"So..."

Natasha handed the paper back to you. "Why can't you just tell him?"

"Because he doesn’t like me back."

"You should tell him at some point. Keeping this all to yourself isn't healthy."

"You sound like Tony."

She chuckled lightly. "What?It's the truth."

"Fine," you threw your hands up in the air in defeat, "I’ll consider telling him after we get back from Kyiv. I’m only considering it. And if I do confess...will you take me out for shawarma? Bucky took me last time and I barely got to eat anything because he stole most of my food."

"Alright, I promise," she laughed. "You got a deal."

...

SHIELD was always taking advantage of your almost unparalleled skill in the art of covert espionage and hand to hand combat and sending you off. Normally, it would last no longer than a few days or weeks at a time, so to hear that you'd be gone for four whole months made Steve feel sick to his stomach. He was dreading having to watch you leave, because it would mean spending the next third of a year by himself, without being able to see your face or your smile or simply have you around for some good company.

You pulled him aside after dinner one night to tell him the news.

"Nat and I were called in by Fury early this morning. We're being deployed to eastern Europe to stop a nuclear missile launch."

"How long will you be gone?" He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, but it was a dead giveaway that he didn't want you to go at all.

"Well...if things go right, 3-4 months."

"And if doesn't?"

"Six, maybe seven."

Steve felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at your answer. "Why is it gonna take so long?"

"I don't know," you sighed, "just trying getting in and out isn't a very short process. We have to maintain low profile for a while before we infiltrate the base. If we're discovered too early on...then...well, we're basically screwed."

"Oh."

"Hey, I'm going to be fine, if that's what you're so worried about," you took his hand in yours and squeezed it tightly, "I know you're thinking I can't handle this, but I can. Nat and I are gonna look out for each other. I promise I'll be okay."

"When are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning. We gotta go at four."

You didn't have to add on another sentence to tell him it meant you were unable to say goodbye to anyone. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore that weird feeling in his chest as you kept holding his hand, not letting go even when you had the chance to.

Later that night, you were able to get five hours of sleep before Natasha came in to wake you up and you got ready. When she noticed how your eyes had lost the light to them and your shoulders slumped as you boarded the jet, she knew something was up.

Guilt clawed at your insides. You should’ve told him you loved him before you left, you idiot. What if you don’t make it back alive? Hm?

A set of footsteps echoing across the hangar bay suddenly made you turn around. You turned around to see Steve, jogging towards you and calling out your name. Knowing it was only a matter of minutes before you finished boarding and took off for a mission thousands of miles away, with very little ways of communication as you were supposed to be as discreet as possible when undercover, he didn't want you to leave without saying goodbye.

A mix of surprise and relief is on your face when you see him. You shake your head and give him a reassuring look, that everything was going to be okay and you'd be just fine.

"What are you doing here? You should be sleeping," your brows furrowed together in confusion as you unloaded your weapons, tying up your combat boots. "I thought you—"

Steve quickly comes forward and crushes you into a tight embrace that tells you he's going to miss you much more than he's letting on. You were quick to return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him back, resting your head against his broad chest.

"Stay safe out there," he murmured into your hair, pressing a light, fleeting kiss to the top of your hair.

You don't question his sudden act of sentiment, and just gave him a small smile in response. "Don't worry. I will."

With that, you turned around, stepping back up the ramp with Natasha. The gates to the hangar bay slid open, and within seconds you had taken off.

Steve stands there for a while even after the Quinjet is out of his sight, and it's only when Bucky pulls him back inside that he realizes he's been standing there for over an hour without moving at all.

The first few weeks pass by in a blur. He hardly eats, he hardly sleeps, he hardly even gets up for his morning runs or trains at all. After the first two months came and went, Tony grew rather concerned seeing him deteriorate and decided to ask him what was going on.

"Tony, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are. What's up with you? You haven't eaten a solid meal in over two months. You've lost some weight around your face, you almost look like a skeleton. When you haven't gone on your morning runs in forever, I should have a reason to be worried about you, Cap."

"It's been five weeks and she hasn't checked in with us yet," he stated plainly, gulping down his third cup of coffee of the day. "She should've called a week ago."

"God, I never thought you'd be the one to get so worked up over a girl," the billionaire let out a long sigh, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well at the kitchen counter before taking a seat at the island next to him, "but here we are now."

"What if she got injured?"

"Her and Nat are looking out for each other. I'm sure she's fine. She's going to be okay, so why don't you eat something solid for once? Tell me what you wanna order, I'll get it for you."

Thanks, Tony. I'll take Thai." (You and Steve often ate Thai takeout together.)

"Anytime."

Way over in Ukraine, you and Natasha were sitting on the bed in your hotel room watching the news on TV in silence because neither one of you felt like sleeping yet, until she decided to speak up.

"Why haven't you called Rogers yet?"

"I...don't know."

"He's gotta be missing you like hell, you know."

"I know. And I miss him too...a bit too much. That's why I can't call him. Because every time I hear his voice or see something that reminds me of him, it makes me fall even more in love with him and I can't afford having that. I don't want to risk getting hurt. Besides...I already summoned every last ounce of willpower to write that letter."

"You really should give him a call. It's not doing your heart any good to purposely drain yourself of him."

"Fine."

Steve had somehow allowed himself to get roped into a Mario Kart showdown with Bucky and Sam, when his phone suddenly lit up with a familiar number he could recognize anywhere. Your contact picture filled up the screen: you grinning wildly as his arms wrapped around you from behind, Pietro photobombing in the back as he made heart signs with his hands.

He picked up the phone and answered it after only one ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Steve," you spoke over the phone, "how's it going?"

"Hey," he couldn't help but break into a smile, "are you alright?"

"Yeah. We got the data files downloaded onto the flash drive and then destroyed it yesterday. So for now, we're just waiting around and maybe doing some tours of Kyiv while we have time."

"What time is it over there?"

"Half past midnight. You?"

"2:30."

"How are you holding up?"

Bucky and Sam looked over at that exact moment, wiggling their eyebrows up and down as they gestured for Steve to say something. "I'm doing fine. Got pulled into a Mario Kart deathmatch with the two idiots."

"Tell Bucky and Sam I send my regards and that I'm bringing back those baguettes I promised for when we stop over in Paris," you told him.

"I will. It's good to hear your voice, Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at those words. "It's good to hear your voice, too. Look, I'm sorry...but it's getting late, and my data on my phone is low, Fury didn't give me an unlimited plan so I gotta go now. See you soon."

"Okay. Try to get some good sleep, alright? I don't want you getting hurt because you didn't get a good night's rest the night before. See you."

"COME ON, MAN!" Sam yelled as soon as you hung up. "You didn't even have the decency to say 'I love you?'"

"I love her, but not like that."

"Sure you don't. I saw the way your face lit up when you picked up the phone."

"Two months," the super-soldier let out a sigh of disappointment, setting down the controller to watch him and Bucky tear each other apart on Rainbow Road, "two more months."

He picked up his phone again and clicked on his camera roll, mindlessly beginning to scroll through until one picture caught his eye. It was during summer break when you were vacationing in the Bahamas for two weeks along with several SHIELD agents, and Coulson had taken the team picture. Fury had somehow been convinced to come along as well.

As his eyes scanned all the faces in the picture, he came across himself and noticed that he wasn't smiling at the camera, but at you instead, and you were doing the same. Both of you, gazing into each others' eyes as if the two of you were the only people left on Earth.

He felt a pang in his chest as he realized, at that moment, that he was in love with you and hadn't gotten the chance to tell you so before you left. And now, it could be too late.

The letter ends up reaching Steve much faster than you'd anticipated it to. The next day, he went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in his room last time you’d had a movie night together and comes across a single sheet of paper lying out on your desk.

All the color quickly drains from his face when he realizes this wasn't actually meant for him to read. He knows what he'd just done was wrong, but the fact that he was so oblivious to how you felt about him makes him feel even worse.

...

The mission had gone extremely well. You and Natasha were in and out of that base probably faster than you could summon Tony after yelling out that one of his suits had been tampered with.

Natasha thought it'd be fun to surprise him by coming back a month early and could tell instantly that you loved the idea, judging by the way your eyes lit up when you boarded the Quinjet.

You decided to call him again on the flight back as she sat at the front piloting the jet.

"Steve?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"Uh...I'm afraid there's been a change of plans."

"What plans?" His voice quickly grew worried as he tried masking his disappointment at the fact that you weren't announcing your return.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, I'm sorry, but...I just wanted to call you to update you on what's happening. Signal's not very good up here, Nat and I are flying out again so I'll call you when we touch down."

"Okay. Talk to you in a bit."

After making a quick pit stop at a bakery in Paris, you were up in the skies again, zipping back towards the Avengers HQs where the rest of the team was waiting.

"You know, I think Rogers is in love with you," Natasha gave you a knowing look as you touched down.

"What makes you think that?"

"When you guys were going after Bucky...I think that's when it all happened."

"But that was several years ago?"

"Exactly."

You unbuckled your seatbelts and stood up, picking up your duffel bags as the opening gates dropped down and you stepped off the ramp to an awaiting Bucky, Sam, Clint and Peter.

"Y/N!" Peter rushed forward, squeezing you in a tight hug. "Hi! You're home early!"

"Yeah, I am," you grinned ruffling his hair as you pulled apart. "You make sure Bucky and Sam didn't misbehave?"

Sam shot you a glare as Peter replied. "Well, they were alright. Happy dropped me off here yesterday and I monitored their Mario Kart matches to make sure nobody killed someone, so yeah. Clint was good too."

You went over to Bucky as Natasha went to talk to Sam and Clint about mission details."

"Y/L/N."

"Barnes."

"How was the flight?" His hard expression softened slight as he gave you a quick hug. "I heard everything went pretty well."

"Yeah, it was okay. A bit jet-lagged, but other than that I'm fine. And speaking of flight! I got you guys something."

You motioned for Nat to bring the box of pastries from the jet, and as soon as she did everyone's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Dude, you're the best," Sam exclaimed as he bit into an eclair. "I love Parisian pastries."

"We don't wanna be here too long, now do we?" Clint spoke up. "Y/N, I think you have a special someone to surprise inside."

"Oh?" you raised an eyebrow at the archer before following him and the others inside the compound.

Steve was busy reading a news article on his phone at the kitchen island, sitting there in a plain grey T-shirt and dark jeans when he looked up and met your gaze.

"Hey, soldier," you greeted with a smirk, "miss me?"

His face broke into a grin as he set his phone down. "You're back early."

"Fury was a bit more lenient this time," you shrugged, taking your hands out of your jacket pockets, "so he let us go. Since we got the job done pretty fast."

He chuckled lightly, pulling you close in response and wrapping his strong arms around you. "I'm glad you're back."

"So I take it you really missed me, huh."

"You could put it that way."

"Like hell he missed you. You should've seen him while you were gone, Christ," Sam groaned. "He wouldn't eat anything solid for an entire week."

"Oh!" Wanda piped up, "I believe he has something to tell you? Right, Steve?"

"No, I don't?"

"Uh, we'll leave now, then," Clint awkwardly cleared his throat. "Let's give these two a minute."

With that, they calmly filed out of the kitchen, leaving the two of you to yourselves.

"You look tired," Steve raised an eyebrow at you as he noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

"You look worse," you joked, earning a small laugh from him as you circled your arms around his torso. "I'm just a bit jet-lagged. The ten hour time difference wasn't very kind to me."

"Well, I'm glad you're back," he breathed out, "I missed you."

"Ah, there it is," you mumbled into his chest. "But yeah, I missed you too. And here I was starting to think Captain America didn't have the heart to care for someone so much."

"Only for you, Y/N," he chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, "only for you."

“Wait a second,” you pulled away and saw a familiar piece of paper sticking out of his jacket pocket, “what’s that?”

Your eyes widened as you pulled it out and realized it was the letter you’d written him several months back. “Oh shit...”

“Was I not supposed to read this?’

“NO!”

“It was addressed to me, though...?”

“I never meant for you to read it!” you hissed, “Now give it back!”

“Ah ah ah! I don’t think so.”

You let out an annoyed groan, going up on your tiptoes to try and snatch the paper out of his hand. “Screw you, Rogers. Why do you have to be so damn tall?”

You jumped up and down in an attempt to get the letter back for several minutes until you finally gave up, arms growing sore. When he towered half a foot above you, it was hopeless.

Your hands landed against his chest as you let them fall and you just stood there for a few seconds, or minutes, maybe, in utter silence, with his warm breath falling against your neck and you hated yourself for wanting this moment to last longer. 

The air was suddenly buzzing with anticipation, like the world was holding its breath to see what was to come next. Steve’s gaze lingered on your lips before he tilted his head downwards, placing a hand on the small of your back and pulling you in for a kiss. 

His lips met your own so softly, so gently that you swore that you were dreaming for a split second, and you let out a sigh as your arms slid around his waist and tightened their grip around him. 

“In case I haven’t made it obvious enough, either,” he hummed, “I’m in love with you too.”

You felt heat rise up your cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to read that!”

“Too bad,” he smirked, resting his chin on your head, “I read it already, three times. You bet I’ll be keeping this for myself.”

“I hate you so much.”

“That’s not what the letter says.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine! I love you.”

Steve laughed lightly. “I love you too, Y/N.”

[sugar-petals]

Can u introduce yuzuru to us the caro way?👀

so you want to know about the one and only. ♡😌

yuzuru hanyū (25) of sendai, japan: the most beautiful ice prince with a heart of gold.

….an artist clearly not of this world, he’s been sent to us from another realm. 19 world records, two olympics won, dubbed the greatest figure skater of all time. and the most precious bean on top of that.

but let’s start from the beginning, shall we ♥︎

so, want to spot yuzu on the ice? use this checklist. slender silhouette, an even slimmer waist, feather-like outfits (he sketches those himself; the fandom lovingly calls him swanyu), soft blushy face. he has great androgyny.

outside of performances, you see him either with a deer’s gaze or the brightest, biggest eye smile. also, he’s usually found sitting with his wife: 

which is the ice 😄 these two are together forever. you can discern yuzu from a mile away by how he treats his working ground. 

there is a purity to him. you’d not guess that this is one of the most ardent athletes if you didn’t see what’s around his neck after competitions. the guy’s cuteness is as compelling as his skating technique.

look for it: yuzu’s face is super suave and rosy up close, even after his most energetic performances. some men are handsome, others pretty, he is both. 

even acoustically, he’s hard to miss. applause is all around, and he’s highly expressive. if you see a crying young man getting the high score, that’s yuzuru hanyu. you’ve not seen more beautiful happy tears.

and score reactions, anyway:

so, aye loves, the rumors are true. a cutie-pie off the ice, animated, a real unabashed meme — yuzu is easy-going, talkative. cheery, cheeky, one of a kind. his facial expressions are a league of their own.

if you thought this is the sort of guy who watches cat videos, you are correct 😄

yuz-uwu hanyu, everybody:

his undoubtedly feline behaviour is often unexpected, it stands out with its adorableness, too. a sweetheart par excellence. 

and, how else could it be: vice versa, the big beast on the rink. he’s cutesy, dorky, very well-spoken in daily life, but when it comes to skating, his seriousness escalates. you blink once and suddenly hanyu is a bedazzling, strutting lion :’D his performances stun with confident elegance.

he becomes full of ardor, drama, and focus. you’d never suspect so much fire burns in him. a showman and ambition icon, hands down. 

his skating is dynamic, perfected, and emotional. if you want to see art and the extra mile, tune in when hanyu competes.

the downside is; more light, more shadow. it leaves him crawling on the ice afterwards. yuzu performs so hard, it’s worrying.

he delivers it all. you won’t believe it:

this guy is an asthmatic.

the symptoms aren’t as bad as they used to be, but there are still regular attacks. he said that he’ll never take it as an excuse and often recalls how he started skating because of it. he’s a badass, extremely inspiring. yuzuru defies all limits, including gravity. his jumps have legendary status. 

off the rink, you guessed it: he turns into a wholly different person. 

it all dissolves completely when he’s dorking around again. 

don’t let it deceive you, he’s the no other option than first place type. he could not be any more decorated with titles, he achieved the grand slam in all competitions as of 2020. and still, king of sportsmanship hanyu is respectful and smiley towards all colleagues and never lets anyone feel left out. especially when it comes to his juniors (e.g. yuma kagiyama, 16, below) which says a lot about him.

he bows in every direction before an audience, too. lower than a 90° angle, even. this is more polite than any existing formality in japan.

talk about audience: i introduced fellow japanese skater shoma uno last week, who’s more uncomfortable with social contact and aggression. yuzu, extrovert he is: the exact opposite. he withers away with no people and competition. he’s befriended rivals, had crises over not having someone who could challenge him. when a competitor retires, he’s the one crying in their arms (e.g. with team mate and bff javier fernandez from spain below).

beside his competitive spirit and princely wow factor, hanyu is popular for his winnie pooh tissue box that he caresses, squeezes, and carries everywhere. he loves good luck charms & rituals, pooh is the most important one.

fans throw pooh plushies on the ice after his performances because of it. since it’s gotten so intense, yuzu recently started cleaning them up himself on top of the flower girls for the upcoming skater who could get delayed otherwise. (more about what happens with the piles of plushies later.)

so, the burning question is. 

what made yuzuru hanyu emerge so outstanding an entertainer? how does someone causing so much uproar become like that? it’s not just what kind of appearance he was given, although he really looks his part to a T. you don’t have to be an insider to see it right away.

like literally to a fault. and you can tell the way his blades sound on the ice is different. it’s soft even if he does the most hardcore quadruple jumps. i think it’s because his drive to do this is a higher one, hanyu has an altered relationship with the ice. where his devotion comes from has a more severe reason so, massive trigger warning. 

this is no exaggeration: yuzuru is considered a hero to the japanese. a survivor of the earthquake 2011, he narrowly escaped the collapsing rink in his hometown on that very day. he’s often talked about how the ice shattered underneath his feet and it was the moment that defined his life forever. he could have been dead by the age of 16. his motivation has been set ever since. this man is compelled by something bigger, that’s why you hear it and you feel it. he wants to skate not just for himself but others and seize every day. 

much of his copious charity work — that’s where all the pooh plushies go — went to mend the consequences of the tsunami ever since, he’s looked upon as a great hope in japan. the minister gave him the people’s honor award in 2018. 

now you know why yuzuru has such a fanbase and treats the ice as sacred, you see it in every gesture. his manners are without a single flaw, he helps staff repair the ice after performances. 

you might think it’s odd, but he honors the ground. he’s invested in the integrity of it. that’s why he’s the best skater. it’s gratitude and the will to live fully.

he hates to fall on the ice, he hates to damage it. alongside his feathery weight, that’s why the sound he makes while gliding along is so tender. 

i think that’s also why hanyu’s signature element is the ina bauer. it doesn’t rely on brutal force, instead this element slides across the rink like a swan. yeah, oh my god.

it’s his most well-known dramatic move. the way he surrenders into it. 

hanyu’s back arch and perfect split allow him to do elements no other male skaters can. his biellmann spin, for instance. i know, it’s ridiculous.

and those are just two elements of dozens and dozens. hanyu is a kinetic wizard. i highly rec this record-breaking delivery of his olympic program. in front of his home crowd! he’s just… mind-boggling. i live for his smiles here.

exceptional skater, exceptional mentor: it’s time we look at another puzzle piece that made yuzu the way he is. the masterful brian orser is hanyu’s beloved coach. missing gold by just one mistake at the olympics 1988, brian is now committed to give others what he couldn’t have— successfully so.

orser took the ice prince to gold twice, this hasn’t happened in 66 years. brian is the nicest and most supportive pooh carrier and yuzu’s utmost rock. hanyu’s talent rests safely in these hands.

he gets strict about punctuality lmao! but other than that, his guidance is gentle. canadian he is, brian’s courteousness mixes well with yuzu’s politeness. their bond is strong. as. hell. 

brian picked up yuzu from rock bottom several times. most fateful being hanyu’s accident with a fellow skater during competition warm-ups nov 2014. they collided at a high speed, it was unspeakably nasty. yuzu got knocked out for half a minute and had grave breathing problems but still decided to skate on with what later turned out as an almost-concussion. brian was the most worried ice dad in the world that day.

yuzu cried and crouched and bled like mad and my heart has been broken ever since. i hope he never suffers like that again. promise me you don’t search up the video, it’s a harrowing watch like a stab to the chest. sadly enough, hanyu’s body has still been a notorious wreck, esp. ankle issues regularly give him a hard time 😔

it hurts like a bitch with every jump landing but he takes meds and still manages to win, god knows how. sometimes even with crutches on the podium. at his worst, he’s still the best, it’s a tragedy.

he’s been recovering, or always is, but he pushes himself through injuries. his ambition and perfectionism are boundless. the cause is more important to him than his well-being. this is not an easy guy to stan once you see how he sacrifices and self-destructs. so, it’s good someone protects him. 

mostly from himself because nobody has profoundly surpassed hanyu. he has let himself no choice than to contest himself. not even health, only age can stop yuzu. i think that brian understands this ‘curse of a genius’ effect. his mere presence can make hanyu say these rare words:

his two other coaches contribute to that. tracy wilson (left) has proven to understand his playful side the best while ghislain briand (right) helps yuzuru deal with his fears. so you got 3 people taking care of the golden boy. brian once said: “he is very sheltered” and you can see it’s true.

yuzu eased into learning english and communicates well with his coaches. like with everything, he studies hard and often forces himself to speak during interviews to practice. his skills are astounding. his speaking voice is also very soothing, very amicably low and high alike. yuzu is highly intelligent. he always says something eloquent and interesting.

now, privately, hanyu is very much like you’d expect someone so devoted to skating would be like. he doesn’t go out, has no social media, can’t eat nor sleep very well. no cameras allowed during practice. it figures he is attached to winnie pooh, think about it. in the cartoon, pooh is someone who sleeps, eats, and engages with friends plenty. 

these are the things hanyu can’t do, doesn’t have time/energy/incentive for. he is barred from balance in life but can at least admire this little carefree plushie for it. especially because pooh represents eating lots while yuzuru doesn’t have a good relationship with food (he says it doesn’t go well with jumps etc.), hanyu lives vicariously through him. 

what’s more, you have to see how he throws himself onto others and never wants to let go, yuzuru is extremely cuddly. 

to the degree that mere social customs can’t meet how much he really needs. so, what else can he resort to, he loves mascots and plushies. it’s how the tale goes in japan generally, tough work ethic, high responsibility, high pressure, so people turn to cute fluffy things.

he always fondles pooh’s head, even pretends he’s come to life so he has someone to snuggle with. i think that his isolated lifestyle doesn’t help. so, he gets his affection at least there, you can see how happy it makes him. and again: he does this all for charity.

that’s why fellow skaters are so important to hanyu. it really brings out his social spirit and comforts him best, it’s so wholesome. i’ve not seen someone react so relieved to being embraced, like he’s not been touched for months. skating this, skating that. at the end of the day, hanyu wants love.

as he once said, what motivates him is to express himself in the first place. hanyu is a romantic. it’s written all over him. it reflects in his music choices, his elegant motion, how he designs his outfits:

… and how thoughtfully he talks about marriage. he has big plans for starting a family and coaching after he retires. i won’t be the only one squeezing lucky charm pooh in my imagination so it turns out well for him. please make this heart of gold heal and see all his wishes come true ♡🐻

[clownattack]

Castor - character bio

I’ve been struggling with getting a bio out for Cas for waaaaay too long now, but i feel pretty ok with how it looks currently - i'm going to repost it on my art blog with some drawings of Cas and Hjalle in the future (hopefully). If you want to skip most of the nonsense and just get a feel for her personality, the section under the bio paragraphs is FULL OF POINTS.

links to drawn refs here and here

Longpost under the cut

✦ Early life in Hjalle:

Being born into the noble family Aran, Castor’s early life consisted mostly of being pampered by the attendants and strict education. Cas was a rowdy kid, and with time, lack of affection and validation from her family served to amplify the trait - she went from occasionally disobedient to full-on antagonistic towards her parents, and the nobility as a whole. She began to sneak out; spending her time outside of the Fort, spying on the guards and trying to bribe knights into taking her on as a page.

When Cas turned nine a sibling came into the picture, and she made it her duty to assure Aster’s upbringing would be better than hers. She poured everything she had into Aster, but soon developed a brash and overbearing streak, unyielding in her focus to teach the meek little sister to stand her ground. Aster became torn between Cas and the parents, who in all fairness, treated her much better than their firstborn. This would remain the case until Castor’s dragon-induced injuries.

In her late teens, Cas was seldom seen in the fort - to everyone's great relief. Her mood was always sour, she gave up on her studies and only seemed to care about Aster and joining the hunting parties. Her parents reached their limit when Castor announced she would not become one of the renowned judges of House Aran - this led to an explosive argument, which concluded with Castor storming out. For the following two years, she lived and worked with rangers tasked with protecting and providing for the town.

It was in those years that Cas acquired her battle prowess and scars, the most prominent being a gift from an especially large and angry dragon. A single swipe of its tail tore Castor’s chest and forearm open, forcing the hunting party to rush her to the fort in (what the hunters expected to be) a futile attempt to get her family to provide medical help for their dying kin. The reception was cold indeed, and if it weren’t for Aster’s hysterics and outrage over her family’s indifference, Cas would have not survived the grievous wounds. The upside to this event was a new high tale to impress people with, and strengthening the bond between two sisters. The downside - Castor was now under her parent’s thumb. They made her accept the position of inquisitor; to make up for the hassle she caused them. Taking up the mantle turned Castor’s world upside down - not only would she have to work in close proximity to her father, but her dreams of being knighted were shattered, as inquisitorial duties stand in stark opposition to virtues of knighthood. As Inquisitor she was tasked with investigating and interrogating for the court - the latter, as Aran tradition had it, was extraordinarily bloody.

 ✦ Vesuvia:

Almost as soon as she arrived, the city sparked something in Cas. This was unexpected to say the least; she was certain the years of gruesome work as inquisitor numbed her to simple joys of life. The sights and sounds of Vesuvia however, made her eager to explore and see how everything ticked - and the more she saw the more she wished to remain in the city. After attending the Masquerade and becoming acquainted with Asra, Cas was prepared to do anything to stay - even if it meant sucking up to the Buffoon count and begging for a job. Lucio proved to be anything but opposed - he’d heard of the “bloody good shows” (pun intended) Castor was infamous for, and was eager to take her off her parents hands. This led to working parallel to the count and his court, but also enabled Cas to dabble in magic under Asra’s tutelage.

This slight betterment of Cas’ situation would not last long however, as The Red Plague took complete hold of the city mere months after she took up her residence in Vesuvia. After perishing, and being brought back by Asra, she very slowly regains certain memories and traits - her sister, love of astronomy, sword skills. She sneaks out, snoops, and is a handful overall; but Asra is happy to see Castor’s “new” self free of bitterness and pain.

After this point, the “game events” take place. I like to imagine Castor braving an amalgam of Nadia and Portia routes, with a fistful (or multiple) of courtier drama. Castor is tasked with an investigation, slowly  but surely unravelling how deep the corruption runs in Vesuvia, and how much of it can be attributed to the courtiers. The conclusion of her story focuses on first facing off against the court, then the Justice Arcana.

  ✦ Physical appearance

Light olive skin, she picks up a slight tan in Vesuvia.

Dark gray eyes, striking marbling on the iris.

Long girl - 176 cm tall, loves being the “tall friend” (and manhandling people close to her). Being taller than her is taken as an indirect challenge.

She has a rectangular body type, could be described as a “runner’s body”.

Prominent scarring across right forearm and torso, missing right breast.

Tastefully disheveled. Her hair has a constantly windswept quality, and the gray streaks seem to be especially unruly.

Inherited the “Aran silver” (early graying), she tries to ignore it. “The more you hide it, the more it shows”.

Secretly really bothered by the many similarities to her father. Avoids looking at herself too much, and whenever she does it feels like he’s looking back at her, judging.

Only ever smoothes herself over before important court meetings and social events. She doesn't know how makeup works, so before any party she asks Asra to sort her out. Cas looking prim is both a treat and a source of friendly jabs.

✦ Character traits

Power walking by default. This can be somewhat intimidating, and she won’t stop if someone is in her way - just put them to the side and continue.

Puts up a really convincing pretence of formality and refinement.

In actuality she finds this facade tiresome, and just wants to talk fast about battle/hunting feats or astronomy. Maybe show off her pyromancy.

Loves socializing, it recharges her batteries.

Dilligent worker.

Tends to overwork herself and neglect her relationships.

Often scatter minded and wanting to do too many things at one time.

Doesn’t appreciate people instigating physical contact or getting up in her face. She needs to prepare herself for it, or be the initiator.

Stubborn as a mule. Never knows when to stop pressing people.

Extremely callous at times.

Annoyingly overbearing

Most of this springs from a place of fear - things had a habit of getting worse whenever her family imposed decisions onto her. In her mind, if she’s the one holding the reins, everything will be better. And if something does fail - she will be the only one to blame.

Starting arguments comes much too easily to her, but she’s just as quick to introspect, and seek out the person she argued with to apologize and approach the issue in an appropriate manner.

Forgives easily

Eternally scoffing at astrology. She knows shes being bigoted, but at this point its almost like an inside joke between her and Asra. “Astrology? It's baby stuff. PSEUDOSCIENCE!” (she cries as she worries over her afternoon tarot reading and preparing pretty horoscopes for the Shop...)

A huge hypocrite at times. “Do as I say, not as I do” could easily be her motto.

Both the upright and reversed Knight of Swords card sums her character up perfectly.

✦ Occupation & Residency

Vesuvia:

Beginning of her story follows the game canon almost to a T - Cas lives with Asra in the Shop, and works there. It bores her to death, and she plays tricks on every customer just to entertain herself.

After being officially hired by Nadia as the Palace Magician, Castor moves out of the shop and purchases a modest house in Goldgrave, much below the value of what Nadia offered her, and what she could afford. It’s convenient and that’s what matters to Cas. She continues supplying the shop diligently, and takes over whenever Asra runs off.

Nadia insisted on Castor having an office in the palace. It grew on her with time, and after The Devil is dealt with it becomes her little “hub”.

Hjalle:

Cas lived with her family in the castle site until 17 years old.

After denying her parents their plans for her future as a judge, she hunkered down in a hunting lodge outside of the town, and spent almost two years living that way - she still thinks of these two years as the most joyous time in her life.

The only thing she ever used her family’s wealth for was commissioning the construction of an extravagant observatory. Reminiscent of a gothic fortress, the stark exterior is contrasted with insides filled with artwork and art-nouveau ornaments. The central chamber is a vast library with a powerful telescope in its apse - it is a sight that could take the breath of the most haughty of nobles.

There’s a tiny living space below the main chamber, furnished sparingly, but with a lovely fireplace (in Hjalle, its a necessity). It’s where Cas stays after becoming the inquisitor/whenever she visits after the in-game events.

✦ Trivia

Cas is 23 years old when she first arrives to Vesuvia - 28 at the time of The Devil’s downfall.

She freed Merlin from a merchant’s cage in the Red Market, during one of her outings in the three year interlude after her death - Asra fumes after they find out she snuck out to the market - yet is amazed that Cas found a familiar.

Cas regained her first memories via touching objects linked to her past life - a letter from Aster, articles of clothing, a sword...

This self re-discovering takes a turn for the worse when Cas finally finds a large, ornate knife - the one she inherited after becoming inquisitor. The memories it resurfaces are a staggering blow to Castor, completely derailing the beliefs she had about her own person. She thought of herself as a paragon, and remembering the torture she inflicted upon others, the lives taken in the name of “justice” made her relapse into bitterness and disenchantment. She deals with those feelings as her investigation into the courtiers progresses.

Predominantly uses pyromancy, other types of magic are strictly used for her work at the palace, and rather sparingly.

Could be best described as a battlemage - enjoys being in melee range and assaulting her quarry with both sword and fire; the latter being used more as a way to distract or stagger the enemy than actually harm. There's no fun in just burning them up!

Doesn’t cook for herself, although she has a natural knack for it - will only cook for guests and short people.

Her dislike of Lucio clashes with gratitude for employing her when she first arrived to Vesuvia - he was the knife which cut Cas off from her parents, and it’s something she could never forget.

Demiromatic/sexual.

She was offered to be knighted by Nadia after defeating The Devil. Cas declined - It’s much more than a title to her, and accepting seemed like mockery (considering her past as inquisitor).

Short fuse, she learns to better control herself while working in the palace. But if someone really pushes her the nearby candles miiiight get a bit out of control. Or she’ll just throttle them.

Hates her full name - Castor is such a mouthful. Sounds stuck up too...

[godboundrpgfans]

Guts in Godbound

  Guts, the Black Swordsman.

  One of the most badass characters in fiction.

  Not just for his sheer, unadulterated power and being everything a 90s Anti-Hero is expected to be, but also for being everything that a 90s Anti-Hero isn’t expected to be.

  Guts is a much more complex character than first glances would have you believe, and I don’t think I could do his character justice by talking about it here.

  Thankfully, that’s not why I’m here.

  I’m here because I was bored and got the bright idea to use the Godbound Character Creation System to create Guts.

  Why? Cause why the fuck not?

  Now before we start, I’m going to be doing two version of this character creation.

  The first will follow the standard character creation for a Godbound. You roll up/pick attributes, pick three Words, etc. For this, I will be creating Guts when he was still in the Band of the Hawk, right before he left. Since you could kind of consider that his “peak” before the Eclipse.

  The second version will be the same, except I won’t be using the 6 Point limit that the game gives you at the start. Instead, I will just give Guts any and all Gifts/Artifacts and otherwise that I believe he should have at this point in the Berserk Manga.

  With that out of the way, let’s begin!

  Standard Creation:

  Attribute Scores:

  8, 16, 13, 10, 12, 18

  I’ll wait until after I choose Words since those will have an affect on the Scores.

  Facts:

  Grew up in a Mercenary Band

The Raiding Captain for the Band of the Hawks

Has formed a deep friendship with all of the major members

  Since this is Guts before the Eclipse, I feel these would be the best Facts to use as his Origin, Past Profession, and Relationship.

  Armor: Medium (AC 5; -4 Save Penalty)

Weapon: Greatsword (1d10; Heavy)

Goals: Find his own Dream so he can stand next to Griffith.

  I’ll put the penalty towards Evasion (Guts was never known to be very dodgy).

  Divine Powers/Words:

  Sword (He’s been using a Greatsword since he was about 5 years old. It’d make sense he’s really fucking good with them)

  Endurance (Guts is fucking durable. Seriously, even before he became the Black Swordsman he was surviving shit that would kill normal people. See his fight with Zodd or Wyald for examples)

  Luck (I was going to put Might here, but as strong as Guts is, during his time as Raider Captain in the Band of the Hawk, he didn’t do anything that really showed off physical strength. Most of the crazy shit he did (such as break through a cast iron door) was with his Sword. So, instead I’m choosing Luck as, let’s face it, Guts has been exceedingly lucky during most of his fights. While it hasn’t exactly made his life sunshine and rainbows, it’s allowed him to survive fight after fight when paired with his unending willpower)

  Now to set up the Attribute Scores:

  Str: 18 (+3): Check: 3

Dex: 13 (+1): Check: 8

Con: 18 (+3): Check 3

Int: 8 (-1): Check: 13

Wis: 12 (+0): Check: 9

Char: 10 (+0): Check: 11

  And here’s our final scores. I set Strength and Constitution the highest for obvious reason (go watch any montage of Guts and you’ll understand). Dexterity is the way it is cause, while Guts is fast, he’s not exactly someone I could see dodging all over the place like a ninja. He’s a much bigger and easier to hit target than someone like, say, Griffith. Wisdom and Charisma are the way they are cause Guts is perceptive, just not too perceptive. On top of that, while he himself is very gruff and not much of a smooth talker, he does seem to attract the opposite sex to him a lot….even the same sex to an extent. And Intelligence is the lowest stat cause….well obvious reasons. Guts is not book smart in the slightest. He knows a lot about surviving on his own or in the wilderness, but he won’t be solving any advanced math problems.

Gifts:

Defy the Iron (While not necessarily negating the damage, Guts is able to ignore most attacks and keep moving even when they should be fatal)

Nine Lives (The dude seems to always luck out on events that would kill him. Look at his fight against Gambino or Bazuso)

Unerring Blade (Do I even need to explain why he gets this one?)

Cutting the Crimson Road (I was actually having trouble deciding between this or Shattering Hand. In the end I chose this one, since one of his most defining moments is when he fought 100 soldiers and won).

Body of Iron Will (Just to give him an AC of 3 and represent how his body is tough as shit).

  With that, here’s what the final Character Sheet Looks like for Guts:

  Name: Guts

  Facts:

Grew up in a Mercenary Band

The Raiding Captain for the Band of the Hawks

Has formed a deep friendship with all of the major members

  Attributes:

  Str: 18 (+3): Check: 3

Dex: 13 (+1): Check: 8

Con: 18 (+3): Check 3

Int: 8 (-1): Check: 13

Wis: 12 (+0): Check: 9

Char: 10 (+0): Check: 11

  Words:

Sword

Endurance

Luck

  Gifts:

Defy the Iron

Nine Lives

Unerring Blade

Cutting the Crimson Road

Body of Iron Will

  Weapons: Greatsword (1d10; Heavy; Atk Bonus: +1; Attribute Bonus: Str)

  Armor: Medium (AC 5; -4 Penalty to a Save)

  AC: 3

  HP: 11

  Saves:

Hardiness (Con): 12

Evasion (Dex): 18 (Base 14)

Spirit: (Wis): 15

  And here we are, Guts before he became the Black Swordsman as a Godbound. Now then, on to what I would give him if I had full freedom and didn’t have to worry about point limits.

  Free Version:

  I’m keeping the same Attribute Scores, but the Facts will be different:

  Facts:

  Grew up in a Mercenary Band

The Raiding Captain for the Band of the Hawks

Has formed a deep friendship with all of the major members

Is marked by the Brand of Sacrifice

Has given up his Revenge against Griffith to protect/help Casca, the woman he loves

Has killed over 1,000 Demons

Wields the Dragonslayer

Wears the Berserker Armor

Is haunted by his Beast of Darkness

His companions keep him grounded

He lost his arm and eye, now he has a mechanical arm.

  These are all of the obvious Facts that would be included after the current part of the manga.

  Following that, I would add in these Words:

  Might (By this point, and with the help of his mechanical arm, he has shown that his physical strength is just as strong as an Apostle’s)

  Peak Human (Guts has gone well beyond the realm of a normal mortal by this point. He has proven that, despite not having any real, inherent magical powers, he is able to go toe-to-toe with Apostles, Sea Gods, Demons, Constructs, and just about any supernatural creature that steps in his path. By now, I’d say he’s right on the cusp of being Superhuman)

  Vengeance (Though he has given up on getting revenge against Griffith, it is still a defining characteristic for him, and something he draws strength from)

  Gifts:

  Fear No Steel (At this point, normal weapons are like tickles to Guts.)

Fist of Black Iron (He literally has a fist of black iron)

Loosening God’s Teeth (He can cut an Apostle in half with one swing of his sword)

Contempt of Distance (Guts seems to be able to move to wherever the hell he wants when he needs to kill something)

Thirsting Razor (There are normally too many enemies in front of Guts for him to even worry about hitting Mobs)

All Natural (Guts’ abilities don’t really appear very magical, and that’s because most of them aren’t. Alot of them are from either pure sweat and hard work, determination, or his own equipment)

Mortal’s Luck (The dude never stays down)

Trained Aim (He always seems to hit whatever he aims at…it’s just that most things he aims at has enough armor or scaled hide to resist it)

Human Grit (And how. The dude is able to heal from fatal wounds faster than any other human in his world)

Indomitable Will (Do I really have to explain this one?)

Street Sweeper (Have you seen the size of his sword?)

Bloody Vengeance (Guts loves to use all or nothing attacks that immensely damage both him and his enemy)

Shattering Hand (Dragonslayer. That is all)

  Artifacts:

  Dragonslayer:

  A great sword that is like a hunk of raw iron. This blade has bathed in the blood of so many demons that it now rest on both the Mortal and Astral planes, turning it into a magical weapon that can harm both spiritual and physical creatures. Due to its massive size, it can also be used to block projectiles and smash through any type of armor.

Effort: 5

Hunk of Raw Iron (Greater Gift): As an Action, the wielder may Commit Effort from the artifact to launch an attack at every enemy within sight, doing a maximum of 1 damage even on a miss. Mobs are automatically hit for 1d10+15 rolled straight.

Too Thick, Too Rough (Lesser Gift): As an Action, Commit Effort from the artifact to immediately break any armor, weapon, or piece of equipment in range of the sword. Any magical substance is not destroyed, but damaged to the point where it is almost useless.

The Berserker Armor:

  An ancient, magical armor from the time of the first Emperor, the Berserker Armor is a black and spiked. It completely encases the wearer when it is equipped. It is considered heavy armor and can defend against most attacks, including magical ones. However, the armor’s true ability comes from its power to lock off the wielder’s nervous system, pushing their body to heights that a normal human could never reach. There is a downside to this, as the armor will remove the wielder’s sense of self and cause them to view everything as an enemy. On top of this, the armor does not heal the wearer, instead holding their body together and preventing them from dying to any injury. Once all living creatures have been defeated, all of the wearer’s damage will return full force and can kill them instantly if it is more than their HP can handle.

Effort 10

Unstoppable Rampage (Greater Gift): Commit Effort from the Artifact to immediately gain three bonus Attacks that can be used on this round only.

Jump Good (Lesser Gift): Commit Effort from the Artifact to instantly leap to any spot within double your movement speed. This does not count as an Action.

Beast of Darkness (Greater Gift): This Gift can activate whenever you kill an enemy as long as you wear the armor. At the end of a round, if you’ve killed an enemy, roll a Spirit Save. If you fail, this Gift activates. Commit Effort from the Artifact to remove all limits on your body and lose yourself to your inner beast. You lose the ability to make rational decision on the battlefield, and see even your friends as enemies. In return, all of your attacks now deal 1d12+10 Straight Damage, you gain two bonus Actions, you become immune to all mental, emotional, or psychological damage, your attacks shatter any substance even if it is magical in nature, and your attack bonus is now +10. Whenever you take damage, record it somewhere else. Once the battle is over, you must make a Spirit Save to regain control of yourself. If you fail, you must keep fighting everything around you, even if they are your allies, making a Spirit Save each round to regain yourself. If you pass, make a Hardiness Save. If you pass that Save, you only take half of the damage you took during battle rounded up. If you fail, you take the full damage straight.

So now, our final Guts sheet, looks like this:

  Name: Guts

  Facts:

Grew up in a Mercenary Band

The Raiding Captain for the Band of the Hawks

Has formed a deep friendship with all of the major members

Is marked by the Brand of Sacrifice

Has given up his Revenge for Casca the woman he loves

Has killed over 1,000 Demons

Wields the Dragonslayer

Wears the Berserker Armor

Is haunted by his Beast of Darkness

His companions keep him grounded

He lost his arm and eye, now he has a mechanical arm.

  Attributes:

  Str: 19 (+4): Check: 2

Dex: 18 (+3): Check: 3

Con: 18 (+3): Check 3

Int: 13 (+1): Check: 8

Wis: 13 (+1): Check: 8

Char: 13 (+1): Check: 8

  Words:

Sword

Endurance

Luck

Peak Human

Might

Vengeance

  Gifts:

Defy the Iron

Nine Lives

Unerring Blade

Cutting the Crimson Road

Body of Iron Will

Fear No Steel

Fist of Black Iron

Loosening God’s Teeth

Contempt of Distance

Thirsting Razor

All Natural

Mortal’s Luck

Trained Aim

Human Grit

Indomitable Will

Street Sweeper

Bloody Vengeance

Shattering Hand

  Weapons: Dragonslayer (1d10; Heavy; Atk Bonus: +1; Attribute Bonus: Str)

  Armor: Berserker Armor (AC 3; -4 Penalty to 2 Saves)

  AC: 3

  HP: 11

  Saves:

Hardiness (Con): 15 (Base 11)

Evasion (Dex): 16 (Base 12)

Spirit: (Wis): 14

  Artifacts:

  Dragonslayer:

  A great sword that is like a hunk of raw iron. This blade has bathed in the blood of so many demons that it now rest on both the Mortal and Astral planes, turning it into a magical weapon that can harm both spiritual and physical creatures. Due to its massive size, it can also be used to block projectiles and smash through any type of armor.

Effort: 5

Hunk of Raw Iron (Greater Gift): As an Action, the wielder may Commit Effort from the artifact to launch an attack at every enemy within sight, doing a maximum of 1 damage even on a miss. Mobs are automatically hit for 1d10+15 rolled straight.

Too Thick, Too Rough (Lesser Gift): As an Action, Commit Effort from the artifact to immediately break any armor, weapon, or piece of equipment in range of the sword. Any magical substance is not destroyed, but damaged to the point where it is almost useless.

The Berserker Armor:

  An ancient, magical armor from the time of the first Emperor, the Berserker Armor is a black, spiked armor that completely encases the wearer. It is considered heavy armor and can defend against most attacks, including magical ones. However, the armor’s true ability comes from its power to lock off the wielder’s nervous system, pushing their body to heights that a normal human could never reach. There is a downside to this, as the armor will remove the wielder’s sense of self and cause them to view everything as an enemy. On top of this, the armor does not heal the wearer, instead holding their body together and preventing them from dying to any injury. Once all living creatures have been defeated, all of the wearer’s damage will return full force and can kill them instantly if it is more than their HP can handle.

Effort 10

Unstoppable Rampage (Greater Gift): Commit Effort from the Artifact to immediately gain three bonus Attacks that can be used on this round only.

Jump Good (Lesser Gift): Commit Effort from the Artifact to instantly leap to any spot within double your movement speed. This does not count as an Action.

Beast of Darkness (Greater Gift): This Gift can activate whenever you kill an enemy as long as you wear the armor. At the end of a round, if you’ve killed an enemy, roll a Spirit Save. If you fail, this Gift activates. Commit Effort from the Artifact to remove all limits on your body and lose yourself to your inner beast. You lose the ability to make rational decision on the battlefield, and see even your friends as enemies. In return, all of your attacks now deal 1d12+10 Straight Damage, you gain two bonus Actions, you become immune to all mental, emotional, or psychological damage, your attacks shatter any substance even if it is magical in nature, and your attack bonus is now +10. Whenever you take damage, record it somewhere else. Once the battle is over, you must make a Spirit Save to regain control of yourself. If you fail, you must keep fighting everything around you, even if they are your allies, making a Spirit Save each round to regain yourself. If you pass, make a Hardiness Save. If you pass that Save, you only take half of the damage you took during battle rounded up. If you fail, you take the full damage straight.

  And there we go. I would’ve added another Gift to the Dragonslayer, but I couldn’t think of what to put there.

  So, there you go. How I would stat Guts as a Godbound.

  Feedback would be appreciated, and if you think there are things I could’ve added or done better, please let me know.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Sixty Three

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 17th, 2000

Remy shook his head as he trudged around campus. He hated this. He hated this whole thing. The only thing that made college bearable was the idea that he might get a paying job from it, but he didn’t even have that job security for certain, so really, why was he here?

A familiar voice called his name from across the quad and Remy turned, rolling his eyes as Emile ran up to him excitedly. Yeah, college was annoying, and Emile could be a bit of a nuisance, but he was at least a familiar nuisance. And if Emile wanted to hang out with Remy, well, Remy wasn’t going to stop him, even if he didn’t see what Emile saw in him.

  May 20th, 2002

Remy kept the frustrated tears at bay for as long as it took for him to clock out at Starbucks and walk down the side, to the back parking lot. Once there, he punched the dumpster that was backed up against the building and a few tears slipped out from pain and from anger. He was beyond pissed, and he didn’t know why. He had seen this coming. He knew they weren’t going to pick him to become the new manager. And yet, when he heard the news, it still felt like his hopes shattered into a million pieces.

“It went that badly, huh?” Emile asked from behind him.

Remy turned swiping at the tears on his cheeks to find Emile standing there, hands in his pockets. “Yeah,” he settled on saying.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Emile said, closing the distance between them and hugging Remy close. “You don’t deserve to be overlooked just because you don’t want a degree.”

“They didn’t even pick from the store,” Remy said. “They brought in someone else who doesn’t know the system, just because they have that stupid Bachelor’s.”

Emile winced and Remy sighed. “I mean, I saw it coming that I wouldn’t get the job, but seriously? Outside? Not even from another store, just someone who’s never worked there before. We’re gonna have to teach him everything in the span of maybe two weeks!” He shook his head. “Emile, I’m really sick of this.”

“I know you are,” Emile said.

“One day, I can quit this crappy job and be my own person,” Remy said. “One day.”

Emile nodded as he lead Remy to the car. “And that day will be amazing,” Emile agreed. “Until then, we should probably ice your hand and make sure nothing’s broken.”

Remy sighed. Punching the dumpster was a dumb move, but at the very least, it beat punching brick wall. “Yeah,” he said flatly.

Emile drove them home and Remy leaned back into the chair, trying to stop crying. All he was getting for his troubles was a headache and more tears. “My head hurts,” Remy griped.

“Not surprised,” Emile said. “Do you need to take some ibuprofen when we get back?”

“I don’t think so,” Remy said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just need to get over myself.”

“Hey, hey,” Emile said, pulling into the parking lot. “You have every right to be upset, Rem, that’s an upsetting thing. You don’t have to ‘get over yourself.’”

Remy grumbled, “Then why am I getting so worked up over something I knew would happen?”

Emile shrugged. “I’m not inside your head, Rem, I can’t speak for you. If I had to hazard a guess, it’s because hiring someone from outside the company just adds insult to injury.”

Remy laughed hollowly. “Understatement,” he groused, getting out of the car and inspecting his hand. It was swelling a little, but didn’t immediately come across as “broken,” which was a promising sign. “You ever break a bone, Emile?” he asked.

“Uh...not that I remember. There were a couple close calls, but nothing ever broke. I did once dislocate my knee,” Emile said.

Remy winced. “Ouch. How?”

“One of my friends took martial arts classes, and taught me and some of our friends some of the moves, but we didn’t do much stretching before we tried it...and I wound up with a lot of pain the next day in gym class, to where I could barely walk.”

“Ooh!” Remy exclaimed, hissing. “That’s pretty bad.”

“Yep, six weeks of physical therapy, a knee brace, the whole deal,” Emile said. “You break a bone?”

“I fractured my wrist at like...age six.” Remy laughed. “I was running down the sidewalk, and I assume I tripped, because the next thing I know, my wrist feels like it’s on fire and I’m sprawled on the ground. Went to school the next day, couldn’t use scissors without pain, went to the nurse, and she pretty much knew it was broken within five minutes of seeing it. Called my mom, they took me to the doctor’s, got X-rays, and I got a sick-looking cast.”

“Your mom sent you to school with a broken wrist?” Emile asked incredulously.

Remy shrugged. “She didn’t know how to identify a broken bone, she just assumed I cried for half an hour because, y’know, I’ve always been a crybaby. You got sent to school with a dislocated knee!”

“Because it didn’t really start hurting until gym class,” Emile said. “If a six year old cries for half an hour over tripping on a sidewalk, something’s up.”

Remy waved off Emile’s concern. “Eh, she apologized about it later. It wasn’t the end of the world, and because it happened during the school year, I still had two months where I could swim in the pool after the cast came off.”

Emile squinted at Remy and Remy rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You’re excusing your mother’s actions again.”

“She didn’t know, Emile,” Remy said. As they got inside the apartment and Emile gave Remy an ice pack, Remy continued, “You don’t have to know everything about injuries to become a parent.”

“No, but I still think crying for half an hour over a trip should be investigated. And if a school nurse can identify the injury that quickly, shouldn’t the parent be a tad bit suspicious before the kid leaves for school? Because obviously there would be swelling.”

Remy shrugged. “Listen, this wasn’t too bad. She was just forgetful in this case,” he defended. “She’s done worse, you’ve seen her do worse.”

Emile pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did she dismiss other health concerns?”

“I didn’t tell her about other health concerns, like in high school when everyone was turning against me except Toby. She couldn’t dismiss what she wasn’t told about.”

“But you didn’t tell her because she would dismiss it?” Emile questioned. “That seems to be what you’re implying.”

“Okay, she brushed off some things in middle school, things that I don’t even remember because I blocked them out. They couldn’t be too severe if I’m still standing here, though,” Remy brushed off.

Emile sighed and Remy inwardly grimaced. He knew that sigh. It was the sigh Emile got whenever he thought Remy was dismissing key parts of his mental health. “Remy...”

“Can we just agree to drop this subject and let me return to bitching about not getting the manager position?” Remy requested. “I know my mom wasn’t on top of it. I know she was bad. And we just disagree about how severe this infraction was. I agree that she should have done something, at least asked me why I was crying so much, but she didn’t. It’s over. Done with. Has been for years. I just want to gripe.”

Emile sighed. “Okay, fine. Let’s just talk about what’s going on in the here and now.”

Remy nodded his thanks. “I don’t think my hand is broken,” he said idly. “It would be swelling more if that was the case. Even with ice, it would look different.”

“Agreed,” Emile said. “You still shouldn’t have punched the dumpster.”

“It was that or the brick wall,” Remy said drily.

Emile shook his head. “Rem, you worry me, to this day.”

“Yeah, well. I’m getting better at controlling my anger, it just...needs an outlet, and I couldn’t hold it back further without risking lashing out, so I took it out on the closest inanimate object to me,” Remy said.

Emile rolled his eyes and took the ice pack off Remy’s hand to kiss the knuckles. “You may be an impulsive man, but you’re my impulsive man. And I’m proud that you’re working to control the more angry impulses.”

Remy offered Emile a smirk. “I thought you liked it when things got heated.”

“Not in this context,” Emile laughed.

Remy grinned, before looking at his hand and sighing. “Man, I wish I could be running my own shop right about now.”

“Hey, one day,” Emile said, squeezing Remy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, but that’s going to take so long,” Remy sighed. “Too long. I’ll still have to deal with this new manager, and what happens if I can’t hide my resentment well enough?”

“Remy, I know this probably doesn’t help, but I’m fairly sure you can hide your disdain behind your customer service smile. You’re consistently way better at that than I am. He might know it’s fake, he might not. Regardless, he can’t hold you accountable so long as you don’t say how you really feel about him and you keep smiling.”

“I don’t want to keep smiling,” Remy sighed. “I want to be able to be mad, and to cry, and I want people to know that I’m human.”

“Unfortunately, the downside of working in food service or retail hell is that a lot of people won’t see you as human,” Emile said knowingly. “But you’re always free to be human around me, and our friends, and anyone else we run into when you’re not working.”

“I know,” Remy grumbled. Didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to put up with this.

“Rem, time will pass without you realizing it, and one day, you’re going to wake up, and realize you have the money and power to start your own coffee shop, and you’re going to absolutely crush it,” Emile said with conviction. “Trust me. It might be hard to see right now, but you’re destined for greatness.”

That, at least, got Remy to laugh. He both loved and hated when Emile got all storybook cliché on him. “I would disagree about the destiny thing,” Remy said. “I carve my own destiny.”

“Exactly why it’s true,” Emile replied smoothly. “You don’t wait around looking for your purpose, you go out and make a purpose that fits you.”

“I would argue that I wouldn’t make the purpose. Plenty of people have dropped out of college before. Many people have become entrepreneurs. It’s not exactly a unique path,” Remy brushed off.

“Yeah, but it still goes against the norms of what people expect of you. Instead of just going with the flow, you’re standing tall. And nothing can push you around if you don’t let it. Honestly it’s...pretty inspiring,” Emile said.

Remy laughed. “Please, Emile. I don’t have this heart-stopping origin story that you’re making this out to be.”

“I don’t know,” Emile said with a shrug. “I just think that you’re pretty impressive. If I were in your position, I wouldn’t have ever gotten this far.”

“I mean, I think you could have gotten out of my family situation before I ever did, and made a name for yourself however you wanted,” Remy said with a shrug in return.

Emile offered a slightly bitter smile, which surprised Remy. “Rem, believe me when I say that the only reason you believe that is because my parents taught me how to stand up for myself. You learned how to stand up on your own. No one taught you. If I had been in your position, I probably wouldn’t have lasted through high school. You’re impossibly strong.”

Remy shrugged. “I mean, I guess I’m strong. I’m taking you at your word on that, but I didn’t learn how to stand up on my own. You’re the one who taught me that.”

Emile shook his head. “No, Rem, I may have shown you where to stand tall and demand respect, but even before I met you, you were trying to make your own way in the world. Studying business over accounting, remember? That was all you. You’ve got what it takes to make your own place in the world. And if I were a betting man, I’d put all my money on you.”

Remy stood there, shocked into silence for a good minute. He didn’t know what Emile saw in him to cause that sort of conviction, but he knew that Emile was serious in this. And he wasn’t about to disappoint Emile. He smiled. He would get through this. He’d get through it and go his own way, sooner or later. “I love you too, Emile.”

[txtdiaries]

Axiom Academy for Extraordinary Boys - Chapter One

SUMMARY | Axiom Academy for Extraordinary Boys — one of the most elite magic schools in the world. Teaching its’ boys to defend themselves in magic with their own specialty, unique to every single one, and with the integrity of one who attends such a school. 

Axiom Boys learn to hold the world in their fingertips and manipulate the sorcery in their veins. Axiom Academy, an institute for only the most gifted young wizards in existence.

That is, until one, reluctant girl is suddenly forced to enroll.

PAIRING | choi soobin x female reader + the rest of txt and other kpop idols!

CATEGORY | magic academy, boarding school-esque, magic, wizards, witches, dark themes, etc.

WARNINGS | swearing, dark themes, yeonjun being Annoying.

WORD COUNT | 1.2k

SONG REC | never going back - the score

PLAYLIST | here

A/N: I’m praying there are no typos, dear god. ENJOY!!!

Preview / Chapter One

Incessant chatter and the occasional laugh are what Choi Soobin hears as he rests his palm under his chin and props his elbow on the face of his desk. His jaded stare is aimed toward the east wall of the classroom, seemingly focused somewhere outside the laboratory window, and he stays silent. The boys around him scramble to finish the potion’s assignment they had been given at the beginning of the lecture, and he’s glad they don’t try to talk to him. Instead, they allow him to keep to himself; he is grateful. There are clutters of raindrops painting the glass, and he’s been counting them one by one as the commotion goes on around him. It’s all he’s been focusing on as the minutes tick by.

Just as he’s reached fifty-four, though, he hears one of the boys in the seats next to him speak up. Most likely to his friend at the table behind them, but still loud enough for Soobin to catch.

“—And I heard she’ll be here at the new student’s assembly tomorrow. Can you imagine the possibilities?” The blonde-haired boy says smugly, tone dripping sickly in what Soobin can only describe as want. He frowns further into his palm and keeps his gaze away from the two boys. After all, they are just needy teenagers, and Soobin doesn’t really know them anyway. He decides after that to continue minding his own business, glancing down at his completed assignment before sighing. He always finishes first. The only downside? Having to endure everyone else around who hasn’t.

“Hey Soobin.” A voice tears his gaze away from his paper and up to a pair of round, excited eyes staring back at him. Soobin blinks once at his friend, Beomgyu, before arching a brow in question. Beomgyu simply laughs and drags his stool over to sit across from Soobin at his desk.

“Did you know? New student’s assembly tomorrow, and get this, they’re allowing a girl to enroll.” The younger boy beams, a slight lilt to his words as he playfully smacks the older boy’s arm. Soobin drops his arm onto his desk and sighs again, his friend’s word’s not exciting him in the slightest.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“It’s like the first time in history there’s ever been a girl allowed at Axiom. Like, can you believe that? Why now? Have they even thought about how risky it could be having a girl-“

“I think they know what they’re doing, Beom.”

Soobin tilts his head and looks toward Professor Song in boredom, watching as he flips through the course syllabus, before adding, “And anyway, why do you even care about some girl enrolling? She’s a complete stranger.”

“Because,” Beomgyu says, wagging his finger knowingly in his friend’s face, “Not only is everyone talking about it, but she’s going to be living on campus just like the rest of us. Maybe this will be my chance to finally get a girlfriend.”

Soobin nods absentmindedly at Beomgyu’s words, knowing that every single boy in the academy has the exact same thought.

Well, every boy except him.

It’s not that he doesn’t like girls or anything – he likes them very much – It’s just that he has a tendency to strike out when it came to members of the opposite sex. That and all his focus is usually on his studies; he figures throwing a girl into the mix will just add unnecessary stress into his life. So, he simply keeps to himself. No girlfriend and only a few close friends at the academy. That’s all Soobin has.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu’s voice broke Soobin out of his thoughts once again, “Yeonjun said he’d save us a spot in the dining-hall after potions class ends, so we should probably meet him after.”

The dark-haired boy nods at this, perking up just slightly. He is starving, and he misses his other friends. Lunch time was one of his favorite times of the day.

The sound of a beaker tipping and shattering, and loud laughter exploding from a table across the room causes Soobin to sigh again, and he’s looking out the window of the room once more as Beomgyu suddenly dives into a conversation with someone at the table over.

Dark, booming clouds can be seen rolling in steadily from the distance, and Soobin takes a deep breath.

Maybe soon, things will be different.

“Hello losers.” Yeonjun says in a sing-song voice as he slides into an empty chair at his friend’s table in the dining-hall. Beomgyu and Soobin greet him off-handedly before he hums in excitement, already lifting his chopsticks to start devouring his lunch.

“Oh, Jun, have you heard-“

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Yeonjun responds around a mouthful of chicken, already knowing the main topic of Beomgyu’s conversation. Soobin laughs at this, eyes crinkling as he glances momentarily up at Yeonjun from his book. This causes his friend to smirk cockily before speaking again.

“Everyone’s heard.” He adds, grinning at his friend before going in for some rice.

“Clearly not everyone’s heard,” A voice calls out as they slide into one of the chairs as well, curiosity peaking as they look at Yeonjun with an expecting gaze, “What’s up?”

“New student enrolling tomorrow. A girl.” Beomgyu answers for Yeonjun, wiggling his brows at the younger red head across from him easily. The red head – Tae, according to his closest friends – perks up significantly at this; eyes blown wide in the process.

“What?” He asks.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu nod at him at the same time, confirming his question. Soobin merely flips through his spells book lying open on the table, mouthing the printed ink as he reads quietly to himself. He seems uninterested, but truthfully, he’s listening. He just hopes the conversation about the curious new student dies down soon. He’s getting bored of everyone talking about it.

“And they’re just. . . allowing it?” Taehyun asks, starting to eat his own meal now, “Where is she even going to stay?”

“She’s going to have her own room, I guess. No roommate, which must be nice.” Beomgyu says the last part quietly, side eyeing the older, blue-haired boy who sits next to him. He doesn’t notice his friend’s cheap shot, instead he continues to eat his meal, a content smile on his lips.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu continues, “She’s all everyone’s talking about, and she’s not even here yet. She’ll probably be the most popular person here once she starts.”

“What if she’s not cute?” Yeonjun teases, eyes glinting, “Doubt she’ll be popular then.”

“Yah!” Soobin says, flicking Yeonjun’s forehead suddenly, “Stop talking shit. Just leave it.”

The rest of the boys laugh at Soobin’s action and Yeonjun rubs his forehead in pain, glaring at Soobin. “I’m just being honest!”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Soobin asks, finally closing his textbook before looking around at his friends pleadingly, “Literally anything else.”

“Fine, how was potions?” Tae asks after groaning, looking at Soobin questioningly.

“He finished first as always.” Beomgyu answers for Soobin, gaze flashing toward the black-haired boy before shrugging, “Him and his big brain.”

“It was fine.” Soobin finally answers, trying to defend himself somehow as he furrows his brow and lays his chin on his folded arms resting on the table. “Professor Song wants us to work on our love potions next class.”

“The love potion was such bullshit.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, referring to his time in potions last fall. “It barely works.”

“Just because you tried using it on your crush in the town over, Jun. Not even a potion could have made her have it bad for you.” Soobin shoots back. The boys laugh again and Yeonjun slumps back into his chair, muttering a, “Whatever.” Before the conversation shifts yet again. Soobin sits back and finally starts eating off his own plate, enjoying the light chatting going on around him amidst his friends. He’s chewing on a piece of beef before Taehyun leans in to speak to him quietly.

“So you’re really not excited about the new girl enrolling?”

Soobin gives him a glance before nodding gently, “Not really. It’s just a girl.”

“I know,” Taehyun says softly, “But I figured you’d be at least a little excited. All the guys are.”

This causes the older boy to shrug and continue eating, “I’m not really too bothered by it. I’m more worried about classwork, if I’m being honest.”

Taehyun laughs at this and nods, agreeing with his friend before he drops it and joins in on the conversation the other boys are having. Soobin feels his thoughts start to reel in his head as he decides to sit the gossip out. It’s not like more won’t occur later.

Suddenly, Soobin is thinking about Taehyun’s words from earlier, and something about it doesn’t sit right with him. Sometimes, Soobin wishes he could just be like everyone else. 

He wishes he could just blend in entirely.

Classes pass in a blur of spells and textbooks after lunch ends, and before Soobin knows it, he’s in the hallway making his way back to his shared dorm room. The heavy weight of his textbooks begging to be opened and worked on is evident in his black bag swung over his shoulder, and he weaves through the crowd of other students easily, tall figure looming over a lot of the heads around him.

Once he finally arrives at his dorm and enters, he’s slipping his wand into the pocket of his jacket and resting it on the back of his desk chair, noticing his roommate actually present too. His roommate, a man by the name of Lee Jeno, isn’t around often. He’s either in lectures, on the courtyard playing sports, or studying with his other friends in the library. He only ever comes to the dorm to sleep, but Soobin doesn’t mind. They get along well enough anyway.

“Hey Soobin.” Jeno says with a kind eye smile when he comes in, giving him a half wave after raising his nose from the book balanced against his knees. He’s in bed, body leaning against the headboard, and a pair of glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s still wearing his uniform, except his button up shirt is haphazardly only done up about halfway, and his hair is slighty messy. Soobin doesn’t ask – he assumes Jeno has had about the same type of day he has. It’s understandable without the need for explanation. Soobin gets it.

“Hey Jeno.” Soobin says back, dimples indenting in his cheeks at he grins at his roommate politely. He bites the inside of his lip absentmindedly before dropping his bag next to his desk and rummaging around in his closet for some more comfortable clothes. Unlike his blonde roommate, he prefers pajamas to their school uniform. He’d wear them all the time if he could.

“Did you hear?” Jeno asks, and Soobin mentally prepares for the same conversation he’s heard all day long. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when his roommate speaks again.

“They’re adding fudge cake to the dining-hall menu. How great is that?”

Soobin can’t help the gleeful laugh that escapes his throat, and he nods at Jeno, “I didn’t know. That sounds great Jeno.”

Jeno smiles before dipping his head down toward the pages of his astronomy book, and Soobin sees this as his cue to move toward the small bathroom the two share. After he’s done brushing his teeth and getting into his nightwear, he moves back into the small room and toward his desk. It’s relatively clean from his last study session, and he tugs his backpack over to unzip it and rummage through his books before pulling a few out. His agenda for the night consists of Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology. He would rather be doing anything else.

The hours begin to pass, and the only noise accompanying the scratching of Soobin’s quill is Jeno’s book pages being turned. Six in the evening soon turns to seven, and then eight, and before either of the boys know it, it is already eleven in the evening.

This is when Soobin finally leans back in his desk chair and stretches his aching limbs, deciding on calling it a night. He figures the same of Jeno, who finally lets his book pages fall closed and tosses it onto the nightstand near his bed.

“Lights out?” Jeno asks the taller boy, giving him a small grin as he takes his glasses off and sets them near the abandoned book. Soobin nods and turns off his desk lamp, moving toward his bed as Jeno turns his own lamp out as well.

Soobin pulls the covers back, climbs in, and moves around a bit until he is settled. The darkness is comforting, inviting him to sleep as he finally allows his body to go slack with relaxation.

“Night, Soobin.” Jeno says through the darkness, and Soobin can already feel himself drifting away.

“Night, Jeno.” He replies softly.

And then he is already dozing off, thoughts already running with the worries and anxieties of how tomorrow will go.

[robynmarkius]

Language Differences

So I have a bit of a long ramble, which involves Spoilers for the end of 5.3; obviously. Some of it’s already out there as I replied on mobile while half asleep, but it led to talking to the lovely @shiro-from-cafeberry​ about the German text. (Once again, thank you so much! I enjoy talking to you! :D <3 I have discovered I have even more questions for you to help with. lol) I then bothered my friend and co-writer @xehniscreations​ about French and she said it’d be a good practice to shake off the rust. (She ended up translating the whole ending scene for practice! <33 lol )

This all started because I am married to a man who has a degree in Linguistics and a simple questioning of one line/part led to hours of jokes and discussions. Which then turned into me putting my game client into two languages that I don’t speak a word of just to see what a character said... XD And! And! Learning a few other things along the way. I’ve been having so much fun with this and I hope you all can too. Plopping a cut here so as not to completely destroy anyone still trying to avoid Spoilers... or those who want to prepare some tissues. lol

I have cried a lot in the process of this entire Translation, and keep crying. lol As long as this post/translator ramble got, I made sure to post the ‘screenshot comic’, “Remnant” [as its own post] for the sake of focus. That was the scene that started this trip down the rabbit hole, after all. xD

After three days of editing this post, I decided to split it, so that this was just the ending scene. There’s flashbacks I also covered, but this was getting extremely long and I realize that I had not asked Shiro about the first flashback at all! So I still have things to finish and more to talk about before I have more.

For now, though, let’s talk!

Part One: Elidibus’ Explanation

The lines in question came from when Elidibus picked up the crystals, then told us he heard the voices of despair/cries and lamentations of his friends. After which there’s a slightly awkward explanation about how there were lots of opinions and thoughts about the world/star, which led to Elidibus pulling himself free of Zodiark in order to help his friends. It bothered Hubs because it felt kinda “clunky”; he explained:

“I think it’s because of a general norm of Japanese society we hear so much about. That it’s important to have a consensus and not to stir up trouble or stick out too much; which is how that part kind of reads. Your direct Translation is fine. I just feel like the localization team just kinda gave up when they wrote the English version. They could have give a little more context on it when they wrote it. Instead, what happens is, it feels out of place and awkward where it is. It also doesn’t give the context of when Elidibus freed himself from Zodiark. Is there any context that says that wasn’t when Hydaelyn shattered the star into the reflections or Shards?”

Putting aside his question about when Elidibus actually separated from Zodiark for now; as that’s a whole ‘nother discussion that’s rather interesting; I finally understood what he meant by my Translation felt clunky. It was accurate to a “direct translation” versus a “localization”. I re-translated the whole part just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, and made sure that the final lines I wrote in English still made sense. lol

First, I wanted to note the differences in terms; in case I slip when putting this together. ^^; The literal translation of 「十四人委員会」 would be "Fourteen-person Committee"; but in the context of FF14, (at least in English,) we call it the "Convocation of Fourteen", so I try to stick with that for final translations. What makes anything with the Ancients more difficult, is that they're not speaking a language that we can immediately understand, but rather making sounds that our Echo/超える力/l'Écho/Kraft des Transzendierens interprets into words we/the WoL/WoD can understand. The downside is lack of clarification for actual translation if you don't fluently read or speak another language. lol

For example, when Elidibus speaks, we hear the words spoken, so if there's a kanji that's said more than one way, I can hear which definition is correct by listening to the sentence. But the Ancients' "woop woop wop wah wahp woo" is harder to interpret... but, at least it's the same in every language, right? XD For German, they have “The Convent”, and French has “The Council of Fourteen”.

Second, in English, we called him “The Emissary”, which is another term for “Mediator; Arbitrator; Go-Between” which is the definition of the term 調停者 [shouteisha] , his Japanese title. When translating from German, Shiro used the term “The Advocate”. His French title is “le Médiateur” His role seems to be the same, at least, he settled disputes, found the facts, kept things in check, and generally maintained balance. That was the seat of Elidibus; which is necessary to understand why he said what he said about being needed. (Those titles come from the first flashback as well as the second one; which I’ll get to in the next post. <3 )

The English lines that started this conversation are: “Divided -- over the fate of the star. A rare occurrence, always fleeting. But not this time. Not this time... Reconciliation. Elidibus. I was needed. I withdrew myself from Zodiark. For them...”

Japanese: 世界の行く末について、たくさんの意見が出た…… そんなことは珍しいから、委員会のみんなが悩んでいた。

だったら、エリディブスが手助けしに行かないと…… そう思って、ゾディアークから零れ落ちたんだ。

Final Translation: (after edits and all this discussion) "A great many opinions were expressed regarding the fate of the world, Everyone in the Convocation was troubled, since such a thing was unusual.

That being the case, I could not go help them in my role as Emissary. I believed that they needed Elidibus, so I pulled myself from Zodiark.”

In French, from Xehnis: "Le Concile avait perdu sa cohésion...Face à l’anéantissement, les avis divergeaient sur la marche à suivre pour sauver notre planéte…

Ça ne leur ressemblait pas...Plus que jamais, ils avaient besoin d’Elidibus...Ils avaient besoin de moi...Alors, je me suis détaché de Zordiarche pour voler à leur secours…”

Her final translation: “The Council had lost its cohesion...In the face of annihilation, opinions differed on the way to save our planet…

It does not resemble them...more than ever, they needed Elidibus...they needed me....so, I detached from Zordiark to fly to their aid…”

The German lines, from Cafe Berry’s Shiro, along with the explanations: "Die Zukunft der Welt hing in der Schwebe und Chaos machte sich breit. Die Ascians waren zutiefst gespalten. Der Konvent uneins..."

Here, they are talking about how the Ascians, and most importantly, the convent is divided. How the future of the world was not clear and with that chaos spread.

"Elidibus, der Fürsprecher, musste etwas tun. Ich musste etwas tun. Und so spaltete ich mich wieder von Zodiark ab ..."

Here, Elidibus says that Elidibus, as the Emissary, had to do something. HE had to do something. So he split off from Zodiark.

Their translation they gave me then, was: "The future of the world hung in the balance and chaos spread. The Ascians were deeply divided. The convent divided ...

Elidibus, the advocate, had to do something. I had to do something. And so I split off from Zodiark again ... "

This was the part that my husband had called into question; with my original translation to:

"Many opinions and thoughts came forth, regarding the fate of our world.... The Convocation was worried, as such a thing was unusual."

世界の行く末について、たくさんの意見が出た…… そんなことは珍しいから、委員会のみんなが悩んでいた。

The literal translation of it all, would be: "The world's future/fate concerning/regarding, a great many/a lot (of) comments were brought up/expressed......

such thing(s) are/is curious/rare/unusual because/since, committee of everyone("Everyone on the Committee") (was/were actively being) troubled/worried.”

There was also the lines that followed, which were also rough to word in English, so the whole section had felt awkward.

だったら、エリディブスが手助けしに行かないと…… そう思って、ゾディアークから零れ落ちたんだ。

“if that's the case, Elidibus (from) assistance (as/in the role of) to go/to do (could not),

so/appearing that/seeming that considered/believed/reckoned/judged/decided/desired, Zodiark (from) spilled over/scattered from (n'da - 'no desu' / 'no da' used to add emphasis)"

I had tried: "I decided that they needed Elidibus, but as I was I couldn't help them, so I pulled myself away from Zodiark.

Which was another way to put the idea of: "That being the case, Elidibus could not go rescue/help, I believed, then spilled and fell over/scattered from Zodiark."

It ended up: "A great many thoughts and opinions were expressed regarding the fate of the world, Everyone on the Committee was troubled, since such a thing was unusual.If that was the case, I could not give them assistance in the role of Arbitrator. I believed that they needed Elidibus, so I fell/scattered from Zodiark."

In the end, for this part, it really helped to learn what was said in French and German, because it helped solidify more what was trying to be said, and that there probably is at least a little societal influence in the Japanese text. If it hadn’t been for Xehnis and Shiro’s assistance, I probably wouldn’t have landed on something that felt comfortable enough in English. <3

They all feel different, but have the same general idea: that even after Zodiark was summoned; and Elidibus became his Heart; things hadn’t been fixed. Things continued to grow worse, and they began to fight, and have conflict. As Arbitrator/Emissary/Advocate/Mediator, Elidibus’ job was to maintain balance, and settle disputes, but he could no longer do the job of his seat as the Heart of Zodiark, and it seemed to be destroying the Convocation; making things worse; so he yanked himself out of a Primal to go tell everyone to SIMMER DOWN, NOW.

Sidenote/Side Question here... I wonder what happened with Venat and Hydaelyn...? Perhaps we’ll get clarification in the future, as the only person who’s become/been anything like Elidibus has been Minfilia as the ‘Words of the Mother’, then sent off as an “Emissary” of sorts to the First. lol

This all led to wondering about the last line; as it was clearly different in the Japanese Audio than the English Text. I do want to state that I think what they did in English worked just as well for the emotional gut punch intended from Elidibus’ last words; but it’s very different. It did lead to looking at the flashback in Anemnesis Anyder where we heard the line about the rain, which will be in the next post.

English: “The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it.”

Japanese: 私が最後に残ったって……仕方ないじゃないか……。 Translation: “There’s nothing for it then, is there? I’m the last one left...”

French: Je devais partir en dernier... Comment aurais-je pu abandonner mes amis, esseulés en ce bas monde? Translation: “I had to leave last...how could I abandon (forsake) my friends, lonely in this lowly world?”

German: Es ist vorbei ... Alles verloren ... Ich bin der Letzte ... Translation: "It is over. Everything lost... I am the last..."

Japanese can also be read as “I’m the last one left... I guess it can’t be helped, huh?” but even in context, it didn’t flow quite as well as I’d like.. but that doesn’t take away from the crying, does it... ; A; I got the term “Remnant” from Japanese, where “watashi ga saigo ni nokotta tte” would literally translate to “I’m the final remnant”/”I’m the last leftover”, which I did word as “I’m the last one remaining/left.” (It is also 'Sumo term, cried by the referee to indicate that a rikishi is still in the ring’, but that didn’t quite feel right here, however, you can take the sumo joke if you’d like. <3)

I’m going to repeat that I think referring back to the line he was told back when he’d gotten the title of Elidibus wasn’t bad, and it did still work very well to convey that lost, lonely, longing he was left with as a remnant; what little was left of him, lamented the loss of his beloved people; people that he’d just wanted to save. This is evidenced in French and German; where he states that he’s all that’s left, everything is lost, it is over... that he had to go last, so he wouldn’t abandon his friends.

I appreciate that we gave Elidibus all the constellation stones, which, in a way, let him finally be with all of his friends once more. All the stones, except for ours; we kept that, because Hades made it for us. He made it for us to remember, so that the story of the Ancients wouldn’t be forgotten; the ‘truth’ he made sure he told us when we asked about the past.

At least, that’s what I choose to believe for now.

[Next Post >>]

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Paris Ašhar AGE & BIRTH DATE. 3,000+ and Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Manticore OCCUPATION. Pirate FACE CLAIM. Alperen Duymaz

BIOGRAPHY

Paris was born in the city of Troy, nameless and with a future that would spell disaster for his family. His mother did not bother to give him a name; he would be dead from exposure by the next day. At least, that was the plan. A seer had told his parents that he would one day be the ruin of his homeland. To protect themselves, Priam and Hecuba decided that he would no longer be their child, and they would pay someone else to do the deed of ridding them of their son. The chief herdsman, Agelaus, took Paris himself, but he, too, could not bring himself to kill the child. Instead, he raised him as his own. He named him after the bag he carried him in, and was raised as a shepherd instead of the prince he had been born as.

As a young man, Paris found his own desires and destiny on the hills of Mount Ida. He had no idea it was the mountain he was intended to die on as a child, but his past never once darkened the future he saw for himself. He was no stranger to the gods, either. In fact, it was the dryads whom he found fast friendships with – and the very first love that he knew. The dryads were around in the beginning; in the Golden Age that Paris had heard so much about. They knew his heart, and he knew theirs. Loving them was easy, and it was natural. When the Dryads would return to their trees, Paris would spend night beneath them, whispering about the tales he’d been told – no matter how far from the original the others had said they were. This was his life, and it was all he needed.

But the fates would not be circumvented, and the moment Hermes came for him, he was unable to say no. The gods promised to give him the life he wanted with the dryads he loved, if only he could solve a dispute between the goddesses. Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite – who was the most beautiful? A golden apple of discord thrown by Eris herself; all Paris could think of was how they should’ve just invited her to the wedding in the first place. Perhaps it spoke volumes that Zeus could not make a decision even with his wife in the discussion, but the deed fell to Paris. His heart belonged to others, but even he could not decide. He was only human, and therefore he was far from perfect. The goddesses instead attempted bribery – from Hera, ownership of all the known land. From Athena, the greatest war abilities known. And from Aphrodite, the love of the most beautiful woman. To Paris, there was no choice in this, either. Not until Aphrodite changed her bribe – where he could know the purest form of love. In his mind, it would only be knowledge shared among the two that held his heart. Not the promise of the other half of his soul – the one Zeus tore from all humans when they were born.

Helen of Sparta was that other half, and there was no denying the connection when they met. This was in secret, of course. Aphrodite had teleported him to her kingdom in Sparta – trapped to a marriage with Menelaus. They planned an escape from the city, hightailing it back to the land of Troy. But it was then that everything started to fall apart. Priam had learned from Agelaus that his son had not died after birth like it was intended, and now he needed protection. Arguably, Paris insisted that they would be fine away from the city, in the hills of Troy’s kingdom, where they would not be found. The dryads would protect them – Paris had told them of his plans. Helen was the other part of him, therefore, they would have the solution.

That never came to pass, however, as the invading army from Greece trapped them within the walls of Troy. Menelaus on a mission to bring home his wife, and Agamemnon with the strength of Achilles and the Myrmidons behind them. Paris knew what he had to do – to cause less bloodshed, he challenged Menelaus to single combat. His skills lied with the bow and arrow he’d used his whole life, so he was no match for the strength and wisdom of Menelaus with a sword and shield. In fact, Paris was more than willing to die – but only if it meant that Helen would have a chance to escape in the aftermath of his death. Maybe then he’d be able to go with the dryads to Elysium, or wherever they were able to visit with Gaia’s help.

It was Aphrodite who saved him, though she only pushed back the inevitable. Full scale war broke out, the clashing armies of Greece and Troy now fighting to bring Helen home – or to let her stay. All attempts to flee were blocked; death was at their gates. Though he was always just a pawn in the mind of the gods; Apollo guided his hand as he took his last stand. His arrow brought down Achilles, and it was an arrow from Philoctetes that would spell his own death. There was no time for him to say goodbye. No goodbye to Helen, and no goodbye to Gael and Aster, just a mountain top where he would be left to die.

Oenone, a river-nymph and daughter of Oceanus, had the ability to heal all wounds. It was Aphrodite who promised his love to the nymph if she would save him. Oenone did – but Paris held no love for her, either. It was her father who cursed him for the break of a promise he’d never made. Oceanus turned him into an incubus, forever cursed to feed on the souls of the living. But that wasn’t enough for the titan. He knew that Paris’ love was for the dryads, the land dwelling children of Gaia. Paris would live as long as he lived upon Oceanus’ or his descendant’s domain. The rivers or the oceans, of course. The longer he spent on land, the more likely he was to die. Whether that be by the shapeshifters of the world, or the Titan himself, it was yet to be decided.

So Paris took to the sea. He would sail to be as close as he could be to the dryads, who had moved back to the mainland of Greece. Paris would visit them as much as he could, until the titans faded from existence, taking Gael and Aster as well. The incubus’ mistake was thinking that with the fall of the Titans, he, too, was free from his curse. However, Poseidon inherited the seas – and so he inherited Paris’ curse and immortality. Paris mourned the dormant nature of the dryads that held his heart, and he spent far too long on land besides their tree. It was his bow and arrow that saved him, though the more shifters he killed, the more he was hunted.

The only place Paris found safety was upon a ship. For years, he would swap between vessels. Nothing could harm him, and as captains came and went, Paris found himself no longer a young man, but a weathered old soldier who’d known love and loss, and once Aphrodite could no longer reach him, he was utterly alone. The centuries passed, and the more naval warfare that he entered, the more lost Paris felt. He was jaded, treated the humans he would steal souls from as nothing but a body to pass the time. Witches who no longer had magic because of him would only recognize it too late, and he remained impervious on the ocean.

It wasn’t until he became captain of his own ship that he began to spread more terror than he thought was possible. Paris had never fit in, anywhere he’d gone, so he decided to make a life for himself as a pirate captain. Mutiny was easy thanks to his charm; the cubi easily became captain of a ship where a crew loved him. The only issue was the fact that he would have to dock every few weeks to replenish the crew – downside of being an Incubus. He would ensure to stop by Corinthia every few months, telling tales of his adventures to Gael and Aster as they slept. Anyone who came too close to the dryad’s resting place would meet their death with an arrow to the heart.

As the Golden Age of piracy spread, so did the ship’s crew. Immortals who needed a place to call home found his ship, and quickly it became all of theirs. Paris had never truly had a family outside of the ones he’d left behind in Troy all those centuries ago, but these reapers, furies – they became his family. Paris would stop at nothing to defend them, pillaging throughout the world as piracy became their main agenda. It was yet again another time that Paris had pushed his luck upon land – close to the docks, waiting too long for another of their crew. A snake, hidden among belongs, and a bite that poisoned his blood instantly. Paris should have known, perhaps he should’ve been far more careful, as well. It took him slowly, long enough to where he felt the rock of the waves hit the ship, and the gaze of his friend before his own vision went dark.

The pit of Tartarus welcomed him. Typhon, with all his rage, and the eternal torment and despair that awaited him gave him nothing but hell to witness. Countless times he was torn apart, his soul shattered piece by piece. Crudely he was put back together, for centuries and centuries, until his soul was no longer recognizable. Paris held on to the memories of Gael, of Aster, and when he was young – when he wasn’t cursed, or used by the gods. It seemed like a dream when he was suddenly free. No longer an incubus, but a manticore. His freedom was met with the awakening of the dryads, and now Paris has to find his way yet again in a world he does not know.

PERSONALITY

+ imaginative, reliable, courageous - blunt, anxious, impatient

PLAYED BY LAUREN. PST. She/Her.

[but-thats-its-own-story]

I almost didn’t watch Steven Universe.

Why?

To put it simply, I hated Gem Glow. I still do.

Steven feeling sad about Cookie Cats being discontinued has only ever stirred up sad feelings for me.

But it was what came after that changed my mind.

The fact that Sadie let him keep the fridge. The fact that the gems gathered up as much of the ice cream as they could find for him.

Even if it was something like ice cream, they understood how he felt, and took those feelings seriously.

The fact that they cared about him was crystal clear, and his gem glowing made perfect sense.

Steven Universe Future reminds me too much of Gem Glow.

Every episode seems to present Steven with the loss of someone or something he cares about.

His identity as a problem-solver. His favorite band. His friends moving on with their own lives without him.

Mind that somehow this didn’t happen during the two years he spent dismantling the empire.

Steven Universe The Movie introduces the concept that Steven is averse to change because he finally has a moment of peace after the life of trauma he’s been through.

It tries to compare the concept of change as an unavoidable part of life with the concept of change as personal growth as if they’re one and the same-

-but Spinel is right when she bluntly points out that they’re not.

Becoming a better person by overcoming your struggles and growing because of them is not the same kind of change as watching life as you know it drift away.

And that is exactly what is happening to Steven. Right now.

But Steven should have one thing that poor Spinel didn’t-

-a family, and even beyond that, a support system. Those friends he holds dear who are moving forward with their own lives, and leaving Steven behind.

Steven doesn’t want to hold them back, but he needs someone, anyone who won’t abandon him.

The fact that it’s not the gems is flat-out excruciating. But why isn’t it the gems? Because they didn’t readily acknowledge the ways that Steven has grown in a positive way, focusing instead of the downsides that come with his newfound responsibility. Because they’re not taking this new Steven seriously. and because they’re also too busy reaping the benefits of the closure and self-actualization Steven helped them work to acheive.

So Steven isn’t allowed to feel entitled to a break after literally saving the galaxy, but those he helped don’t have to acknowledge that he’s come so far himself?

Of course he’s angry.

He doesn’t want to blame them, because he’s always been conscious of the guilt the gems feel about not knowing what he needs.

But if Steven can’t rely on his friends, or his family, who can he possibly turn to? Who can he trust to take him seriously, and to understand what it feels like to be left behind? Who literally helped him face his traumatic past by being there for him?

Where in the world is Veronica Cucamonga Connie?

Space camp and lo-fi beats aside, Connie should be well aware that Steven isn’t feeling himself. Maybe she’s busy, but she’s always been busy. She still showed up to help Steven in a heartbeat.

She clearly has feelings for him. Are we seriously expected to believe that Steven and Connie have drifted apart? He named a flower after her, yet she hasn’t shown up yet. I’m worried.

Not worried that she won’t show up, but that when she does, she’ll berate Steven for not moving on.

Heck, if she takes one look at Steven in his current state and doesn’t immediately pull him aside and demand that he open up to her so he can break down in her arms I’ll flip tables.

He better still trust her with his life, and she better not give him any reason not to.

My greatest fear with Future is that rather than letting Steven deal with the trauma he already has like they’re supposedly going to, they’ll instead focus on preaching the inevitability of change and loss to the point where they drive another wedge between Steven and Connie just to prove a point.

I’m afraid Steven will finally turn to Connie for support, and rather than embracing him, she’ll call him out for the negative aspects of the person he’s become, even more than his friends or the gems did. Because if anyone would confront Steven like that it would be Connie.

I’m afraid this will be what breaks him. That he’ll lose hope when the best friend he’s come to love makes the same mistake he made when he sacrificed himself and put her well-being over her feelings.

I’m afraid that is what corrupts him, and as far as I’m concerned, she’s the only one fit to un-corrupt him, so if it happens that way it’ll shatter my suspension of disbelief immediately.

I’m angry just thinking about the prospect of Future focusing so much on realistic unavoidable change that Steven’s relationship with Connie could be sacrificed.

Steven Universe spent it’s entire original run focused on the hopeful fantasy that if you’re unrelentingly kind you can eventually convince anyone to be a better person.

For Future to pull such a 180 that I’m beginning to have a hard time watching Steven grieve over loss but seemingly not be allowed to vent to his plants let alone those who love him, to the extent that it reminds me of why I almost didn’t watch Steven Universe in the first place is very nearly too much for me.

Steven Universe Fear indeed.