#what foods have the highest iron

[jacaranda55posts]

A Very Iron Rich Recipe For Iron Deficiency

Iron deficiency and zinc deficiency are two very common deficiencies in the world. Iron deficiency in women is especially hard to address due to blood loss from mensturation.

There are many factors contributing to the proper absorption of iron from the gut.

One major factor is not eating enough of heme containing foods that have the highest bioavailability of iron. These include red meat, seafood, organ meats and egg yolk.

The second problem is poor absorption. When the iron rich foods are eaten with plants or dairy the iron can not be absorbed efficiently. The plants fibre, polyphenols and Phytate bind with iron and prevents its absorption.

The third factor is the cofactors. Vitamin B2 and Copper are needed for iron absorption and if there is not enough B2 only very small amounts of iron gets absorbed. That is why eating liver is one of the best ways to raise iron level as liver is also very rich in vitamin B2.

I have always found barbequed liver to be more tasty that just pan fried liver. As the process of barbequing is always messy and involves a lot of time and especially cleaning, not everyone is keen to go through the process.

This method is simple, quick and does not involve a lot of time. Just wash and cut the heart and liver into small pieces, add some butter and then blowtorch each side.

[lolita-lollipop]

Iron

YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER

The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?

WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)

He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.

It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.

Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.

That was, until you came along.

Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.

“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.

“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.

He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.

The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.

He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.

That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.

He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-

What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.

“It's her, the traitor!”

“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”

“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”

You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.

He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.

Red red red red red red red red red

He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,

Red

He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted

Red

He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red

He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.

You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.

You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die

Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.

But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.

“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.

“Don’t you worry baby,

I’ll take good care of ya”

———————————————————————

Cute

Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.

Love you all, make sure to have a great day!

[heartfullofleeches]

Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and former Assassin Cat-Hybrid Darling. (Just a blurbo for now but I love these two now so I'd love to come back to this)

When the pair met, Darling thought Titus was no different from the rest of their targets. A self proclaimed god untouchable by those below him. Little did they know that their employers were basically setting them up on a suicide mention as the tyrant is a damn near immortal deity. As they perch atop his bed - knife planted in his chest, Darling counts their cards as a large hand locks around their wrist; pulling the blade out as one night remove a splinter. There was nowhere for them to run. The element of surprise had been swept from under their feet. They struggle and claw at the man, but there is no give to his iron grasp. As their brain draws to any conclusion a trapped animal may have, the knife in their hands is tossed across the room before they can take the final plunge.

The Emperor should have his little intruder punished. Waking a kind from his beauty rest is a serious offense. A crime in which the accused receives no trial and punished to the highest degree. Their eyelids removed so they never experience another second of slumber before their execution. There is also the more "amusing" route of electrocution or burning everytime they attempt to shut their eyes. Darling surely would have been subjected to this fate if they weren't so... So...

Precious~

Did this adorable little feline really think they could kill a god so easily? They insult him, but fortunately for them, they're cute enough for him to let it slide. The poor thing could use a bath though... And those scars.... When was the last time they had a proper meal? Oh, and those rags!

Titus scoops up the feisty kitty and thrusts them into the hands of his guards while he sorts through his closet for something to throw on until he can get them measured. Darling attempts to flee any chance they are alone, but with Titus promising to have the heads of everyone in the palace if they escaped - they never got far. Once they had some food in them and fully realized Titus wasn't bluffing when he called his home their new place of resident - Darling came up with a plan to lure Titus into false security and learn his witness to take him down when he least expected it. The only flaw in their plan was they underestimate their own commitment to the role as day by day their acceptance of the tyrant's obsession became less of an act.

They no longer had to work for their meals. Everything they could ever deserve was thrust placed right in their hands if they snuggled up to their new master or swished their tail just right in Union with those big adorable eyes. Their word stood above all in his counsel. They were waited on hand and foot by everyone under Titus' rulevIt was paradise. Their former comrades and the person they once were would be disgusted by what they've become, but if the former ever came to drag them back to their old ways they were swiftly cut down without so much as a passing glance from the royal that once stood beside them.

Titus is ever so glad he managed to bag that angry stray and turn them into the sweetest lil dear anyone has ever seen. He nearly loses his composure everytime he catches them lazying around in his robes - cloth barely clinging to their smaller figure. He knows they only do it to make sure he never says no to him, but there's hardly anything he would deny them beside their freedom. Whatever their heart longs for is a small prize to pay for their company. The Emperor is absolutely whipped for his little bedmate and would do anything to keep them collared at his side.

-

Assassin: You used to be something.... You could have lived a life similar to this without sacrificing your freedom if you had just taken his head. You are but a shell of the person I once knew. I despise you.

Cat Hybrid Reader: Hm... What you say might be true, but there's still something this life grants me that makes it all worth it

[Reader tears their shirt and knees on the floor closer to the cell as they shout]

Cat Hybrid Reader: Titus! Help!

Titus, storming down the dungeon stairwell: Oh, my precious angel. [Picks up Reader and checks them over for injuries] Don't worry, my love. I will have these awful, awful person executed at once. I'll have a necklace made from their ashes, but for now - will a massage and treats make do for leaving you all alone?

Cat Hybrid Reader, wiping fake tears from their eyes: yes....

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Vampire Heart ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟ Arlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Running away from an arranged marriage seemed like it was the only option for you, so you set out in the middle of the night only to stumble across a mansion deep in the woods. A beautiful stranger opens the door for you before you plead your case to seek shelter in her home. You faint as the harsh conditions from the night catch up to you and you awaken in a bed that ain’t yours with the same beautiful stranger tending to you. There’s something off about her though…

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), graphic depictions of blood sucking, hurt/comfort (only slight angst).

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Minerva - Deftones

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write a vamp!arle fic since FOREVERRRR and i’m finally getting to it!! This is just a quick intro so that I could get some ideas flowing ^_^ I don’t have exact plot points for what I want to happen, butttt i have a few ideas. There will definitely be a sexy blood sucking chapter though… so be prepared

❤︎ Chapter 1: Feverish

Shivers racked your body as you stumbled through the deep forest. A thick fog was beginning to settle, and it was just your luck that rain started to pour down as well. “S-Shit…” You mumble out, raising your hands above your head in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the drizzles of rain rolling down your body. By now you were soaked straight to the bone and it was getting harder and harder to trek through the foliage. Your limbs felt heavy and your limbs grew tired as you pushed on the best you could.

You were beginning to think that maybe running away from home was not the greatest idea in the world. Sure your parents wanted to marry you off to some guy twice your age just for riches and status, but in your delirious state, you thought to yourself that you would have taken that situation over what you were going through now. Your fingers were numb from carrying heavy bags full of clothes, other necessities, and a small amount of food and water to make it on your own. You weren’t quite sure where you were going when you left in the middle of the night, and you definitely didn’t have any sort of plan, but in the moment you just couldn’t take it anymore.

The hope of finding a place to rest for the night dwindled down by the second. That is until you stumbled into a large clearing, revealing a huge mansion. It was breathtaking… Black bricks made up the facade and gold accents were sprinkled throughout the building. The rooftop came into steep gables, signaling the different rooms in the house. There were few windows though, most of them dark, but a few of them emanated a soft yellow glow. You assumed someone must be home, but you wondered what they were doing awake this late at night.

The dark architecture filled your vision, and you knew it was shady, but you were willing to take the risk. You just missed the feeling of being warm, cozy, and most of all, dry. You were willing to stay in a place like this even just for the night, as long as you had shelter from the harsh outside conditions.

As you approached the intimidating structure you could have sworn you saw a figure in the window of the highest floor. The figure disappeared just as quickly as you saw it though. A sickening feeling was beginning to settle into your stomach as you made your way up to the door and wrapped your frozen fingers around the large, intricate door knocker. You knocked three times, the sound of rough iron clanging against the door echoed into the cold night. Moments later, you heard shuffling behind the door and the sound of heels approaching. The door creaked open, revealing a tall woman with a slender figure dressed in a grey, black, and red suit. You found it odd considering it was the middle of the night and she was still fully dressed, but you pushed that thought away before opening your blue-tinged lips to speak.

“I know, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m a stranger…” you started, “but I’m in dire need of somewhere to stay and-“ You couldn’t even stay upright any longer. You fell to the floor with a loud thud before you could even finish explaining yourself, and the last thing your fuzzy brain could remember was being lifted into the arms of the beautiful stranger.

Your eyes fluttered open groggily as you looked around the dark room you had been situated in. It was clear this wasn’t your own room, but you couldn’t remember anything that had happened. The last thing you remembered was fainting at the doorstep of the large castle-like home you had encountered.

Soft, cloud-like pillows were placed beneath your head and you were enveloped in silky blankets that cascaded over your body. Somehow you had been changed into dry clothes as well. The soft scent of roses wafted through the air and you almost felt like you were in heaven. At least that’s what you would have thought if a headache wasn’t brewing from the rough night you had. You tried to lift your tired body up with shaky arms before falling back into the bed again.

“Ah, you’ve awoken.” A deep voice calls to you from the shadows. Too tired to move your head in the direction of the voice, your eyes scan the room before landing on the woman whose home you were in. “What time is it?” Your voice was raspy and sore, you knew it would turn into a full blown fever in no time. “A little past 4 in the morning, you were out for some time.” The woman answered before swiftly moving to the bedside.

She pressed a cold, gloved hand to your forehead and it almost offered a bit of relief to your growing fever. She clicked her tongue before standing up straight again, “This is no good. You’ll have to stay here until you’re better.” You felt guilt bubbling up in your stomach as she offered you a place to stay, you had originally not even planned to stay past the morning, but she insisted. Your protests just fell upon deaf ears because she was not listening to a single word you said.

You gave up a while ago once your words had just become babbles of incoherent thoughts. Your feverish state began to catch up to you and you were weaving in and out of consciousness. The whole time, the woman beside you hadn’t budged though. She stayed glued to the bedside in a big comfortable chair she moved to be closer to you. If you asked her why she was seemingly so attached to you she’d brush it off and say she couldn’t watch someone be so sickly in her presence without doing anything about it, but in the back of her mind it was because she felt a flutter in her heart every time she looked at your sleeping figure. She couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was though. Perhaps it was your full, blushing cheeks, or your pouty lips, or your soft hands that tugged at the blankets to pull them closer as you tossed and turned in your sleep.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she heard you shuffling around, you were growing restless due to the fever that had worsened in just an hour. She retrieved a cool wash cloth and placed it over your forehead in an attempt to cool you off before soothing your hair down gently. “At least try to sleep soundly, dear.” She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to wake you up fully. You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating or not, but when she spoke you saw the glint of sharp fangs in her mouth. And if you looked closely, you could see the soft glowing of red whenever your eyes met hers.

Everything was a bit weird to you, but you didn’t question it due to your feverish state. The last thing you could recall before falling back asleep for the rest of the morning were the two little dots that resembled a bite mark on the right side of her neck. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was a blood-sucking creature that you had only heard about in folk tales.

“Sleep well, dear.” The beautiful stranger hummed before standing from her seat and making her way out of the room. She vanished from the room swiftly and you were left with nothing but sleep to consume you in no time.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I have an idea if you accept💕

What would the romantic and scary version be like? From the nun! Alastor with reader, where the 7 years that Alastor disappeared in hell, for some reason he was summoned by someone (probably teenagers doing stupid things) and because of that, he was trapped in the radio, of course he took advantage of this to haunt everyone who bought the radio ... Until the Human! reader bought the radio, but what Alastor didn't expect was that he fell in love with her after a while... Just like in the horror film Valak, apart from the romance part, it's obvious! (film: The Conjuring).

Note feel comfortable could be a yandere alastor? If it can't be normal....

Wicked Woman~

(I love this concept, especially if, later on down the line, the reader dies and remembers her life with Al. Please let me know if you would like this as a part two. I followed closely to what you asked but put my spin on it. Hope you all enjoy.)

TW: Dark themes, Murder, Death, Yandere Type Tendencies, Stockholm Syndrome

Alastors POV

Hell was everything I could ask for it to be. After my untimely death by those damn dogs, I vowed to continue my pursuit of power and strength. I entered hell unfathomably powerful, and I will take hell over with this power. I was feared and revered even by the highest class of demons that walked among us. Thousands of poor, unfortunate souls rested in my claws. Even in this prey-like form, I was purely a predator. 

How my name ended up in those damn demon books up top was beyond me; it probably had something to do with the one I sold my soul to for even more power—a damn trick to make me suffer for having power that rivaled those in all of hell. Yet, no one was brave enough to fully summon me or try and control me. I was elusive and would scare anyone who wanted to open ties with me on the mortal plane. However, that was my biggest downfall. In hopes of showing off my immense power and strength, I allowed those up top to know more about me in the end.

Ironically, children sought to summon me more than any damn adult; hell, I even thought cult leaders would call upon me more than this. That fateful day, though, when I was trapped in the radio, was due to some pesky teenage punks looking to harm some poor young girl. I hate people like that, those who prey on the weak, just like my father. 

It was quick work killing those teens off; the world was probably thousands of times better off without them. Yet every time I tried to go back to hell, I was stuck, some weird plan of reality; I was there on earth, but I wasn't. This had to be another twisted game my master was putting me through. It was another joke to show how I was still just below them on the food chain of power.

I knew showing my demon form would be unwise in this place; enough people tried calling on me as it was. While deciding my next plan of action, I heard the sirens coming close to the location of the slaughter. Sighing, I absorbed myself in the radio, hidden from sight and out of mind. Watching the clean-up was entertaining, but scaring the wits out of the police and cleaning crew was far superior. 

Once all was said and done, I learned this cabin was in the middle of the woods, once owned by one of those teens' parents. After the gruesome murders and odd occurrences around the house done by yours truly, they sold it off. This left a gorgeous cabin in the woods empty for me to enjoy. Being so secluded, I could come and go from the radio as I pleased; no need to fear that someone would see me.

This cabin reminded me so much of my home in the bayou with my mother. The woods resembled that of where my father took me hunting, resembled where I ended his life, and countless other horrible humans that got in my way. This place felt like I was living my human life once more with less killing that is.

For a year, I had tried going back to hell countless times. However, I realized till my master needed me, I was trapped here on the mortal plane. Accepting my fate, I decided to give up on hell and take this nice vacation. Who knows, maybe with my time away, I could have new ladders to climb upon my return. Plus, no one would dare to buy a cabin in the middle of the woods after a gruesome murder, where it was deemed haunted. 

I was dead wrong, however, when I heard the noises outside the cabin door. It finally happened on the day that marked the first year of my purgatory on the human plane. Someone had bought the cabin in the woods. I was shocked and almost pleased with this person's brazen stupidity. It's probably another punk kid wanting to do rituals or someone running away from their misdeeds. 

Yet the biggest surprise was the young woman who entered the house with the first set of boxes. She was lovely, kind, and vibrant. She wore a large black hat even though the skies were cloudy gray. Her voice sounded like bells from a chapel, and her smile radiated the sun's light. If my undead heart could beat, it would be beating faster. 

I swore off love at a young age, only courting women when it allowed me closer to targets that I needed to kill. Once in hell, I just killed to kill, no need for love or emotions. Yet this woman lit something within me that was to be feared and hated. 

As the days passed, I watched her unpack her boxes. I learned she was a Wiccan, finding joy in the dark and light of all things. I knew she knew I was there. She could feel me lurking in the shadows and hovering around. No matter how often she saged the house, I stayed, an entity far surpassing her mortal purities and spirituality. However, I would hand it to her; her spiritual prowess was strong.

I tried relentlessly to scare her off; I had a rule about killing women: unless they were evil, I would never lay a hand on them. So, all I had going for me was scare tactics and horror. Convincing her, I would eventually kill her. A few cuts and bruises here or there from a broken floorboard or a throwing knife. She never budged, though, a smile on her face as she said a prayer and went on with her day like I hadn’t just hung knives above her head. 

Months had passed since she joined me in this cabin; she cut firewood early in the morning, would come home, shower, cook food, go out to the town an hour away, and then come home and relax or pray to her deities. She did not care about my existence; the more I became attached to her, the more she didn’t care or fear. She took to calling me Shadowy, a stupid name but chosen purely due to me refusing to show her my proper form. I lurked in the shadows, only allowing that to be seen. Sure beat her first name for me, Radioy; humans suck at naming things.

Sitting at two years trapped in the mortal realm with a woman I was growing fond of wasn’t my ideal step in the process of unlimited power. However, I was more content trapped here in this cabin as long as it was with her and her alone. She would bring men over, enjoy their company, and send them on their way. They never made it far, though, having accidents as they returned to their place. Even when she left the house for the night to see them, I knew exactly who they were. 

By year three, she had stopped dating, growing frustrated with my senseless killings. The police had shown up at our door countless times to question her involvement, only for them to fade from existence as well. She stopped going outside much, only cutting firewood and grocery shopping occasionally. As much as it pained me to see her light diminishing, it also fueled a sick, sadistic part of me. 

I enjoyed watching her more; now that I didn’t have to worry about others popping up, I began showing her my proper form. A slight sense of pride swelled in me as she became pleased to witness my deer-like looks. Though I hated my looks, how she fawned over me, almost forgetting all my misdeeds towards her, was pleasing. I allowed myself to indulge in daily life with her, I stopped trying to scare her or kill her, and we fell into a semblance of domestic life. 

Once year four came around, she was tied to the house after interacting with a hunter in the woods. I would go out and kill her meat and anyone on our land. I would bring her wood and sustenance with my face covered in the blood of those who dared to try me. Eventually, she, too, became okay with this method of mine, and I was thrilled. I had my perfect human right here just for me. 

I taught her how to dance and cook meals my mother once taught me, showing her the joys of good Southern cooking. Though I could not process the cooked meals I showed her, I knew feeding her and making her strong was all that mattered. I gained plenty of sustenance by killing off anyone who came close to her. I gained sustenance by watching her fall more into me and my spell as I fell more into hers.

 Year five came around, and I had her clung to me; she was mine and mine alone. She gave up on her deities and only worshiped me. Fueling the God complex I already had, I swore to make her mine; no other man or demon could take her. She was powerful spiritually, and she would be vital in her death when she joined me. 

I began teaching her how to kill and maim those who entered our woods. I taught her how to murder and never be caught. In the beginning, she was horrible. I had to end a lot of police lives, yet she grew stronger as time went on. Soon, she was as notorious of a serial killer as I once was. The woods covered our tracks, ensuring we were hidden from the eyes of others. Oh, how I wished when I was alive that a spirit would assist me like this in my kills. 

In year six, I knew she was as strong as I was when I fell to hell. I made her so perfect, molding her to my ways. I knew when her time came in death, she would find me; my Doe. She used her spiritual powers to assist me in breaking my binds to my master. Though nothing ever seemed to work, she was persistent. I was proud; I understood why pride would be such a sin. Watching her work her powers and drain herself for me was delicious. 

This year was the year I finally claimed her. I took her and made her mine, not just in thought or word but in mind and body. I would not allow anyone to ruin my hard work. She was perfect, and she deserved me as I did her. We were bonded in a way that transcended soul bonds or mortal relationships. We were unstoppable.

This knowledge alone is why, come year seven, I felt the shift in my presence. I knew it was coming to my departure from her world. My master was calling me back to hell, threatened by the perfect morsel that I had created. My master knew I would be unstoppable if I followed my plan to convince her to die, to join me in the afterlife as one. This alone is what sent me back to hell, the fear I struck in the one I had controlling me.

I knew when it was my time to perish, she would join me here, and we would rule hell side by side. No one would stop that—no contract, no princess, and certainly no king. Though I enjoy the hotel and the people I have met there, I know my power only has room to grow. My doe would make quick work of anyone who dared to take her from me. She was left on earth to grow stronger and stronger to benefit me in her death. To help me rule all of hell. I would be unstoppable and grow immensely in all dimensions and planes of reality.

Oh, and my power will grow; it will grow when my wicked woman joins us in this fiery blaze…

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, some headcanons about the Ninja team that I have this is in alphabetical order. Part II here!

Cole

• Being the Earth Elemental, he knows several types of rocks, earth and minerals, as each one has a different structure that can interfere and/or contribute to a task/fight.

• Even though he hated dancing for a long time, he still practiced some steps from different dance styles, because some of them were very similar to moves that could be used in battle he did it in secret thought.

• For a long time he always acted a little distant from the other team members, but he was still there to support them if they needed it.

• He's a mama's boy, and he loved seeing Lilly and Lou dancing together.

• It was his grandfather who chose his name. He was bedridden, but he held on until Lilly gave birth to the baby, and when Grandfather saw the little one he cried, because he knew he wouldn't survive to see the child growing up, So, Lilly asked him to name him, as if it were an "I'll always be here" gesture from grandfather to grandson.

• His favorite game is the one where there's a bunch of food falling from the sky and you have to catch it, he's already broken a record 3 times in this game.

Jay

• He's the fastest and most elastic/flexible on the team. This guy's ability to put his thigh behind his head is insane, you DON'T want to be his partner in stretching exercises.

• He knows the Kyusho-Jitsu. This is a technique/type of fight used to stun/paralyze the opponent by striking pressure points (Curiosity, this is the technique that inspired Ty Lee's Chi Blocking technique from ATLA). He uses this on normal criminals, like thieves, assassins, and smuggling gangs, that way they don't get hurt. However, he also use it on Krypytarium criminals, but with the addition of a mild shock to ensure the criminal is rendered unconscious.

• Edna taught him how to cook, so he has the ability to make really good food. Although he prefers to make roasts and stews.

• Jay is a sleepwalker. Not daily, but during really bad lightning storms. Master Wu often found him sleeping on the highest point of the Monastery after the storm. Once, the Ninjas tried to keep him inside the room during the storm. They locked the door and windows and kept watch. But somehow, Jay still managed to get out of the room and get into the storm. No one ever found out how he did this.

• This one I got from Lloyd’s Guide To Surviving The Merge, a lovely fanfiction of @omgjayaaa, I really loved that one He's a medic. He knows how to treat illnesses, injuries, concussions, etc. It started out more as a hobby. Check out medical books from the local library and spend hours reading and applying the teachings on the Monastery's training dummies (sometimes Zane was the victim) just as a "strange diversion" (Kai's words). However, one day, there was a training accident and Cole dislocated his arm, while everyone was worried trying to call the hospital, in an incredible act not to mention strange of calm, Jay grabbed Cole's arm and relocated it back into place, then he borrowed some materials that were in his room and made a sling for the Earth Elemental's arm. No one ever forgot that day, because while Jay was "Just another normal day" the others were staring at him like "What the fuck was that?"

• I also got this from a Ninjago chat fanfic, also from @omgjayaaa He is a natural with children. You can't say otherwise, that this super sensitive and humorous man doesn't have a natural ability to calm/entertain/do anything involving children. And he really enjoys that, being able to make a baby stop crying and go to sleep or helping a child that got lost from the parents. Your honor, this man has everything it takes to be a good father and you're not going to change my mind.

Kai

• He hates super spicy food, being the Fire Elemental doesn't mean his taste buds are pepper/wasabi approved. He just likes a small amount in his food. Ironically, spicy food can kind of serve as fuel for the fire, so the hotter the pepper is, the more heat the fire emanates from it. Although he hates this ability.

• He's not very good at reading/writing, he left school very early to take care of Nya and the Blacksmith, so he lost most of his literacy skills. However, he took some lessons from Wu, so he didn't feel so out of place.

• In fact, his natural hair is like his mother's, but it's as untamable as his father's, which is why he uses so much hair gel. Like, you can't say that wavy and stubborn hair is not hard to care.

• He's that kind of person who sings in the shower, he often forgets that there are people in the Monastery and starts singing so loud that you can hear it from the training yard.

• He and Jay, often in secret, hang out together. Where? Karaoke. Kai sings and Jay plays the guitar, sometimes they change roles Kai prefers to play the bass. It's a lot of fun for both of them, but they don't want to let others find out, because they know none of them, especially Nya, would let it go.

• As much as many people think otherwise, of the RGB siblings, Kai is the most "stable". Not because he wants to, but because he is Nya and Lloyd's support. He feels very embarrassed when the papers change.

• He is super attentive to people close to him, especially Lloyd, who is the youngest on the team. However, now with the addition of Wyldfyre, Sora and Arin in DR, he is as protective as he was with Lloyd.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.1

masterlist

ellie williams x fem! reader (ur kind of a girly girl in this one sorry)

summary: you’re one of the luckiest people in the world as one of the few families that managed to gain entrance to the most exclusive safezone on earth. after living 19 years of your life in a soft and forgiving world, a lab accident sends you across the country to jackson, wyoming, entirely unprepared and unaware of what awaits you in the real world. its a good thing u run into a hot lesbian wink wink nudge nudge

a/n: now listen now hear me out i know this plot sounds kooky asf and im sorry i literally thought this shit up in a covid fever dream. but anyway i basically blacked out at the keyboard and have about 6k words to show for this weekend and no completed hw. i can’t believe im writing. this im so sorry

warnings: ellie is mean asf at first, reader is clueless and cannot do a pushup, you’re also a little bit of a snob and have a fixation on etiquette.  i promise it gets better just bear w me lMAO. she/her pronouns for the reader, v vanilla violence and explicit language. kinda enemies to lovers vibe

im so sorry u guys idk what got into me this is the goofiest au i’ve ever written ok but i just want ellie to get to learn abt the stars and shit after all she’s been thru she deserves it ok enjoy part 2 coming whenever i finish it.

wc: 6k

It wasn’t that you didn’t know that something bad had happened to the rest of the world. You did. Of course you did. You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to not realize that there was maybe something else going on when no one was allowed outside of the walls and anyone who returned told hushed stories of decimated buildings and piles of corpses.

It was just difficult to grasp the idea of the world you knew no longer existing outside the bounds of the city. To anyone before the pandemic, you’re sure that you lead what seemed like a normal life for any privileged kid.

You had two parents, both of whom loved you very much. You went to an elementary school, then a middle school, and then eventually high school and university. You went shopping with your friends. You watched movies and ate shitty junk food and had first kisses and went on ice cream dates. You studied what captivated your interest the most—space—and threw your soul into learning about the physics of the universe.

You laid on your dorm bed, playing with the edges of your pink comforter as you gossiped with your roommate, Irena, about the professor that she thought was hot and the boy who tried to harass you for your number after you’d finished up getting lunch.

You lived a normal life, which is pretty ironic, because the only reason you got to say that was because you were born to not-normal people who had been at the right place at the right time when the world fell apart.

You see, when everyone got sick, some areas got hit harder than others. And your parents, who were vacationing in some swanky exclusive Canadian resort that only the elite knew about, happened to hit the jackpot.

Not only was their vacation spot the one area in North America with a significant metropolitan population that managed to get enough time to adequately prepare, they happened to be traveling with some big-wig execs that knew a guy who knew a guy who was in the process of evacuating and putting the final touches on a safe zone, Terranova, intended for only the highest rungs of North American society.

So, there you were. Some 25 years or so after the world as your ancestors knew it fell to shit—and you were sipping cappuccinos and getting facials without a care in the world. All because of a lucky vacation.

And, for the record, it’s not that you were ungrateful. You knew that you were lucky to be living in the last place on earth with a semblance of normalcy. What you didn’t know, however, was just how lucky you were, and you didn’t find this out until you made that one stupid mistake in Gunther’s lab.

~

“Morning, Y/N!” called out Professor Gunther, a short, squatty man with a receding hairline so impressive that his forehead now ended halfway up his scalp.

“Morning, Professor,” you said, setting your bag down on the desk, winding your long scarf from around your neck and running a hand through your hair to get the tangles out. The wind outside had been especially fierce for February, which was not ideal given that you'd forgotten your hat at home.

“Guess what I’ve got?” Gunther was smiling, his teeth perfect white squares.

You gasped. “No. It’s already here?”

He said nothing; instead, he pushed forward a slightly battered box with dents and various smudges and marks that were telltale indicators for outside shipments.

“No way,” you said, pulling it into your hands. For a moment you debated using your nails to open the seam, but you’d just gotten them done, so you reached for a pair of scissors on the table.

“This is even more than we need,” you told Gunther, reaching in to pull out a spool of wire that shimmered under the lab lights. “Can I just hook it up now? Or is there something else I should do?”

There was, in fact, something that you should’ve done before going with your pliers and wire. Something about your model wasn’t quite right, but you’d figure that out a little too late.

You see, you and old Professor Gunther were attempting to build a prototype that would enable travel at the speed of light. It did sound insane—and you should’ve known that it was a pipe dream—but you were a space nerd with nearly limitless funding and support from one of the most famous surviving professors in the world. It had been Gunther’s pet project, one that you joined as a research assistant in your first year at the university. Once you’d caught wind of it, you couldn’t stay away, and you two quickly began to form a connection only understood by lonely and isolated academics.

“Go for it,” said Gunther, waving his hand dismissively.

Excitedly, you approached the table, your hands almost shaking as you held the wire. It was a fairly new invention, first used in the creation of Terranova and its walls to effectively make it invisible to the outside world. It boasted a variety of properties that made it academically fascinating and functionally useful. Gunther had had a suspicion that it would be useful in stabilizing the process of disseminating atoms to make light speed travel possible, so you’d placed the order for a couple of spools.

“And I think that’s it,” you said, using your pliers to shape the blunt edge that you had just clipped and plugging it into the circuit board. A purple sheen seemed to vibrate around the bundle of wires and boxes.

Gunther leaned over your shoulder, peering at everything through the spectacles perched on his pudgy nose. “Well done, dear. Say, before we turn this thing on and start running some preliminary tests, would you mind grabbing us some tea from the caf? My treat.”

“Of course,” you said, standing up and brushing your hands off. “Lapsang?”

He nodded. “And anything you’d like.”

You pulled my scarf back on, pulling it snugly around your neck and snatching your bag from the table. The walk to the cafeteria was short, but it was cold enough to require suiting up again. You ordered, paid with Gunther’s card, and sat quietly as you watched the snow fall outside.

It was a beautiful morning. The wind had died down, leaving the snow to fall from the gray skies in fat, puffy flakes. The city outside was quiet, with only the gentle hum of the occasional car to break the silence.

“Y/N! A Lapsang Souchong and a Jasmine Green?”

You leapt up and grabbed the two disposable cups, smiling widely at the barista. “Hey, would you mind throwing a bag of coffee in too?”

“Anything specific?” he asked.

“I don’t know anything about coffee,” you admitted. “Anything that isn’t decaf. It’s for my roommate.”

He nodded and rang you up for the coffee, and you were back on your way.

“My dear!” boomed Gunther when you came back, throwing the lab door open and nearly floating off the ground in excitement.

“Lapsang with a spot of honey, as always,” you said, passing the cup into his hands. The bite from the heat slowly faded from your palm—the barista had forgotten to put a sleeve on his cup.

“Lovely,” he said, setting it down next to you. “I’m just going to go ahead and flip the switch…keep your wits about you! Haha.”

“Ha,” you said, though suddenly you were getting more nervous. The longer you looked at the wires, the less sense they made. And was that two uncovered wires touching? ”Hey, wait, actually—”

Click.

A hum filled the room as the power flicked on. The bright white overhead lights flickered once, twice, and then went out. Something that smelled suspiciously like smoke filled the room.

“Fuck!” Gunther fumbled for the switch. You, similarly, lunged forward to see if you could manually disconnect the wires from the input. “It’s short circ—”

As soon as you made contact with the input wire, you heard the sound of a cup tipping over seconds before the splashing of hot tea.

Then everything went black.

~

When you awoke, it was because you were shaking so hard that your teeth were clicking painfully together.

Slowly, you pulled open my eyelids to see a brilliantly blue sky without a cloud in sight, wide and unimpeded by any skyscrapers. This was definitely not Gunther’s lab.

You groaned as feeling began to return to your body, along with a thudding headache and soreness in every joint. Gently, you pressed your weight into your fingers and slowly sat yourself up, making observations as you went.

You were not dead. Your heart was still beating and your nerves still functioned as usual. You had no idea how long you'd been lying on the ground, but it had to have been at least an hour given that the sun was almost in the middle of the sky.

Another observation: you were nowhere near Terranova.

Instead, you were in the clearing of a forest, surrounded by trees with unfamiliar trunk patterns and leaves. A thick bed of white snow coated everything in sight except for you.

You were well and truly fucked. There was nowhere even remotely nearby the city that you knew was in a fully forested area.

Though at least now you held the title of the first person alive to travel at light speed. It was a small comfort, but it was something to cling to.

A shriek sounded behind you, and you spun around, still seated on the ground. The forest line was clear, but you could hear rustling. For a moment you considered that it could be an animal, but it didn’t sound like any woodland creature. It sounded unmistakably human.

“Hello?” you called out.

The shriek came again, accompanied by more crunching—both much closer this time.

“Are you alright?” you asked, hoping your voice would carry to whoever it was. “Are you hurt?”

A mangled man suddenly came into sight as he fell into the clearing from a lopsided sprint, barreling right towards you. One of his knees was bent outwards as he went, so badly it looked broken, but it wasn’t enough to slow him down as he ran towards you.

You screamed, a real and proper one that pierced the frigid air. There was no time for to run as the man closed the gap and rammed into you, his filthy hands gripping your arms through your heavy jacket as his snapping teeth and rancid breath lunged for your neck.

Bang!

A single shot rang out. The man fell limp, slumping on top of you as you frantically snapped into motion and scrambled out from under him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

You whipped back around to see a girl standing at the other side of the clearing, a revolver in her hand and an incredibly cross expression etched into her features. She must’ve been around your age, and she had short auburn hair that barely brushed her shoulders and was being tossed about by the wind. There was a spattering of freckles across her face, muted against the backdrop of her cheeks reddened from exertion.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small and pathetic. You couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m Y/N.”

The girl just stared at you for a few more beats before turning back. “Jesse! Dina! Some help?”

You pulled your knees into your chest as you waited for whatever was to come. Now that the man was off of you, you could see that there was blood trickling from his gaping maw. Something that looked almost like shards had sprouted, like little spring buds, in little areas around his face. Even his normal, unshard-ed skin was a pallor that looked like death. Something wasn’t right here.

“Okay,” said the girl, gruffer this time. “Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are just waltzing in like this, but this isn’t open to the public, alright? You’re trespassing.”

“Sorry,” you said, shrinking further into yourself as you thumbed the edges of your scarf. “I didn’t know.”

“Get the hell out of here,” she said, grabbing your backpack from the ground near her feet and throwing it at you.

Two other people emerged from the trees, another girl and one guy. They all seemed roughly the same age—early 20s, maybe—and were all carrying various weapons ranging from guns to knives.

To say you were on edge would be the understatement of the century.

They spoke in hushed tones as they approached the first girl.

“I don’t understand,” the other girl said, long black locks escaping from her ponytail. “We literally just patrolled this area. There’s no way to get here without either going through the town or going over the pass, and no one’s done that.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see her then?” The boy looked curiously at you.

“Fucking obviously,” snapped the first girl. “I think we would’ve noticed.” Then, directed at you: “Hey. How’d you even wind up here?”

“Uh….” Your mouth became dry. “Where am I again?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t even know?”

“Ellie,” warned the other girl. “Maybe she’s been out here for a while. Hypothermia can make you think crazy things.”

“She doesn’t look like she’s been out here for long,” pointed out the first girl, presumably Ellie.

“You’re right outside Jackson,” said the other girl helpfully.

“How close am I to Terranova?”

“The fuck is Terra-whatta?” Ellie frowned at you.

“Where I live,” you said. “I—I’m a student there. I was working on a project and something went wrong and then all of a sudden I woke up here and—what is that thing?” You gestured frantically at the limp body of the man beside you, the shock slowly subsiding as reality set in. “He almost killed me!”

Ellie gaped at you along with her two friends. “What do you mean, what is that thing? Have you never seen a runner before?”

“A runner?” You stared back. “These things are normal enough for you to have a name for them?”

“Oh my god,” said Ellie, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Have you, like, never been outside before?”

“No,” you said, honestly. “I’ve never left the city walls.”

“We have got to take her back with us,” said the other girl.

“Dina.” Ellie scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dina’s right,” said the guy, finally chiming in. “We can’t just leave her out here. She doesn’t even know what a runner is. She’s gonna be killed like that.”

Ellie considered, gnawing her lip. “Fine. Consider this your lucky day, Y/N. Get up.”

The first thing you did upon reaching your feet was faint once again.

~

“I told you, Joel, we just found her like this! Lying on the ground, with nothing but her bag.”

A man said something that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Yes. I went through it. No weapons, just…weird things. Like this.”

Your eyes snapped open to see Dina rooting around in your backpack, pulling out your laptop. You were laid horizontally on a table in some warmly lit home.

“Hey!” you said. She turned around, along with a tall, buff man at her side. “Be careful with that. That has all my homework on it.”

“See?” Dina whispered. “Do you think she hit her head or something, Joel?”

Joel frowned, picking up your laptop despite your protests. “I haven’t seen one of these in…I can’t even remember how long. And I’ve never seen one this slim before. Where’d you say you got this, er…”

“Y/N,” Dina supplied.

“From my university,” you said. There was a fire that crackled somewhere behind you, and it sounded comforting. “They provide all students with laptops. That’s how we do most of our schoolwork.”

“Let me guess,” said Joel. “You from the North? A place called Terra Something?”

“That’s a real thing?” Ellie came from around the corner, standing with her arms crossed. She’d changed out of her heavy winter coat and was instead wearing a dark gray hoodie with the strings tied into a bow.

“Never been there myself,” he said. “But when I was doing supply runs back in Boston we always heard whispers of a safezone in Canada. For rich assholes who had some even richer survivalist friends. The Fireflies attempted to break in for years, but they could never find it.”

“So, like a QZ?” asked Ellie, looking genuinely curious.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. No one acknowledged it.

“Not quite,” said Joel. “No FEDRA. With no military presence, I’m sure it was a hell of a lot cushier living there. Wasn’t it, Y/N?”

“I don’t have anything to compare it to,” you said. “But, yeah. I guess it was nice. It was just normal, I guess. Nothing extraordinary.”

“You’re wearing a cashmere scarf,” Joel pointed out. “That’s not what I’d call normal in the apocalypse.”

You blushed, pulling at the fringes of said black scarf. The fabric was thin and soft, impossibly warm against your bare neck. “It didn’t—it doesn’t feel like the apocalypse in Terranova.”

“And how’d you make it all the way out here?”

“I’m a research assistant for a professor attempting to invent travel at the speed of light,” you said. “We just hooked it up to a different wire today. It short-circuited and when my professor and I rushed to shut it off, he spilled his tea on me and the prototype. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

Joel blinked. “What now?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” you said, defensively pulling your knees to your chest. “But I’m telling the truth, honestly. Plus, look at me.” You let go of your scarf and held out your hands, letting the glow of the fire catch the immaculate pearl polish on your fingers. “Do I look like someone who’s traveled from Canada to wherever I am now?”

“She’s got a point,” said Dina, nodding thoughtfully. “It really must be nice where you come from to have hands like that. It doesn’t look like you’ve done a day of work in your life. Reckon you could take us back with you?”

Joel sent her a stern look. “What did you parents do to gain access to a place like that? You the daughter of the president or something?”

“No. They just got lucky,” you explained. “They were summering in Canada and happened to befriend the founders of Terranova right before outbreak day.”

“‘Summering’,” repeated Joel. “It’s been a while since I heard someone use a season as a verb. Somehow it’s not been long enough.”

You cringed.

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little disappointing to hear that folks like your parents are still living in the lap of luxury, even after the world ended,” said Joel. “A part of me hoped that karma would get ‘em.”

“I didn’t realize how bad it was out here,” you said defensively. “They didn’t even tell me about…what was that that tried to kill me out there? Walkers?”

“Runners,” Ellie supplied. She watched you quietly from her position leaning up against the couch.

“You ran into one?” asked Joel, another wrinkle appearing in his forehead. “Ellie, have you checked her for bites?”

Ellie’s freckled face paled as she swore. “Fuck. No, I forgot. I should’ve done it in the clearing.”

“Well, better now than never. Listen, I gotta meet up with Tommy. You check ‘er. You got a gun ready, just in case?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, looking thoroughly scandalized. “What do you mean, just in case?”

“I’ll be outside,” said Dina, following Joel as he left the door.

“How come it’s my job?” Ellie called after them. “No one asked me how I felt about this!”

The door banged shut in reply. She turned back to face you, her lips set into a firm line. “Fine. Take your coat off. Let’s make this quick.”

“I didn’t feel anything bite me,” you said, grabbing your knees tighter to your chest. Ellie was intimidating and scary, and you rather liked how you currently wore an extra layer of protection.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say.” She walked over to you, grabbing your scarf and unwinding it from your neck. “Shit. Is this what Joel called cashmere?”

“Yeah,” you said, watching as she stared at the fabric pooled in her hands. “It’s nothing special, really. Everyone wears them in Terranova.”

Ellie stared at you. “Can you stop saying Terranova? I swear it’s every third word that comes out of your mouth. I honestly couldn’t give a shit about whatever fantasyland you grew up in while the rest of us dealt with the real world.”

You opened your mouth, then thought better of it and closed it. It was discombobulating to hear a stranger swear so often at you.

Ellie knocked your hands from your knees and stared down at you. “Are you actually gonna make me take off everything myself? Do they have hired help to unzip your coats in Terra Novella?”

“Terranova.”

Ellie let out a sharp sigh, then lunged for the zipper near your throat.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you said, yanking yourself away and pulling your zipper down to reveal your standard lab outfit—a satiny button up shirt tucked into slacks. You pulled the rest of your puffer off, letting it drop in a pile next to you.

“So,” you said as Ellie grabbed your arm, gently rolling up the fabric of your blouse and turning your forearm back and forth, “Is this, like, a normal thing? To have deranged people in the woods attack you like that?”

“They’re not people,” she said quietly. Satisfied with your left arm, she moved to the next and let your unbuttoned sleeve fall. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie’s fingers encircled your right wrist as she fiddled with your sleeve. They were warm as they brushed across your skin, just barely touching you. “You really don’t know? I thought you at least knew about outbreak day.”

“Of course I know about outbreak day,” you said defensively. “I’m not stupid.”

Ellie arched a brow.

“They told us that it was a virus,” you added. “That it was lethal and incredibly infectious. Is that not what happened?”

“It’s not a virus, it’s a fungus,” corrected Ellie, letting go of your sleeve and stepping back as you redid the buttons at your wrist. “And it doesn’t just kill. It turns you into—into something like what you saw today. You lose your mind. The only thing that matters to you is biting everyone and spreading the infection.”

“Oh.”

“I saw you get tackled. Did your legs get scratched up at all?”

“No,” you responded, feeling thankful that you wouldn’t need to take your pants off. In that moment, literally nothing seemed more embarrassing. Your hands had begun to shake again.

“Didn’t think so.”

“If it had bitten me, would that mean that I…I would get sick too?”

“Nice going, Sherlock,” said Ellie, returning to her spot against the couch. “Really stellar reasoning skills there.”

You pulled your knees back into your chest, the gravity of the situation sinking in. All this time you’d thought it was just a virus—a measly virus that killed. That it could be anything else had never occurred to you.

“Keep shaking and I’m going to start to think that you were bitten.” She smiled thinly at you from across the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your teeth bouncing against each other once before you clenched your jaw. “Please cut me some slack. This is just a lot to take in. If you’ll recall, I’ve just been the first person in history to undergo atomic dissolution and reassembly. It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Ellie, her eyes narrowed. “It’s a wonder any of us are alive.”

Your lips pressed tightly together as you sat, trying your best not to lose it at her. You’d always been brought up to be kind, to be forgiving and sweet and polite. After all, there was never any reason not to be. Terranova’s culture put a heavy emphasis on keeping the peace no matter what. Your parents rarely ever raised their voices. Your professors kindly and respectfully asked their pupils to settle down if they were too noisy, but since you were all brought up with impeccable manners, such instances were few and far between. It just wasn’t a thing to chew strangers out. Such behavior was only reserved for extraordinary situations of the like you’d never experienced. Speaking of manners…

“Thank you,” you said, finally. Yeah, you could be the bigger person.

Ellie’s gaze snapped up to you, her brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“For saving me,” you clarified, avoiding her eyes. They were uncomfortably piercing. “Sorry. I should’ve thanked you earlier. That was rude of me. And I’m also sorry for just barging in here. I promise it wasn’t on purpose. Trust me, I would do anything to be back home right now.”

“I bet you would.” Her eyes dropped briefly to your hands, unblemished and smooth as they clutched your knees. Not even a cuticle was out of place, a result of your weekly manicures and daily lotion habit.

“Sorry,” you said again, feeling heat rise in your cheeks once again. “I probably sound so insufferable and spoiled to you.”  

“Just—” She paused, frowning. “Just stop apologizing. It’s fine. It’s not your fault, or whatever.” The words seemed to pain her.

“What’s a QZ?” you asked. Now that you’d had a moment to draw in a few deep breaths, your hands were steady once again.

“Quarantine Zone,” said Ellie. “Established by what was left of the government for those of us normal people. There are a couple scattered around the country in the big cities.”

“Did you live in one? What’re they like?”

She was about to answer when the door banged open.

“Ellie!” Dina’s voice was breathless. “Joel wants me and you to go out and finish the patrol route together. She alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, hanging your legs off the table and reaching for your puffer.

“God, I fucking love that shirt,” said Dina. “Can I touch it? It looks so soft.”

You had a feeling that you would get on well with her. “Sure.”

“It’s not that soft,” said Ellie from the couch.

“Shut up, Ellie!” Dina walked over to you, grabbing the dangling fabric from your loose sleeves and letting it thread through her fingers. “Sorry about her, Y/N. She’s just like that sometimes.”

“Dina!”

Dina ignored Ellie’s protests, giving you a look full of mirth as she stepped back. “For the record, it was that soft.”

“You couldn’t wear it anywhere,” argued Ellie. “It looks ridiculous. Infected would just snag right onto the sleeves. That’s only if you didn’t get tangled up in a tree from all that loose fabric first.”

“There’s not an abundance of trees or sick fungus people in my research lab,” you said awkwardly. “So that’s not really something that crossed my mind when I got ready this morning.”

“Ha!” Dina’s eyes scrunched. “Ellie, be nice. Maybe she’ll claim us both as her long-lost sisters and get us into wherever she came from, but she’s not gonna if you keep acting like this.”

“It’s okay,” you said, shrugging. “I get it. I can’t even begin to imagine how much different your lives are out here. And, I mean, I probably could if you wanted. I’m pretty sure that all you need is a connection and a negative test for whatever the fungus is called.”

“See?” Dina gestured towards you. “Listen to her. She’s so wholesome.”

“I’d be wholesome too if I led the kind of life where I didn’t know about the infected and got to wear dumb shirts like that all day.”

Dina huffed. “Listen, Y/N, Ellie and I are gonna finish up with patrolling. I’m assuming you want to stay in Jackson until you figure everything out?”

You nodded. “If that’s alright. I don’t mean to impose.”

“We’ll talk to Maria and Tommy once we get back and see about getting you set up somewhere temporarily,” said Dina. “For now, you can just stay at Ellie’s until we finish up. Sound good?”

“Dina!” protested Ellie. “You’re just gonna leave her here unattended without even asking me?”

“What’s she gonna do? Ransack the town? With what weapon, Ellie? Her bare hands? She looks like she’d be blown over if I breathed too hard in her direction.”

You flushed. Sure, you’d never really seen much of a point of bulking up and working out when you were nothing but a student who spent all of her time goofing off with wires and telescopes, but it was humbling to have it pointed out so blatantly.

“She wouldn’t make it a day outside,” continued Dina. “I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try anything. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You blinked. “I mean, yeah. I’ve never spent a day without electricity and hot running water, so I’m not really clambering to leave and live in the woods.”

Ellie sighed sharply. “Fine. Cool. Whatever. Just stay where you are, okay? And don’t even think about touching anything.”

~

By the time that she returned with Joel, you were sitting at the table, 2 chapters deep into the one textbook you’d brought along with you for one of your courses.

“Glad to see the house still standing,” Joel quipped as he worked his heavy coat off his shoulders and pulled his boots off. Ellie trailed behind him, hanging up her coat and pulling off a pair of black gloves. “Ellie was concerned you’d raze the whole town.”

“I’m honored that she thinks me so capable,” you said in response, wincing as you had to dogear your textbook, your bookmarks and sticky notes tucked safely in your dorm desk far away.

Ellie sent you an irritated look before her gaze dropped to the textbook in your lap. It lingered for a moment, just long enough for you to know that she was reading the title Exoplanetary Systems.

“Tommy and Maria have decided to let you stay until you get back on your feet,” said Joel, oblivious to the hostility coming from Ellie. “There’s a cottage down the street that’ll be ready for you to move into soon. For now, you can stay with us. There’s an extra room across the hall from Ellie’s.”

“That’s too kind of you,” you said, your voice smooth and gracious after years of having your manners picked apart by your parents.  

Joel looked mildly uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah. Don’t mention it. You know how to ride a horse?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good,” said Joel. “Can you shoot, too?”

You stared. “Uh, shoot what?”

“A gun,” said Ellie slowly. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her mouth contorted into a scowl. She did not seem overjoyed at the prospect of a new housemate.

“No,” you said. Your ears felt like they were on fire. “There’s, uh, a strict ban on guns in Terr–where I grew up. There was no reason to shoot anything.”

Joel whistled. “Well, imagine that. So maybe we won’t put you on patrol just yet. We’ll find something else for you to do. Got any other skills?”

Before you answered, Joel picked up your bag and peered inside of it. “Say, is this a bag of coffee?”

He pulled out the bag of coffee grinds that you’d picked up at the cafe.

“Yeah!” you said. “Before the, uh, accident, my professor sent me to get him tea from the cafeteria. I ended up picking those up since my roommate and I were out. You drink coffee?”

“Not much anymore,” said Joel, picking up the bag and weighing it back and forth. “It’s hard to come by out here. You have to pay an arm and a leg to get just a bit. I haven’t seen a bag like this since before the outbreak.”

“It’s yours,” you said quickly. “I don’t even really like coffee. I just drank it because my roommate would make me a cup.”

Joel shook his head and placed it back in your bag. “No, I couldn’t do that. I’d probably have to trade my whole arsenal plus a horse to get something this big.”

“Please, I insist,” you said. “It’s the least I can do. It’s just going to sit in my bag anyway. You’d appreciate it more.”

“Well…” Joel gave you a considering look. “I s’pose this could cover your work for a few weeks until either we find another job for you or Ellie teaches you to shoot.”

“Joel!” Ellie interjected. “I have my own shit to do.”

“That’s really generous of you,” you said, smiling at Joel. “But you could honestly just take the bag—no need to offer any reimbursement.”

Joel grunted and picked the bag up again, slinging it onto the counter behind him. “Maria’s never gonna believe me until she sees this. Full bag of monsoon malabar…didn’t even think they had that shit anymore…” He continued to mumble to himself as he shuffled around, opening and closing cabinets behind you.

When you looked back up, Ellie was staring again at your book, a line in her brow.

“You can borrow it, if you’d like.” You pushed the book towards her as a poor attempt to call a truce between you two. “It’s not like I actually need to do the reading anymore. I’m already missing lecture.”

You winced at the thought of getting behind in your classes. In the very likely case you weren’t getting back in the next few days, you’d probably need to take a gap semester and return in the fall, delaying your graduation date another 4 months. Your parents were going to kill you. This was going to create an unfillable hole in your resume. “Shooting a gun” and “riding horses” were not acceptable activities to explain away why you took a whole season off.

“No thanks,” said Ellie, pushing it back to you. “Keep it. I don’t want it.”

“It’s about solar systems outside of our locale,” you continued. “There’s a bunch of them. It’s actually really interesting.”

“It doesn’t really sound like it,” she said, but there was no venom behind her voice—just something that sounded like exhaustion.  

“Maybe not.” You sighed, deflated. So much for a white flag. “I guess it must seem pretty ridiculous to you.”

Ellie stood there, her arms still crossed and her frown deep. “Joel,” she said, speaking over your shoulder, “I’m going out. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” said Joel. You could hear him bustling around in what you assumed was a kitchen, filling a kettle with water and lighting the gas top stove.

When you turned back around, Ellie was already out the door, coat slung over her arm as she shut it.

Before the door closed entirely, her eyes snapped up to meet yours like she knew you’d been watching her.

She was gone before you had the chance to lift your hand to wave goodbye.

again apologies for this if you’ve made it this far. please confiscate my laptop. part 2 coming soon (?) if u want also im not an astrophysics student im a thickheaded cs student who barely survived ap physics so im sorry if i’m doing a disservice to the academic field of astronomy idk shit about it 

[ranticore]

colony culture is obviously really variable as cultures are but in the main character colony, their practices are strongly influenced by the characteristics of the adult dragon who's been living in the cave for a century. the dragon is large enough that it poses a threat to all else around it - you'd hardly move aside for a line of ants if they happened to be under your boot, and the dragon feels the same for the kobolds. as such the colony has had to construct additional defences to separate themselves from the grand chamber in which the dragon lives. There is a set of massive iron and steel doors, constructed from the leftover armour and weapons of would-be dragon slayers, and beyond these doors are the main warrens, a series of tunnels which make up the residential district. But these tunnels are finite and do not expand, made of very hard stone, so the colony also has a two-tier class structure wherein everyone whose ancestor managed to get a spot in the warrens gets to enjoy safety and security behind the iron doors, while a good half of the population lives in the grand cavern, at the mercy of the dragon and whatever else lives within the caves. having invented classism they proceeded to retroactively invent reasons why someone should deserve to live outside the doors; the crimes of their ancestors, their generally poor character, their unhygienic and scavenging lifestyle. People don't like to think it was random chance that separates them from the people outside the doors.

(cut for length)

There's no fire inside the caves. Ventilation is already poor, and reliant on the ice-caps of the mountain range remaining frozen (i.e those air holes would flood if the glaciers melted). Smoke and fire are dangerous, as are midden heaps, large rotting corpses, or anything else that might produce an excess of unbreathable air. The warrens especially forbid fire, relying solely on proximity to the dragon for warmth, and bioluminescent cave fauna for light. Food is uncooked or served frozen, mainly consisting of blind fish and other aquatic subterranean animals.

The concept of time is rudimentary. There's no night or day, no minute or hour. It's very difficult to convey how long ago something happened without linking it to a notable event that happened at the same time.

Outside the warrens, scavengers follow the dragon's lead - what's yours is mine. Theft is 100% acceptable so long as you're not physically taking an item out of someone's hands while they're using it. To keep a hold on precious belongings, scavengers hoard their things in remote corners of the cave system, far from society. If a hoard is found, it's fair game. But finding it is the challenge. It's accepted that everyone probably has a secret stash somewhere. The stashes usually contain items taken for their aesthetic value from dead dragonhunters, alongside curiosities from the cave itself; strange bones, crystals, mummified animals. A hoard is shared between partners, so collecting nice things is also an act of devotion and commitment.

Scavengers are broken up into broad groupings based on skill. They might work as hunters, fishers, explorers, or navigators, given their advanced knowledge of the cave system granted by having to find a good hoard spot. But they can also be outrunners, the only group of kobolds who regularly leave the cave. Outrunners are the ones bringing back evidence of plants, animals, and concepts from the outside. They may post sentries to warn of an impending dragon hunt, or sneak down to nearby human settlements to steal livestock.

The highest ranking group of scavengers, more important than any other, is the dragoneer group. They are chosen purely based on colour. If you are any variation of black and red, you can be a dragoneer. This is because the dragon's scales are black and red, and a suitably coloured dragoneer can blend in while scavenging on its body. They take scales to be used as blades and shields, shed spines for weapons, and harvest blood from the dragon by farming ticks and lice. Dragon blood is a vitally important nutrient source for the kobolds, usually consumed watered down. In concentrated form it is consumed for ritualistic purposes, the 'quickening agent' used by the mother of matriarchs to imbue her offspring with the ability to commune and share dreams with the dragon. Realistically, the high levels of heavy metals make the concentrated blood unsafe for a pregnant person to drink.

[nelapanela94]

Climbing over the knee-high lip of the tub is a challenge like climbing the highest mountain. Once, his body was his greatest and most loyal ally, and now he feels incarcerated under his every inch and every fiber.

“I’ll help you.” You lean against the sink, fiddling with your thumbs, wondering where to start. You’ve never bathed someone before. A gulp contracts and relaxes your throat.

“I don’t need your help,” he bellows, staring down at the waving water and the foam that swims and pops. He waits for you to leave, so he can strip his clothes. You can’t see him like this, a fraction of what he used to be. But stubbornness is a shared trait.

Levi sighs; shoulders slump.

You swaddle his leg in plastic bags, rubber bands and tape. Then set a stool in the tub. Avert your eyes as his clothes pool at his feet and with one eye anchored to the ceiling and the other trying to follow your movements, you help him into the tub and set him down on the stool. Lathered up his silky hair and shoulders. The armpits, the hip bones, his belly button. Strange parts you’d last seen that night when you’d boozed up and ended up in his bed. Two lonely souls seeking sad consolation. Tears melt in the water, stinging the angry scars on his face. Your hands burn his skin. He looks away because he is afraid of stumbling on your pity. A garbled sob breaks from him. Your chest beaten up against an anvil.

He can’t remember the last time someone took care of him with such daintiness. It smelled of sewage and stale food.

“You know you don’t have to do this.” His voice muffles in the back of his hand.

“I want to do this.” You rinse the foam from his shoulders and back. “Let someone take care of you, Levi. You should not always be the one to stand in the front line."

He closes his eyes; your hands are soft on his marred skin. Deep inside, he wants you to stay. You kneel behind him and towel-dry his hair, his shoulders. Plant a kiss on a scar on his nape. He’s beautiful, despite what he sees in the mirror. Despite kids crimpling their faces when they look at him. The calcium in the collarbones you’ve kissed; the iron in the blood that flushed his cheeks. Walking cosmos, debris of an explosion.

[murmel-malt]

Hedaera Targaryen - 97 AC

Viserys Targaryen x Hedaera Targaryen (OFC) prev / next wordcount: <1k summery: my answer to the question: what if Viserys and Daemon had a little sister? canon divergent dance of the dragons au featuring canon and original characters.

chapter summery: Four years after her own wedding, Hedaera attends her cousin Aemma’s wedding to her brother Daemon and ruminates on what has happened since she married Viserys.

A/N: note that english is not my first language so there will probably be some grammar mistakes.

97 AC - Kingslanding

Daemon and Aemma’s wedding is nearly as grand as her Viserys’ had been. Once again the great hall is filled to the brim with decorations and guests and music and conversation, and the long table for the royal family at the foot of the Iron Throne to preside over the masses. The tables are laden with the finest food and Aemma is decked out in white and light blue and the silver circlet holding her veil in place, is matching the one on Daemon’s head. She looks happy Daera thinks; a far happier bride than she had been four years ago.

They are older now; Aemma being five and ten and Daera three and ten. She doesn’t feel very different, but everyone is telling her that she is now almost a woman, grown and ready to fulfill her wifely duties. She has yet to be pushed into the marriage bed, despite having flowered and plans to avoid it for as long as possible. Which probably isn’t for that much longer. The King is getting impatient, according to her Lord Father. But they will have to force her if they want her to share Viserys’ bed. There’s not a bone left in her that wishes to please any of her grandparents or father anymore. Instead they should be pleased that she has not run off or thrown herself from some tower. She has thought about it on occasion. Both about running away and throwing herself from the highest tower of the Red Keep. About the latter only in her darkest moments though and only twice.

The Queen and her Lord Father seem to have finally understood the consequences of their actions. No longer is Daera referring to them as Grandmother or Father, Alysanne is ‘her Grace, the Queen’ and she had flinched as if struck the first time Daera had addressed her this way. Her Father simply is ‘Prince Baelon’ and there is always a distance between them now, physically and emotionally. Everytime Daera looks into their eyes and sees the pain her behavior inflicts on them all she can think is: “Good. I hope this hurts you as much as you have hurt me.” She no longer feels guilt over these thoughts. It was them that hurt her first, now they simply reap the fruits of their hard labor. 

The King is the only one who doesn’t care and Hedaera now thinks that he never cared to begin with. Not about her or about any of his daughters. She barely knows any of them but she has heard stories about them. How Viserra had been so desperate to avoid being sent North that she had tried to seduce Hedaera’s father. Baelon hadn’t helped her either. He had stood by his father’s decision, a loyal son to King Jaehaerys at the expense of his sister.

Viserys will be different when he is King, Hedaera decides. For one, she cannot imagine him ever being as scary as Jaehaerys; the thought is so ridiculous it nearly makes her laugh. Her brother just doesn’t have that air about him. Not now and not ever, she is afraid. Daemon even at four years younger can be scarier than Viserys; and Rhaenys, too. It is a very unfortunate thing that only the future king does not. Perhaps she as his Queen will have to make up for it. She puts the thought aside. She will not let her brother’s shortcomings ruin her mood. 

From her seat beside Viserys she gazes across the hall instead, making note of the attendants and testing herself if she can remember all the names belonging to the faces and sigils on display. Many of the guests are Vale Lords, which is not a surprise given Aemma’s father Rodrick was Lord Paramount of the Vale. She imagines his recent death is still weighing on her cousin but the celebrations seem to have lifted her spirit. Not even Daemon seems able to dampen it, and apparently he hasn’t even tried. On the contrary, he looks almost happy, if Daera is to judge. 

He has generally been more agreeable ever since he had claimed Caraxes last year. He is the only one of them that has a dragon now after Balerion’s death only a year after Viserys had claimed him. Some had taken it as a bad omen and that Viserys might turn out to be a bad king or something ridiculous like that. The dragon had been old, simple as that; and eventually even dragons died. It was only a matter of time. And honestly, Hedaera doesn’t need the death of a dragon to know that Viserys might not be a good king, she simply knows her brother.

Daera hadn’t even been allowed to try to claim a dragon. Four years ago they had told her that she was too young, now they pretended that as the future Queen and mother it was too dangerous for her. It was a weak excuse but she had no power to argue or contest it. Another reminded how powerless she was. Viserys of all people had comforted her, telling her that not having a dragon wasn’t so terrible and that perhaps it simply wasn’t her time yet. It had been a nice gesture and had actually helped a little bit but it still stung whenever Daemon talked about Caraxes.

It made her feel less than and that was infuriating because she knew she wasn’t. She was a Targaryen, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and if she did not get to have a dragon, well, then she would have to become the dragon.

a/n: this is a short one. sorry people.

[sarahjtv]

My Hero Academia Chapter 426 Spoiler Talk: The Hellish Todoroki Family Conclusion

Whew, what a chapter goddamn. The Todoroki Family, especially Shoto (my favorite character 🩵), is one of my favorite and one of the best arcs in My Hero Academia. We all knew that their conclusion was coming this chapter and now that we're here, let's talk about it:

First off, in case you didn't hear, Weekly Shonen Jump and MHA mangaka, Kohei Horikoshi himself, confirmed that this is the first of the last 5 chapters of My Hero Academia. The series will end in early August with 430 chapters total if all goes well. I made a post about this when it was announced 2 days ago, but I want to briefly say that I am going to miss this series so much. It has had such an amazing impact on my life and surely saved me during many rough times. I will be so sad to see it end, but happy to see Horikoshi finish his beloved story on his own terms after 10 long years of publication. I will make sure to see it through myself.

We start off the chapter with a Todoroki Family reunion. We see the whole family about a month after the war ended. Everyone has burn scars of some kind now with Rei's having the largest that even covers the left side of her face like Shoto's and Endeavor's do ironically enough (I see what you did, Horikoshi). We don't see if Endeavor got any burn scars on his face because it's covered with bandages, but given he has the highest fire resistance next to Shoto, I doubt it.

Also, pretty much everyone got a haircut from their bodies getting torched trying to stop Touya (I'm going to call him that from here on). Fuyumi and Endeavor got a few inches off, Natsuo cut quite a bit off to the point where he's looking like his father again (oh, the irony), and Rei got a significant portion cut off to the point where it's back to the length it was when she and Enji first met. I think Shoto got a slight trim, but it's hard to tell. His hair is definitely scruffier than it was before, though. Honestly looks-wise, they all still look really good. Those Todoroki/Himura genes are doing good work.

But, despite those good looks, everyone is here to see Touya in his own operating tube (?). The doctor says that Touya's slowly dying and Endeavor tells everyone that he's retiring. Both things are what everyone saw coming. There was no way Endeavor was going back to hero work after everything that happened to him during the final war. It was just never possible. Even with prosthetics, I think his own mental state and where he is in life with his family would have prevented that from happening. I'm surprised that Touya is alive at all, but I'm glad to see that he's alive to see his family for a little longer before he eventually dies which I assume may happen in the final chapter of the series.

Also, Touya can still talk! Bro still can't move for shit, but he's conscious enough to talk to his family. He still hates his father and I get it. I don't think there was any way Touya was going to forgive his father after everything that happened. It's good to see that Endeavor still is trying to atone and wants to talk with Touya as much as he possibly can to his eldest son, but that won't change anything right now. The least Endeavor can do is listen to what Touya might want to say.

Fuyumi and Rei try to talk to Touya too, but the doctor is telling them that talking more would be a burden on Touya's heart. And then Shoto asks his oldest brother "What's your favorite food?" and Touya responds "Soba..." just like Shoto. I can't do this tonight, guys! I'm screaming, crying, throwing up! WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN! THEY COULD HAVE EATEN SOBA TOGETHER IN ANOTHER LIFE!!! HOW DARE YOU, HORIKOSHI! I'M IN YOUR WALLS 😭

And right as his family leaves his room, Touya slowly cries tears and says "Shoto... I'm sorry..." I don't need to explain this one. This fucking hurts. Touya has regrets, but it's too late. Touya may be Dabi the murderous villain who ruined a lot of lives, but he's also still a young man who deserved a better life than what was handed to him and does still care for his family even if only a little. All around a tragic character. If this is the last we see of Touya, I think it's a good albeit sad send-off.

As the Todorokis start to part ways, we get an idea of where their lives are going now:

1. Natsuo wants to start a family with his girlfriend (isn’t he only 20 btw and he started dating her like, what, a year ago? I get it, Natsuo, but this is too early don’t you think? 😭) but has no intention of having a ceremony for it specifically because he doesn't want her or himself to ever see Enji again. I don't blame him for this. Even though he helped stop Touya from literally exploding which did save his father, Natsuo made it clear from the start that he was never going to forgive Enji no matter how much he atoned. The reason why he was even born was because Enji wanted a perfect Ice/Fire child, but he didn't get that until Shoto was born afterwards. Natsuo saw Enji hurt and abuse his family for pretty much his entire life and Enji suddenly wanting to fix what he broke wasn't going to change Natsuo's mind on what he thought of his father. Cutting ties with his father is for the best. It's a miracle the rest of his family still want to see Enji at all, especially Shoto.

2. Fuyumi has also quit her teaching job, but a mother of one of her students found another one. This is also understandable. The public slander of her family on her is what probably pushed this and I'm sure her good reputation got inadvertently damaged from it. I hope she is treated better at her new job.

3. Enji is going got continue to pay for his crimes for the rest of his life whatever that takes. He even understands if the rest of his kids never want to see him again either. He will still do everything he can to make sure his kids are unharmed by the whole Dabi thing. He even accepts that he's going to dance with Touya in Hell one day. Honestly, regardless of what you think of Endeavor, I honestly think his atonement/development arc is one of the best in the series. He has definitely become a better man than what he started out as when we first met him during the Sports Festival Arc, but what I love about this is that Horikoshi never let him off the hook. He made Enji face his sins head-on and suffer through every consequence that came from his abusive actions. If Enji Todoroki is going to atone, he's going to atone the very, very hard way. Enji may be a better man and father, but that doesn't mean he's going to see the pearly gates when all is said and done. The best he can do is pay for his sins for the rest of his life and pray that Rei, Fuyumi, and Shoto don't leave him completely too.

4. And finally, there's my favorite, Shoto 🩵! He's going back to school and reassures his parents that he will be fine with his friends as they help him become who he wants to be. This essentially concludes Shoto's arc as well. When we first met him, he was a cold, anti-social teen who didn't want to make any friends. All he wanted to do was to become a hero with his ice alone to spite his father. Since then, he's opened up to his classmates, made amazing friends especially in Izuku, Iida, and Bakugo, rekindled his relationship with his mother and siblings, come to terms with his father and Touya, and finally accepted his Ice/Fire powers as his own. He says he's on the path to becoming the hero he wants to be, but I'd argue that he's already there. Again, it's an incredible development for Shoto and I think this is a great conclusion to his own character arc.

After Shoto leaves, we transition to Hawks! He's still there for Endeavor if he needs him which is nice. He's also the president of the Public Safety Commission! Dude may be Quirkless, but that doesn't mean he can't do anything! I'm happy to see him thrive in this new role of his and I hope he can reform the PSC into something good as opposed to how they treated him in the past.

We also catch up on Lady Nagant WHO IS NOT DEAD 🎊, but chooses to stay in prison for a bit longer. And Gentle and LaBrava are ok and free too! Good endings here!

The final panel shows Spinner and someone is opening his hospital door 🤔

Phenomenal chapter! 10/10 would read and cry over again. Thank you and fuck you for everything, Kohei Horikoshi. 4 Chapters left. Fuck, my hands hurt 😭

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Gravity Falls Headcanon: Feral Ford

Okay, so...I like this idea because there is some sense to it.

Ford had been traversing different dimensions for 30 years. I have very little doubt that he has picked up at least a few odd quirks depending how long he spent in a specific dimension.

One that I did have in mind was that he pretty much gained an iron stomach of sorts, or is unbothered to eat strange looking foods, what with him likely eating strange (otherworldly) foods in order to survive.

The main quirk I want to talk about is him gaining some animalistic behavior along the way. Regardless of what you believe in (coming from a non-denominational Christian), humans are animals. What separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom is our higher mental capacity and emotional intelligence.

Despite this, humans are capable of delving into a primitive mindset if given the right circumstances and there are alleged cases of this, usually in the form of feral children, but I digress.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

And Ford did what he had to do to survive. Seriously, what was his first year in the multiverse like? When he got sucked in, he was on the verge of insanity and likely suffered from sleep deprivation due to Bill's influence. What was the first dimension like and how did he survive it?

Regardless for now, what if Ford spent a long time on a planet lacking lifeforms of emotional intelligence, which resulted in him adopting behaviors from the animals on that planet. Not only that, but most of his senses are heightened to help him survive, maybe even garnering a sixth sense of sorts, mostly that of sensing danger seconds before it happens.

Once he is able to leave this planet, he slowly, but surely, regains most of his composure, but those instincts still remain and once he returns to his home dimension, those instincts are both a fascination to behold but also a worrisome perk depending on the situation.

He purrs when content/relaxed enough or having a peaceful sleep...the latter which is unfortunately not very common for the poor man (damn you, Bill). He can't handle a lot of smells and can actually pick up the smell of blood due to those heightened senses.

Possible PTSD aside, Ford usually has a handle on his more animalistic instincts. But all rational thought can be thrown out the window when he feels that he and/or his family was threatened to the highest he could handle. He'll sneer, snarl and growl, bare his teeth, and poise himself to either attack (either with a weapon or his own hands) or protect his family.

Like a wolf protecting his pups. His pack.

He's not exactly proud of this, finding it shameful for him to act in such a way in a civilized world, even though it was a means of survival and the others don't hold it against him.

Mabel especially loves his purring, finding it relaxing, and Dipper is fascinated by his heightened senses.

I have read multiple fics of Feral Ford on AO3 and they are a nice read. I'll make link posts to them when I have the time.

[nobibiname]

Elain’s Soft Power🌸/ ✨different strength✨ and the Cauldron bond

I’ve said this elsewhere but wanted to have a complete post to drive this point home, HOFAS spoilers, you’ve been warned.

Back in CC1&2 we learned that thanks to the Asteri, there’s a lot of obsession about “breeding”, esp among the Fae, on Midgard. And then we learned why: to create the strongest food source for them.

Now in HOFAS, enter Bryce in Prythian, we find out these same Asteri corrupted the cauldron .

So at this point honestly, yeah I was surprised that the majority of the fandom didn’t call out the mating bonds in prythian, and start looking at them more critically. What is the meaning of a mating bond from a corrupted cauldron? What will be the ultimate point of them?

Remember when in ACOMAF Feyre asks Rhys “why not make them mates?” One of the things he says is “… probably to produce the strongest offspring” (paraphrasing)

Strongest for what? the point of the Cauldron mating bonds is breeding, the strongest food for the Asteri. That’s it.

The mating bond is not what the Fae believe it to be. It may have been sacred at some point, but now it’s just the outcome of a magical calculation resulting in highest calories for intergalactic parasites.

I think for this reason it was really important (thematically at least) for Feysand and Nessian to fall in love first. They just “happen” to also have a mating bond. If their relationships mainly hinge on the bond, the romance is diluted. And we have plenty of examples of failed relationships of mates, (Rhys’ parents, Tamlin’s parents). I also want to acknowledge that the Mother’s power is also still there to some extent (we see that when Nesta gives up her powers and gets to keep a bit from a “gentle hand”) , and could have guided those bonds, but it doesn’t change the fact that the main point of the cauldron now is still food for the Asteri.

Lastly this also shows courage in rejecting a Cauldron bond, it’s actually an act of defiance. Asserting your will over your own fate, a “fuck you” to the Asteri and their corrupted manipulation of a sacred object and institution of Fae culture.

And I wonder is this the “different strength” that Elain will exhibit? Rejecting her cauldron bond. I think we’ll find out exactly why she hasn’t yet, and I actually think whatever the reason, that takes strength too. She’s stuck between a lot of willful minds and stubborn powers. Sticking to her guns is probably not easy. But also is this a strength that maybe Feyre and Nesta don’t have? I’m definitely speculating here, but maybe resisting the cauldron’s will like this could be something beyond them?

Elain is heavily foreshadowed to be a Gardner of magic of sorts; cultivating and growing with her magic, rather than fighting. So maybe rather than yielding to the cauldron’s will for her, she might assert her will on the corrupted cauldron and heal it? The ivy around the gates of her mind growing so strong around the iron to be able to crush the iron itself….

It would be in line with both how she’s foreshadowed, and how Feyre sees her. She will still be the gentle dreamer, but strong in her soft power.

I might never have been the biggest fan of the mating bond, (though I acknowledge it’s a staple of the genre) but given what we now canonically know about the history of Prythian, I urge the fandom to view “who you want to be mates” through a different lens. Bc that word truly no longer means what we thought it meant.

[whumped-by-glitter]

A Quick View of Tallis' Banding System

⚠️CW: Institutionalized Slavery

Just a bit of lore dump since I've gotten a few questions about it.

Here are 3 different classes of slave bands. These are differentiated by different metals. They indicate what the slave is trained for is also (usually) an indication of their master's social class. Slaves are also sometimes referred to “[type] band”.

Gold bands:

the highest “rank” of slave. They are owned by the royal family. They are split into 2 categories- Palace and Personal slaves. Both categories can be used for entertainment, though it’s more common for personal slaves.

Personal slaves are owned by a specific member of the royal family and tend to their every need. They also perform bodyguard duties if necessary. They are distinguished by a jewel embedded on the bale of the O ring on their collar. Their uniform includes a corset vest with solid boning in the back and front. This restricts their movements and provides an extra layer of safety to the royal they serve. It is essentially a cage hidden behind fancy fabric. Personal slaves, sometimes called gem slaves, do have a small amount of authority over other slaves. They are usually the most highly trained/ specifically skilled.

The palace slaves do not have a specific master and instead answer to a servant overseer. They help in the kitchens as well as laundry, housekeeping, and working the stables, among many other important jobs, such as repairs and groundskeeping. They keep the palace functional and running smoothly.

Silver bands:

They are slaves owned by nobles. Silver bands are used for housekeeping, childcare, food service, and protection. However, usually they are just used for entertainment. They are often the least educated of the 3 classes and the most mistreated. The nobles usually see them as disposable and easily replaced.

Brass bands:

The final class of slaves are the brass bands, sometimes called drudge slaves. Owned by commoners, they are the heartbeat of Tallis. Without them the kingdom’s economy would collapse. Ironically, they are generally treated the best out of the three classes. They are usually given days off, and often have their own living quarters. Sometimes entire villages must pool their resources to buy them, so they are rarely mistreated since they can’t be easily replaced. Their masters often get to know them and care about them. They are usually educated in the most basic reading, writing, and math, if at all.

Potential jobs include (but not limited to)-

Miller

Farm hand

Running the shop when their master is away.

Childcare

Laundry

Stable keep

Construction

And many other jobs requiring heavy lifting or are tedious or time consuming.

@whumpsandbumps, @whumperofworlds, @skittles-the-whumpee, @3-2-whump, @wounds-seen-and-unseen

@generic-whumperz, @emptycalories-splitlip, @pigeonwhumps, @i-eat-worlds, @starfields08000

@onlywhump, @snakebites-and-ink, @aloafofbreadwithanxiety, @turvuren, @whumps-and-bumps

@paingoes, @spectral-whumpy-writer, @vampiresprite, @whumping-in-the-dark

I am also creating an 18+ blog to include spicier scenes and content. It'll be the same story, just with add parts. please let me know if you want to be added to that taglist instead or as well.

[atopvisenyashill]

Harrenhal will be the new seat of what’s left of the Seven Kingdoms at the ending.

I know a few people have already said bits and pieces of this but I wanted to get everything in one post for my own sanity lmao. There’s three kind of main branches to this theory: geographical reasons, historical reasons, and reasons specific to King Bran theories.

Geography surrounding Harrenhal

It’s the center of everything! Let me show you on the map because i’m a visual learner:

Ignore the North and Dorne and probably the Iron Islands too, bc the first two are not gonna be part of The Seven Kingdoms anymore and the Iron Islands is…gonna be a fucking mess lmao. Lemme zoom in:

It’s a very centralized point in the Riverlands but it’s also fairly centralized to the Crownlands (which will probably get absorbed into the others), the Stormlands, the Eyrie, the Reach, and the Westerlands. It makes sense, from a geographical standpoint, that if the lords need to choose a new ruling seat - and they will no matter what, because King’s Landing is gonna go boom - that a more centralized location for easier access to the capital would be their decision.

The Riverlands is also an excellent choice in general because geographically, they are always getting screwed due to being right in the middle of everyone. They get fucked during the Dance, the Blackfyre Rebellions, Robert’s Rebellion, AND the War of the Five Kings. The only area that really gets screwed over more during the various wars is probably the Dornish Marches, because of the conflicts between the stony Dornishmen and the Storm and Reacher Lords but you can’t really set up there because it’s too far from the Eyrie and Riverlands.

And the thing about the Riverlands is that part of why it gets fucked up is that it’s right in the middle of everything and has no natural defenses. The Eyrie has the mountains, the North has their snow, the Dornish has their desert. The Reach manages to stay out of a lot of fighting because that’s where the food is (although the Iron Islands are about to screw them, but that’s because the war has spiraled out of control) and while both the Stormlands and the Westerlands have seen big battles, they have some protection in their coasts, which gives them ships that the Riverlands just can’t quite access. Having the King set up in the Riverlands gives the smallfolk of the Riverlands some much needed protection and potentially, a break from all the fighting.

So the Riverlands is a good place to set up shop, but Harrenhal specifically? Well, that’s because it’s huge:

Every child of the Trident knew the tales told of Harrenhal, the vast fortress that King Harren the Black had raised beside the waters of Gods Eye three hundred years past, when the Seven Kingdoms had been seven kingdoms, and the riverlands were ruled by the ironmen from the islands. In his pride, Harren had desired the highest hall and tallest towers in all Westeros. Forty years it had taken, rising like a great shadow on the shore of the lake while Harren's armies plundered his neighbors for stone, lumber, gold, and workers. Thousands of captives died in his quarries, chained to his sledges, or laboring on his five colossal towers. Men froze by winter and sweltered in summer. Weirwoods that had stood three thousand years were cut down for beams and rafters. Harren had beggared the riverlands and the Iron Islands alike to ornament his dream. And when at last Harrenhal stood complete, on the very day King Harren took up residence, Aegon the Conqueror had come ashore at King's Landing.

If it’s going to be the capital, it has to be somewhere that can hold a whole lot of people and Harrenhal is ginormous and perfect for holding lots of people. It’s even happened before; part of why Lord Whent stages his big tourney where Lyanna is crowned queen of love and beauty is because likely because Ser Oswell Whent, his brother on the Kingsguard, asked him to stage an excuse to get all the Lords together so Rhaegar could discuss with them what to do about his father and Harrenhal is the biggest castle they can do that in outside of King’s Landing. From The Kingbreaker chapter:

Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent's tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together.

It’s also built up to be sturdier than King’s Landing. Whereas King’s Landing was kind of haphazardly thrown together as it built up over the years, Harren the Black had always meant for a lot of people to be housed there. We see how many people can live in it during Arya’s chapters as she runs around inside of it and Harrentown and this is with a ruler who has no interest in keeping a lot of people in it. With a King or Queen living there, it opens itself up to growing in a much more easily defensible way than King’s Landing.

Historical Reasons Harrenhal is Significant

As you can see on the map, it’s built right on the edge of a very important place: The Isle of Faces and the lake that surrounds it, called the Gods Eye.

It’s a key place for the history of Westeros because it’s where the First Men and the Children of the Forest made peace:

Inexorably, the war ground on across generations, until at last the children understood that they could not win. The First Men, perhaps tired of war, also wished to see an end to the fighting. The wisest of both races prevailed, and the chief heroes and rulers of both sides met upon the isle in the Gods Eye to form the Pact…

It’s also notable for being the only place the Andals never managed to conquer:

It is possible that a few [Children of the Forest] survived on the Isle of Faces, as some have written, under the protection of the green men, whom the Andals never succeeded in destroying.

It’s a place associated with peace and negotiations between people, a place to stand strong against war and untouched by its horrors. A monument to what could be, if you will. And Harrenhal sits on its shore; it would add a very rich layer to setting up King’s Landing in a place associated with peace. And this isn’t the only time a succession crisis of sorts is settled there. The Great Council of 101 AC was held there.

To resolve the matter of his heir once and for all, Jaehaerys called the first Great Council in the year 101 AC, to put the matter before the lords of the realm. And from all corners of the realm the lords came. No castle could hold so many save for Harrenhal, so it was there that they gathered. The lords, great and small, came with their trains of bannermen, knights, squires, grooms, and servants. And behind them came yet more—the camp followers and washerwomen, the hawkers and smiths and carters. Thousands of tents sprang up over the moons, until the castle town of Harrenton was accounted the fourth largest city of the Realm.

Once again, we have Harrenhal associated with peace and negotiation in its history. However, that’s not all it’s associated with; there are several very significant battles that take place near the Gods Eye - again, it is in the middle of everything. It’s a place with lots of history and lots of ties to everyone in Westeros. There’s the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye between Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned, The Battle of the Lake Shore and The Battle Over the Gods Eye during the Dance, as well as the story of Addam Velaryon landing Seasmoke on the Isle of Faces to take counsel from the green men after being accused of treason. It is, all in all, a very significant place in Westeros.

But that’s not the only reason Harrenhal is talked about. Basically every single time Harrenhal is brought up, someone will mention that it’s haunted. This belief comes because of Aegon the Conquerer and Harren the Black. While Orys Baratheon and Rhaenys march for the Stormlands & Daemon Velaryon and Visenya left for the Vale, Aegon himself first turns towards Harren the Black and the Riverlands. All three face opposition but Aegon conquers the Riverlands first because Harren is so ill loved:

So now the riverlands rose against him, led by Lord Edmyn Tully of Riverrun. Summoned to the defense of Harrenhal, Tully declared for House Targaryen instead, raised the dragon banner over his castle, and rode forth with his knights and archers to join his strength to Aegon’s. His defiance gave heart to the other riverlords. One by one, the lords of the Trident renounced Harren and declared for Aegon the Dragon. Blackwoods, Mallisters, Vances, Brackens, Pipers, Freys, Strongs … summoning their levies, they descended on Harrenhal.

And he makes very quick work of Harrenhal, making it the first Kingdom to become part of the Seven Kingdoms:

The riverlords outside the castle walls said later that the towers of Harrenhal glowed red against the night, like five great candles … and like candles, they began to twist and melt, as runnels of molten stone ran down their sides.

Ever since the burning of Harrenhal, no House has been able to hold it without going extinct soon after. For House Targaryen’s rule in Westeros to start with Harren the Black’s hubris and the fall of Harrenhal, and end with Harrenhal becoming the new seat of the King of the Four (??) Kingdoms is a really neat connection.

Reasons Why It Works With King Bran

But wait! you say. Didn’t you just say that Harrenhal is cursed??

Why yes I did. HOWEVER. There is one family that the Curse of Harrenhal supposedly never touched: The Whents.

You see, from Harren the Black up until the Whents, every other House in charge of it has gone extinct.

House Hoare? That’s Harren’s house and we all know what happened there - they don’t call him Balerion the Black Dread for no reason.

House Qoherys? Dead less than three decades later.

House Harroway? Wiped out a decade later.

House Towers? died out within two decades, ending with sickly Maegor Towers and then old and tired Rhaena Targaryen, until the two odd friends died and the holdings were free again.

House Strong? Well…between the fire that kills Harwin and Lyonel, Larys’ shenanigans getting him merced by Cregan, and Aemond just straight committing a minor genocide in the Riverlands, they all died out (except maybe Alys Rivers’ baby but we don’t have any info there).

House Lothston? Interestingly, they hold the castle for several decades, but they too went completely extinct under King Maekar.

So we come to House Whent. They’ve held it for about 6 ish decades and though they’ve also had some bad luck, they’ve had their people grow old - Walter Whent who threw the tourney is called “Old Lord Whent” by Barristan, and Shella Whent is old when she dies. But the most interesting thing is Minisa Whent.

We don’t know a lot about the Whent line, only that Shella refused to bend the knee to Joffrey, fled Harrenhal when it was attacked, and later died. You could say the curse still got them but in every other case, the whole line dies, not just the main line! Even Janos Slynt has no descendants and Littlefinger will have none to inherit either. But the Whents do: they have House Tully. Minisa Whent married Hoster Tully and had Catelyn and Edmure. The Whents are known for their sharp cheekbones and both Catelyn and Sansa, funny enough, are described as having sharp cheekbones. This very close relation could mean that the Starklings have a claim to Harrenhal through their mother.

This fits with King Bran because we know the lords are perfectly fine fudging things and going through the female line if it fits their needs. They did the same thing with Robert and his grandmother Rhaelle Targaryen, who married Ormund Targaryen, Steffon’s mother. Renly says here:

Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it.

The maesters love a loophole inheritance.

And remember that the odds of surviving the books for the Baratheons and Targaryens is very, very low. It’s pretty much just bastards all the way down (on both sides lmao, because I do not think either Young Griff or Dany are gonna survive). And whenever the inheritance isn’t clear, a Great Council is called. Catelyn even suggested it while parlying with the Baratheons:

Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them.

Mentioning Bran, of course. A lot of people think it’s far fetched and while I do think him being so young is gonna be a hard sell now that the time jump is gone, I don’t think it’s that far fetched that the lords of the Stormlands, The Reach, the Eyrie, and The Westerlands would be convinced to choose Hoster Tully’s grandson and Ned Stark’s baby boy to rule over them.

And finally, Robb wasn’t called “Robb Stark, King in the North” he was also explicitly called “King of the Trident.” All the talk about who is Robb’s heir but look at how they all think of themselves - “as brave as Robb” “as strong as Robb” or they’ll have sons and name them Robb. Whereas Who Rules The North is all tied up in Robb’s legacy, the Iron Throne isn’t! If King Bran rules from the Riverlands, however, it gives Bran that tie to Robb; he gets to protect and rule from the lands Robb swore to protect, the lands he ultimately fought and died in. For Bran, he still gets to be Robb’s heir, at least in spirit, and I think that would be, to Bran, something very bittersweet.

[turbulentscrawl]

If I may ask, may you do general headcanons for emil, if not then just ignore this💜

Suuuuure can!

!Edited on 01/26/24 to add a few more small HCs!

Warning: Mentions of abuse (a lot)

-Emil’s health situation is as complicated as it is depressing. He suffers from chronic pain that’s a result of the years of abuse he’s endured—both in the dog fighting ring and in the asylum. Ironically, he’s got some of the highest pain tolerance out of all the survivors, but it’s difficult to tell when he’s I the middle of his worst days. (This pain tolerance is all psychological, however. A little something he developed as a defense mechanism.)

-Pain medicine does little for him now. He was on such high doses of opioids while in the middle of his shock and bloodletting treatments that they don’t help much anymore while also having dealt him some lasting issues like low blood pressure and brittle bones. This bone weakness, his parkour movements, and lowered sensitivity to pain mean he tends to suffer more severe injuries in matches than most.

-Emil’s communication skills have improved over the last few years, but he still struggles with writing and social cues. He’s used to the body language of dogs and angry men, so things like confident shoulders and direct eye contact make him nervous. If those behaviors are displayed towards Ada or another special person, he may become aggressive.

-In addition to his communication struggles, Emil’s emotions are also rather stunted; he often has disproportionate reactions to events and stimulus around himself. (He especially tends to under-react.) It’s very rare for Emil to cry or become genuinely angered. He spends most of his time with that pitiful, placating, resting smile and just letting the world whirl around him.

-Emil’s attachment to Ada mostly comes down to hers being the first truly kind hand he’s ever been offered. Despite any dubious motives, Ada does genuinely care about helping people, and at the time of meeting Emil she had not been a practicing physician long enough to be come jaded or careless. Other doctors did not spare Emil any sympathy because he was quiet and obedient, but Ada still gave him those. Her being in trouble is one of the few times this emotional reactions will be high—he’s terrified of losing his only source of comfort, and will become desperate and violent in order to keep her safe.

-Emil likes “being in a daze” because when he’s drugged up his constant pain is muffled. But he’s also less aware in general, and he’s so desperate for affection that he’s willing to forego the relief to be alert around Ada, or anyone else who dotes on him. Also similar to a dog, he’s fiercely loyal to Ada because she takes care of him. It’s not impossible for him to become attached to others too, but it will take time and repeat exposure to get over his protective urges. He’s more likely to get along with children and people Ada specifically introduces him to.

-Emil doesn’t have much preference in regards to food; he’s used to eating slop, scraps, and dog kibble. He does, however, like cakes because Ada always gave those to him as a “treat.” They represent another form of praise and affection to him. He prefers to eat with his hands than utensils—it hurts to try gripping those tiny things.

-Emil is afraid of dogs, and this unfortunately includes Wick. He and Victor don’t get along well because of how much the pup means to the Postman. He does seem to have some fondness for Ann’s cat, though.

-Most love languages work well for Emil, but Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation are his favorites to receive. (He rarely knows what to do with the gifts he’s given, however.) To give, he likes Acts of Service and Gift Giving. Emil loves to be touched gently, for any reason. Pet his hair, rub his back, massage his hands, he doesn’t care as long as you’re doing it with the intention of being loving and gentle. He even easily forgives missteps that aggravate his pre-existing pain. Uneducated as he is, Emil still knows what remorse looks like. The gifts he gives are rarely valuable in a monetary way, but he likes to share pretty things with the people he loves. A wire ring, a nice rock he found, the undamaged wings of a dead butterfly, you get the idea.

-Sexual abuse was among the abundance of mistreatment he suffered growing up. If and when Emil does engage in those sorts of activities, they require patience and a lot of communication to avoid triggering him. Ironically, he does better with those things when he’s NOT being regularly treated by Ada because the memories are buried too deep to crop up.

-Emil is somewhere between the ages of 25 and 28. As an adult, he grows facial hair, but he's not able to shave himself due to both a nervousness about knives and unsteady hands. Ada does it for him about once a week, and it's a time-consuming activity due to Emil needing regular reassurances.

-Another trait he's picked up from his canine company is "licking his wounds." And other people's if he cares about them enough. You've cut your finger? In his mouth it goes. Saliva does tend to promote healing to an extent, so most people let his behavior be.