#when i was younger all i did was draw wolves and dogs. never humans. if i had never branched out i wouldn't be here !

[quirkle2]

OBSESSED with how you draw sans,,, he's so lovely and shaped!!!! and the expressions are beautiful, and that art has the Quirkle Thing where it's all soft and warm and like a visual hug. and the details are beautiful, you've converted me to the "sans has reading glasses" agenda and I'm stoked about it. anyway I love you, I love your art, I hope 2023 is gentle to you!

CRIES???? oh mgygod thank you,,, it's rly fun seein what aspects of sans meld w my style and which ones dont. the more cartoony facial structure lets me play around w it a lil bit and i can mess w clothing hanging off thin bones instead of muscles n skin ! so so glad u like it im always worried abt people not likin non-lu art of mine GVEYIAV

[marvelatthetwilight]

Found in Forks

A/N: A quick one. To satisfy an Emmett shaped need in this story.

Y/N’s POV

Months had passed since we had declared our love, solidifying my bond with Paul. We were inseparable. I couldn’t bear to spend time without him, and even in his company, I NEEDED to be as close to him as possible.

When the pack were discussing the threat of the newborn army I couldn’t help my nerves from making my legs shake, my foot tapping against the leg of the table. Paul reached over and squeezed my hand. He gave me a look that said it’ll be ok. I was desperate to believe that was true.

“We are meeting the Cullens in an hour to train.” Sam said after hanging up the phone to Carlisle.

I felt Paul shake with anger beside me and a growl left his lips. “Why do we need to train, we’ve hunted bloodsuckers before?” He said, whilst I curled up against him to dissipate his anger, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Carlisle said this will be different, we need to trust them right now Paul. This threat isn’t just for them, we need to protect the reservation” the pack nodded at this and Paul didn’t press any further.

Everyone split off after this, with Quil and Embry heading off on patrol, agreeing to meet in the field in an hour. I turn in my seat to look Paul in the eye. “I want to come to training.”

Paul laughs, then sees the serious look in my eye and shakes his head. “Nope, not happening. I’m not putting you at risk by taking you to the bloodsuckers. That’s ridiculous.”

I place a hand on either side of his face and look deep into his eyes.

“I need this. I need to see that you will be ok. If I see you train it’ll make me feel better, help me to visualise you winning. Please Paul.” I try my best puppy dog eyes that I know he can’t refuse and he huffs in reply.

“Fine. But you will NOT be leaving my side, promise?”

“As if I ever would.” I reply and he pulls me tight towards him, kissing my forehead.

“I love you Y/N” he looks down at me, his eyes now softer.

“And I love you” I smile up at him and kiss him softly on the lips.

~~~

We had made it to the agreed field, with the Cullens already standing waiting. I could see Bella who Jacob always talking about was standing there too, recognising her from school, so I’m not the only human here. I send a small wave and a smile in her direction and she waved back, surprised to see me with the pack. Edward whispers something to her and she nods in understanding.

I slide off of Paul’s back once we come to a stop, and he gestures for me to take a seat in the grass. He lays down beside me once I am seated.

I look across at the Cullens, my first opportunity to see the whole family, having only seen the “children” briefly at school before.

Your eyes land on Emmett. You remember him from school, sitting in the cafeteria with the other Cullens, and you are reminded how much he looks like your dad and your grandpa. The similarities are uncanny. Images of your dad and your grandpa flash in your head as you compare them to the cold one you see in front of you. Weird.

You glance away and see Edward staring at you, a look of realisation on his face. Paul growls from beside you and you stroke the fur around his face before leaning your head against him. “Oh be quiet Paul, he’s doing nothing wrong” you whisper to him. He huffs before turning his attention to Carlisle, who begins to address the pack.

“Welcome, Jasper has experience with the newborns, and will teach us how to defeat them.”

Paul nods slightly beside you.

“They want to know how the newborns differ from us” Edward says as he reads the packs’ minds, Paul had told you about the gifts they possessed on your way to the meeting.

“They’re a great deal stronger than us because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months of this life” Carlisle explains. You shudder at this thought, fearful for your friends and Paul. As if sensing this he leans towards you, and your body relaxes with the contact.

Jasper steps forward, and addresses the pack. “A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. But no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are; first, never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. The second, never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that, and you will lose.”

The Cullens begin to demonstrate fighting, as Jasper narrates, advising the pack on what to do, or what not to do in some cases.

As the training comes to an end, Jared and Paul head off for patrol, Embry and Quill promising to get you back to Emily’s safely as they wait for you to finish talking to Bella.

“I’m so sorry the pack need to be involved Y/N.” Bella says quietly, an apologetic look on her face.

“The threat is a risk to everyone, including the reservation, they would help whether you ask them to or not, it’s just what they’re like.” You say with a smile as you watch Embry and Quil practise some techniques with Jasper.

“Y/N” Edward joins Bella, an arm quickly wrapped around her, pulling her close to his side.

“Edward, nice to see you again.” You were briefly lab partners a couple of years ago and you always appreciated how little he talked, no awkward small talk, unlike some of your peers. Little did you know that he also appreciated working with you, your mind was never filled with the inane gossip of your classmates.

“I don’t know if Paul has told you, but I can...hear people’s thoughts. I didn’t want to alarm you but I need to talk to you about something you thought about when you first got here” you nodded slowly, trying to remember what you had thought about.

“Erm...ok? I can’t remember what it was though?”

“It was when you were looking at Emmett, you thought he showed some similarity to some family members?” He motions for Emmett to join them.

“I’ve always thought it, but dismissed it before as it was ridiculous. He looks exactly like my dad and my grandpa, I’m sure my grandma has some photos of my grandpa when he was younger in one of her photo albums and he looks identical”.

Emmett appears at Edward’s side just as you finish talking. He frowns slightly and then asks; “where are your family from Y/N?”

“Erm...well my dad was born here in Forks but my grandpa was from Tennessee...Gatlinburg I think my grandma said.”

Emmett’s eyebrows dart up in shock and shortly after Edward’s expression changes to shocked too. Emmett walks closer, not worrying about the distracted wolves.

“What was your grandpa’s name Y/N?”

“Ernest Y/L/N”

Emmett smiles a big smile, and turns to Edward, then motions for Rosalie to join them. He squeezes Rosalie’s hand, excitement showing on his face.

“Y/N, I think your grandpa was my nephew. My older sister Mary was his mother, Mary Y/L/N. That makes me your great-great uncle!”

You laugh at this, moving forward to hug Emmett, he picks you up, wrapping his large arms around you. This draws attention from Embry and Quil, who quickly realised that Paul would destroy them if anything happened to you. They move forward quickly, as if they are going to attack before Edward steps in front of you and Emmett trying to explain.

“They’ve just discovered they’re related, it’s a hug! He isn’t attacking her.”

The wolves look at each other, then back at you as Emmett sets you back on the ground.

“I’m fine guys, just happy!”

You turn your attention back to Emmett as he speaks again, “when I died I worried about my family a lot, I was the only son, I was strong and provided for them when my dad got too old. I left them some money, but after we moved away I never found out what happened. Now I know!”

You smile at this. “My grandpa always used to tell us stories about his uncle when we were younger, he was wild, he used to say, really strong, and an amazing hunter. He said they were all devastated when you were eaten by a bear...”

Emmett looks sad at this.

“Were they ok though, how did Ernest end up here?”

“I’m not really sure, but my grandpa owned a hunting shop just outside of Forks, they were comfortable I think. My dad is a lawyer, based out of Seattle during the week, then he comes home to Forks at the weekends. My grandpa saved up to put dad through school, he was so proud of him.”

A smile returns to Emmett’s face, as he thinks about his nephew, hard working like him, providing for his family.

Rosalie walks over and wraps an arm around his waist. “So all these years of wondering, wanting to go back to Tennessee to try and find them and you’ve found your family in Forks?”

��Looks like it babe!” He ruffles your hair as he speaks and you try to swat his arm away.

“I’m so happy to meet you Y/N, I’ve spent years wondering, and now I know.” You smile at your great-great uncle, wishing you could tell your family. Edward heard this and walks to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You are welcome to our house anytime, you’re part of the family now...with...er...wolf bodyguards of course” he adds as he glances to the wolves growling behind you.

You laugh as you look at the wolves, then back at the Cullens. I’m so lucky to have found so many people to call family.

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle

[fluffyk97]

Basic backstories, setup and just few little things about Werewolf Cole Au. A synopsis if you will?

There's no elemental powers, Overlord, Zane isn't a nindroid, etc. Just basically a regular world with small real myths such as Werewolves.

Werewolf wolf forms aren't humanoid, but really are just big 6ft tall wolves.

Kai and Nya do live in a house near the woods and their parents were never kidnapped so they were raised by them. However they both are in a line of work that has them not home most of the time.

Kai & Nya found Lloyd on the streets being bullied from other kids. Kai immediately couldn't stand it and stepped in. When asked where Lloyd lived so they could take him, Lloyd said he didn't have one.

After a long video call later, and a quick visit by Maya, Lloyd was able to be adopted into their family and enroll in school under the name Lloyd Smith.

Kai is 20, Nya is 18, Lloyd is 14, Cole is 21, Jay is 18, Zane is 23, Pixal is 22, Skylor is 21. Excluding Cole till later, they're just a big friend group.

Kai is trying to find a good College to get into while working at Skylor and her Mother's small Noodle Shop. There is no Chen because I said so.

Skylor and Kai used to date in Highschool, but found to be better friends instead and now are just close friends.

Jay & Nya are in highschool Senior Year, and are together.

Zane & Pixal was friends with them in highschool, but now are in College together. Also a couple, and they love to visit when they can and video chat.

Lloyd is in Middle School. He's managed to make few friends there but his best friends are his adopted siblings, their friends, and his adopted cat, Meowthra.

Cole was childhood friends with Jay back in another town until one day him, his father and mother had to suddenly move out without a word to anyone. So to Jay, his childhood friend just one day disappeared.

There are Werewolf Hunters after them.

Cole gets his wolf side from Lily.

Lily doesn't pass away when he was younger, but is sick. Lou moves them to the Town where the gang are, hearing about how it's nice and close to some woods, good clean air, and he did some digging and saw nothing about Hunters being in the town because the Forest and its wildlife are supposed to be protected.

Cole is trying to figure out what to do for his mother and always goes out to the woods at night to let himself be a wolf, especially because he doesn't have complete control of his transformation like Lily.

Unfortunately Hunters did follow them.

The Hunters one day went to eat at the Noodle Shop and talked about going hunting in the Woods. Kai overheard, and he knows the Woods are not to be hunted in. Kai tried leaving a voicemail to Skylor but his phone unfortunately died mid message. He wasn't sneaky enough about it and the Hunters did notice.

At the end of his shift, locking up the Noodle Shop, Kai is jumped by the Hunters so they don't have a goody goody try and ruin their hunt.

Kai managed to get away and did run off into the woods, hoping to lead them off his tail, not find their way to his house, while also hoping to manage to get home through the woods.

Kai of course loses the Hunters, but unfortunately his ankle did get sprained pretty bad and he stops to sit against a tree once he's sure he's safe.

That's when Cole finds him after smelling some of his blood.

Kai never heard of any reports of wolves in the woods, especially none that are 6ft tall. So understandably, Kai freezes up in fear while also knowing he wouldn't get anywhere if he tried.

Cole approaches, luckily just have hunted something himself so Kai's blood doesn't affect his hunter instincts too much.

Cole slowly approaches Kai before licking his wounds. He turns Kai around and grabs him by the back of his jacket, carrying him off to his little den he set up for when he's out in the woods.

Kai freaks out and is about to yell before he hears the distant sound of a Jeep driving through the woods which leads him to shut up in fear its the hunters.

This also has Cole rush to the den.

The den is set up with a large bedroll, campfire and few other necessities because Cole goes to it when he's a human as well. It surprises Kai, but he doesn't complain when the big wolf sets him down and carries over a first aid kit.

Even after patching himself up, Kai still can't get up, but it seems the Wolf in front of him basically saved him and maybe has an owner. Plus, out of fear of running into the hunters, he decides okay he'll stay for the night.

Cole does notice Kai starts shivering when trying to sleep, so he goes over to offer some warmth. Kai while uneasy with a big wolf next to him, accepts it, not wanting to risk going against it and it is nice.

This leads to both of them falling asleep and Cole completely forgetting he's going to change back in the morning.

So Kai wakes up being hugged by this large shirtless man. His screaming wakes Cole up, leading him to screaming as well as the scramble to get apart.

The den is surprisingly close to Kai's house, so as Nya is about to head out on her bike to find out why Kai didn't come home last night, she hears him screaming in the woods.

After the screaming stops, Kai and Cole stare at each other. Kai in complete bewilderment, glancing around for that wolf from last night unaware it was Cole. Cole meanwhile is frozen, slapping himself mentally for some reason helping this random stranger as a wolf and not thinking about him turning back in the morning.

Nya calls out for Kai though, drawing his attention away from Cole and allowing him a moment to slip away.

Kai after realizing he was left alone, decides to get up, limping out of the den to call out to Nya.

Kai is brought home and his wounds are more properly treated. A call to Skylor to look out for the guys that jumped Kai and to let her know what's up.

Kai tells the story about the Wolf. Lloyd gets excited wanting to find a big nice Wolf himself, but Nya quickly dismisses it to it most likely just being a dream passing out in the woods. Hoping to delude Lloyd from going and searching the woods for said Wolf, while also not believing it herself.

Kai is basically forced to stay home till they know the Hunters aren't going to go after him again, and to heal up his ankle.

Kai keeps thinking about that night while during his little house arrest, and even dreams of the man he woke up next to, turning into the 6ft Wolf that helped him.

One night when he's okay to walk again and Nya is at Jay's house with Lloyd to help him study, and for a little sleepover, Kai sneaks out back to the woods, finding the den again and hopes to come across the Wolf again.

Cole wanders in as a wolf and freezes noticing Kai waiting for him. He was no different from Kai, constantly thinking about the other in numerous ways since their encounter.

Cole unfortunately wasn't so prepared for another meeting and turns to run away, but finds himself freezing when Kai cries out "Wait!"

Kai slowly approaches Cole.

"You can understand me, can't you?" Cole looks Kai in the eyes and nods to Kai's slight surprise.

"Are you that guy I woke up next to?" Cole whines in response, in fear of Kai knowing.

"It's okay! I... well its little weird to think about, but... wow I was actually right? Haha, I don't know how to feel about this, but I won't go ratting you out don't worry!" Cole's ears perk up in surprise.

That's when the familiar sound of a Jeep reaches both their ears. Smelling the air, Cole whines, recognizing the smell of Hunters, moving to turn and run again, but Kai stops him again.

Kai offers and brings Cole back to his house to help hide him. Cole feels like he should reject, and not trust so easily, but he finds himself following Kai easily.

That's when Kai walks in with Cole, ducking through the back door and see Nya and Lloyd who just got home because the sleep over got cancelled.

After a lot of panic and explaining later, Nya agrees to help out Cole, wanting more explaining from him if Kai saying him turning into a human is true.

Lloyd is very excited to see such a big wolf and starts talking to Cole a lot. It surprises Cole, but he also finds it enjoyable to see a kid so excited to actually see him like this after growing up and being told by Lou he should never show his secret to anyone.

Lloyd does bring Meowthra to Cole, and while Kai and Nya were expecting the usual Cat vs Dog or this case, Wolf, Meowthra surprisingly really likes Cole and they get along fine.

Lloyd helps Kai give food to Cole once they hear the wolf's tummy growl.

The next morning, Cole wakes up in the living room as human and he does explain what he is. Pleading for the trio of siblings to not say anything, especially after he smelled Hunters and learned they're the ones who hurt Kai. They of course agree to the promise.

This starts the cycle of Cole coming over some nights as a Wolf and staying the night.

Cole is excited to talk to people again after being on the run and being hidden for so long and a nice distraction from worrying about his mother.

Kai finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with Cole until he realizes he's actually falling in love with a werewolf.

Overtime the rest of the friend group also accidentally learn about Cole but agree to keep the secret. Jay especially being really happy to see his childhood friend again and getting an explanation why he disappeared so long ago.

Kai find himself talking a lot about Cole to his siblings and Skylor. Cole does the same to Jay about Kai.

Of course they do confess at some point. Or basically forced to by everyone.

Cole keeps all this a secret from Lou because his father has grown to always have a constant worry of his son and wife being hurt because their Wolf sides. He talks to Lily about everyone though when he thinks she's asleep, but she does hear it all and is happy to hear her son is happy. She doesn't tell Lou until Cole is ready.

Cole is a clingly bf when him and Kai are together, being very touch starved from only having his mom & dad for so long. Kai loves attention, so it works out perfectly.

Cole as a wolf will sometimes just pick up Kai to bring him t lay down with and enjoy cuddles. When human, he loves to come up from behind for a hug.

Kai brought Cole to work one day and Cole fell in love with the food there ofc.

When Cole first ate cake around the others, he was a wolf and they did immediately get scared with mindset of chocolate bad for dogs. Morning came and Cole reassured he was fine and is still okay to eat anything he can as a human, as a wolf.

Cole does still struggle with gaining control of his transformation but that mainly affects to him turning into a wolf every night. Lily can turn into a wolf anytime she wants.

However sometimes Cole finds himself losing to his wolf instincts and needs to hunt or gets hostile.

First time Cole loses himself as a wolf he is hostile, but Kai slowly approaches him, treating it like he would for Lloyd when he has panic attacks, and brings Cole out of it. Mostly succeeding to get close because Cole smells his own scent on Kai.

They all do try and pitch in to find a way to help Lily, and stop the Hunters.

[kaypeace21]

Analyzing the 5 plays in this drama club poster .From the bts pics of stranger things 4.

So... some of ya’ll know I'm going through the st s4 films given to us by the official st twitter + the films reffed in the show itself or mentioned by the Duffers in interviews .

So I decided to look at the plays mentioned here. Because even if we don't see the monologues in the show directly - the Duffers wouldn't name drop anything unless it inspired them in some way. Similar to films name dropped in the show. Tw : for some dark themes .

This is just a quick little analysis I decided to do since we probably won't get any new st content today (3/22). Nothing too deep. Just mentioning things that caught my interest especially cause these plays have a lot of narrative connections to the st s4 movies I've been watching.

Invitation to a march (Authur laurents)

Reminds me of the stancy/jancy love triangle. "A young woman is having second thoughts about doing the right thing and marrying a respectable , rich, kind, young man with good prospects.By way of a prewedding diversion, this woman becomes interested in the passionate but poor and entirely unsuitable son of a local landlord.Basically, the plot concerns the efforts of Norma Brown to choose between a conventional fiance who "puts her to sleep" but is wealthy (like what her own mother did) or go for this new-poor guy. The play is principally interested in how this youthful love triangle affects the three mothers involved (whether the kids like it or not)

12th night (Shakespeare)

 - viola (el) wrongly assumes a family member (hopper) is dead. She dresses up as a man named 'cesario'. A girl named Olivia falls for 'cesario' (violet dressed as a man). "Finally, when 'Cesario' and Sebastian (violet's twin brother: assumed to have drowned - Will) appear in the presence of Olivia there is more wonder and confusion at their physical similarity. Taking Sebastian for 'Cesario', Olivia asks him to marry her, and they are secretly married in a church. Cough if Olivia is 'straight' cause she fell for Viola (as a doppleganger dressed like her twin brother).Mike being into el who multiple characters in s1 said looked like a boy and specifically like Will is...suspish and a hint he's not straight lol. just like Olivia they're both into guys . plus, this play just has a butt load of love triangles (ugh i hated that aspect). There was also romantically coded letters (which was in the s4 films) . One character is also thrown into an insane asylum and framed as 'insane'.'Pretending that Malvolio is insane, they lock him up in a dark chamber. Feste visits him to mock his insanity'. We all know the psych hospital will be narratively important- talked about it more here.

The seagull (Anton Chekhov-russian)

similar to how I believed s4 will show m*#even already broken up since the months between s3-4 : act 3 (s3) ends with Nina begging for one last chance to be with Trigorin before he leaves/moves away. They kiss and make plans to meet again in Moscow.And in act 4 there's a timeskip where it shows they've been broken up for a long time between acts- and its established they never actually loved eachother. Do i even have to spell out why this parallels the m*#even ending in s3? There is also a play within the play (this is common in a lot of the st films- they have plays- or a story within a story- which illustrate certain themes or emotions of the characters within said film : blackswan, children of paradise, highschool musical, Rushmore, book of Henry, welcome to marwen, never ending story, romancing the stone, wet hot American summer, etc).The play is Konstantin's latest attempt at creating a dense symbolist work. There is also alot of love triangles in the seagull. TW!: for se#ual ab*se/su*cidal thoughts/ inc*st (here and in other play segments). The seagull motif reminds me a lot of Jonathan's rabbit story.Konstantin romantically into Nina shows up to give her a gull that he has shot. Nina is confused and horrified . Trigorin sees the gull that Konstantin has shot and muses to Nina on how he could use it as a subject for a short story: "The plot for the short story: a young girl lives all her life on the shore of a lake. She loves the lake, like a gull, and she's happy and free, like a gull. But a man arrives by chance, and when he sees her, he destroys her, out of sheer boredom. Like this gull."  This immediately reminded me of jon's rabbit story and some of the movies on the s4 list . Like in forrest gump- Jenny (who is poor) was se*ually ab*sed as a very young girl by her father. As a child she runs away into a field-away from her alcoholic father yelling at her -there she prays that she can "be a bird so I can fly far far away" .

Jenny as an adult struggles with this unresolved trauma- being with ab*sive partners, doing dr*gs, and having su*cidal thoughts . She as an adult when contemplating su*icide, jokes 'you think i can fly like a bird ?' while looking down at a bridge.God-i'm worried about jonathan (Jenny was also a musician sort of like jon). In another s4 movie example ' mystic river ' :(in the 80s) a preteen baseball playing boy is r*ped by men in the woods. He later says he wishes he could become an undead monster to not feel the pain of that experience - cause quote " if I'm not human anymore maybe the pain will stop" (Will) . slightly off topic but he also has another personality, imagines a alternate word that dissappears when he turns his head. And as a less direct animal parallel to the play - the boy from the film also imagined his perpetrators as monsters and wolves to cope.In 'getout' the photographer character sees a dead deer in the woods and it represents a parent/his own childhood tra*ma relating to his past. similarly in 'prince of tides' the 2 siblings as kids were ra*ed by men. The older brother remembered it and the younger sibling developed DID (so didn't remember but she would draw wolves- as the perpetrators/villains in her picture stories she created . In the film they also had an ab*sive dad and were very poor. She also tried k*ling herself multiple times-but started to get better after remembering the source of her pain and trauma.  There is also the theme of multiple attempted su*cides in the play- and the play ends with yet another attempt- and the audience is left unaware of the artist's fate at the end of the play.

The tempest (Shakespeare)

Prospereo - (the perceived antagonist) is a wizard with monstrous looks, storm powers , and ability to create monster-dogs

He wants revenge on a man who tried ra*ing his family member & revenge on his other family member who wronged him years ago. I mean... pretty much my did theory.But in the end.Prospero decides to show his enemies the mercy that they did not show him twelve years earlier. He tells Ariel to bring the men to him, he will restore their sanity and then renounce magic forever.Prospero breaks the spell that the men are under .

Diary of a scoundrel (Alexander Ostrovsky-Russian)

-  I suppose this could loosely relate to Jonathan? Glumov, is a young man from an impoverished family lacking status seeking entrance into society's pampered class. A 19th-century Russian scoundrel must scheme his way out of his meager life in a small apartment -whatever it takes.He has a quick mind and some talent for seeing through the hypocrisies of people around him ( Jonathan does make a lot of social critiques about society). That gives him some advantages. A tale of one man's mission to finagle his way into upper-class society and find a cushy job. Set in 1874, this social comedy follows Glumov, a Russian youth who begins his ambitious ascent to social esteem. He progresses by wit, guile and rhetoric. Pitting one stupid person against another, he soon gains his ends. To reach these goals, Glumov will lie, flatter, and cater to the vanities of the wealthy. Unable to contain his disgust with his victims, Glumov decides to relieve his unvoiced satirical comments by recording his schemes in a diary. But he is tripped up by his uncle's wife, to whom he has made passionate love on his way to success. At the end of the play, his diary is stolen and his duplicity exposed, but he can nevertheless suceeds. The author is much more critical about the high society itself than about the main character, so the play keeps attracting generations of directors by opening possibilities for political criticism while also avoiding naming names of the current rulers.The play's aim was to overthrow bourgeois tradition and establish a class-conscious art called eccentricism giving a deliberately comic portrayal of reality.

I suppose I notice some possible commonalities-  besides s3 critiquing the wealthy/capitalism in comedic ways . jonathan since s1 has worried about his family's finances / had some resentment toward the rich . In some of the s4 movies ‘orphan’ & ‘ girl interrupted’ someone reads their diary out loud to get at them (in girl interrupted the winona character’s diary even had critiques of her new friends).  Alot of movies also have someone (usually a teen/young adult) making a documentary about their life -which could narratively replace said diary? A few movies have a poor guy adjusting to snobby rich social circles (or being poor and then getting money)- titanic, kingsmen, karate kid, the craft , godfather,  wardogs,into the spiderverse,flashdance, and many others . And movies like wardogs has a poor-young-character do shady things to finacially support his family . There’s also that whole uncle’s wife thing- which makes me uncomfortable for obvious reasons (but I’m just thinking of Lonnie’s creepy gf who was into him). A few movies had the guy’s step mom innappropriately hit on him- orange county & you got mail. And him trying to avoid her advances. Or...not to mention ... it may be a problematic coincidence /trope. But in enter the void -the guy who needs to finacially support his sibling/ does dr*gs -hooks up with his dr*g dealing friend’s married mom (who would give him money).  Or in gilbert grape- the poor teen-who has to finacially support his siblings/single mom-has his endgame relationship be a girl his own age. But before that he h*oked up with a married woman -who would give him money. Don’s plum -young film guy-propositioned by older female film director (for dream job). Not even mentioning the other films that have the guy hooking up with toxic older women (like ‘the graduate’). Or analyze this-where the therapist accuses him of having an Oedipus complex (not touching that one... but the guy in ‘enter the void’ a 100% had one). It’s possible those movies were just- inspo for s3?  A coincidence? Or s3 was foreshadowing for this in s4- but unlike s3 it will accurately be played as wrong  and a sign of Jonathan recreating past tra*ma caused by Lonnie (cough like the photos) /being desperate for money. And not played ‘comedically’ like how it mostly was in s3. But shown as self destructive  (for Jon) and immoral on the Woman’s end. Like... Billy and Jon are character foils. Both are older siblings into rock music, with ab*sive dads who shoved them into walls. Both lose it (and beat steve to a pulp when Steve accidentally triggers their daddy issues). In s3 it’s established womanizer Billy has mommy issues, than he tries ho*king up with someone his mom’s age, and the characters ref ‘back to the future ‘ and Steve incorrectly says it’s about “alex p keaton trying to bang his mom.” This could illustrate his subconscious issues with parental figures/adults cause of Lonnie’s  possible past se*ual ab*se . One film the friend even says to the guy “you don’t have friends!” guy b: i have friends! him:  no you have acquaintances! ADMIT IT! YOU’RE AFRAID OF MEN!I mean-Jonathan liked Nancy- but he initially hooked up with her cause he wanted to prove he didn’t have ‘trust issues’ from his dad. Also it’s prob a bit of a reach (and maybe a coincidence)- but the fact Murray in the same breath compares Steve (Nancy’s then bf) and Lonnie  ... uh... if you think too long about it ... it’s very sinister .  Especially because in s3: muray tells Joyce  that despite her wanting to be with a nice guy, she’s curious about “the brute” Hopper despite him reminding her of a past “bad relationship”(aka Lonnie). Like- yeah connect some dots.  Quite a few films (other than forrest gump) also have the character who (as a kid) was  r*ped by their dad/parent-  begin to do dr*gs/be pr*miscuous as adults since they never learned to properly cope with their trauma (’girl with the dragon tattoo’,  ‘black swan’, and ‘magnolia’). Unfortunately the whole relative doing such things to kid-relatives is in at least 30+ movies. 

Personally, i would be MUCH happier if Jon had a age appropriate romance- and had not a single creepy adult near him. A few movies actually imply Lonnie gets yet another ‘new model’  replacing his gf in her 20s with a new gf- who is ‘barely l*gal” and just turned 18. so there’s that possibility as well- that she’s jonathan’s age.I just want Jonathan-happy &safe. GOD. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[wistfulcynic]

The Eternal and Unseen (1 of 3)

SUMMARY: Misthaven University is an ancient place, and as all ancient places do it guards some secrets. Secrets such as Emma Swan and Killian Jones, a fae princess and her royal guardian, whose true identities are well concealed behind the guise of average college students—if not quite well enough to foil the plot their enemies have hatched against them. Now their friends will have to come together, putting their own differences aside to battle an enemy that threatens them all—fae and vampire and werewolf together… plus one very baffled human named David. 

For @cssns​​ 

a/n: Thanks to @spartanguard​​ and  @optomisticgirl​​ for the prompts that planted the seeds of this idea and to my TERRACE-mates @thisonesatellite​​, @ohmightydevviepuu​​, and @katie-dub​​, without whom I might never have found the right way to encourage them to grow, and of course INCOHERENT GIBBERING NOISES OF DELIGHT to @carpedzem​​ for the absolutely stunning art about which I cannot possibly say enough good things. Please zoom all the way in and appreciate the perfection of all the little details she included. The tiny wee fronds on the plant! The shape of the light! Emma’s feather earrings! Her red cloak! Her hat! (the hat you guys, the hat!!). Everything about it is so, so gorgeous and Nat is so talented and creative and such a joy to work with ❤️❤️❤️.

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On AO3 Rating: M Words: 3.9k (first chapter)

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CHAPTER ONE: 

David Nolan was always surprised by people’s reactions when they learned he was the Resident Assistant for H.C. Andersen Hall at Misthaven University. Sure, it was the oldest dorm on the campus, built of dark stone in a high Gothic style, with tall towers and pointed arches, way back when Misthaven and her people still believed in magic. And sure, the heavy wooden doors had a way of creaking on their iron hinges and the windows rattled in their frames when the wind was high... sometimes even when it didn’t blow at all. But this was merely rust and weather and David was a practical man, not one to be troubled by such things as can be plausibly explained away.

And yes, Andersen did have that reputation, though David was certain it could be no more than simple silly student gossip. As an upperclassmen dorm its occupancy was by request only, and over the years it had come to be known as the place where some of the more… unique students tended to convene. But that was surely no reason for people to give that startled twitch or to take a wary step back from him when he told them about his job. Or for the other candidates to look so relieved when they learned it was he and not they who’d be taking over from the last RA, a guy called Walsh who had, in the words of one, “Still not recovered from the trau—er, the experience. But hey, good luck, man.”

A thousand years ago when it was known by another name, Andersen alone had been the university, a haven for scholars of every kith and creed and a place where learning took precedence over any rivalry, however ancient. The building had both schooled and housed them, fed them in its great dining hall with food cooked in the basement kitchen, tutored them in the tower classrooms with books procured from the vast library. When lessons were completed the scholars found repose in the common room, a comfortable space with an enormous fireplace, large, overstuffed chairs, and carved wooden tables where lively debates were had each night until the fire died and they withdrew to their rooms to sleep. (Rooms which, David observed to his delight, were twice the size of those in the other dorms and always single occupancy—no roommate squabbles for him to contend with.) As the university grew and newer dorms were built, as the ancient covenants were forgotten and magic faded from the land, fewer and fewer students chose to reside in the newly christened Andersen Hall. At present there were only eight, plus David, who despite the strange reactions he encountered was thrilled to be the RA there. Eight residents, and all upperclassmen, he thought to himself. Andersen had to be the easiest gig on campus. How odd that no one else had seemed to want it.

The hall itself stood just at the edge of the modern campus, tucked against the so-called enchanted forest that marked the border of Misthaven on three sides. It was an ancient forest, whether enchanted or not—a forest of twisted trees and clinging moss and the shrouding mist that gave their country its name. Very little sunlight survived to reach its floor and thus such things as grew there fed on decay, most digging their roots deep into the soil to wrench what nutrients they could from it and barely peeking the tips of their grey-green leaves above the ground. Other valiant species reached out for whatever light could penetrate the dense canopy, stretching upward into vines that curled around the trunks and branches of the gnarled trees to unfurl their broad leaves hopefully as close as they could to the sky. And so it was of course these very leaves and vines and branches that crept up Andersen’s stone walls and scraped against its windows, and cast deep and shifting shadows that fell both outside the hall and in.

So yeah, David reflected, Andersen Hall was old. And dark. And with each successive year it sank a bit more deeply into the forest’s embrace—a perfectly benign embrace, most of the time, although perhaps not ideal when you found yourself alone in your dorm with the music in your headphones never quite as loud as the branches across your windows, or the distant howls of wolves, or the much less distant scrabblings of other creatures to which it was not always wise to put a name. So, yeah, there was that.

And the students who chose to live in Andersen were characters, that was for sure. Even David had to admit that he’d never met anyone quite like them before. But, he reminded himself, at the end of the day they were just students. Just kids like all the others, despite the sometimes unnerving focus of their attention and the surprising depth to their eyes. Just college kids discovering themselves, exploring their quirks and hobbies and interests.

Take Emma, for example. Emma Swan, as graceful as her name implied and even more beautiful, with her warm smile and wry humour and the spark of mischief in her green eyes. One of the nicest girls David had ever met, tough and smart but with a kind and generous heart and a tender vulnerability that made him wish it were still fashionable to slay dragons. He’d gladly slay one for her—or anything else that might threaten her. His urge to protect Emma at all costs—though from what dangers it was never quite clear—surprised him with its persistent and overwhelming strength.

Also surprising was Emma’s choice of dorm-room decor; the space in her room not occupied by the bed, desk, television, and mini-fridge that were standard even in Andersen rooms, she had filled entirely with plants. Plants the like of which David was certain he had never before seen, long and twisted vines that clung and crept across the stone walls, broad leaves and pointed ones and flowers in unexpected colours. He’d examined them with a frown the day she moved in, mildly unnerved by how comfortably they already seemed to inhabit the space but convinced by Emma’s soothing reassurances and the evidence of his own eyes that none of them were anything college kids might wish to dry and smoke. And while keeping what was essentially a greenhouse in a dorm room may be a bit unorthodox it wasn’t strictly against the rules—David had even made a special visit to the Chancellor to ensure Emma wouldn’t run into any difficulty later on, if another student made a complaint, for example. The Chancellor’s eyes had widened to an alarming size, but he’d confirmed that yes, students were allowed plants in their rooms, and there wasn’t technically a limit on their number, then hustled David from his office with the rather thin excuse of a dentist appointment he suddenly remembered he had.

And as for Emma’s habit of chatting to her plants as though they understood her words, or chuckling to herself as she did so, or singing as she watered them—a low and haunting tune in a language David felt he really ought to recognise—all while wearing a pointed hat made of green straw with flowers round the brim which she called her ‘special gardening hat’… well, she wasn’t bothering anyone and David really didn’t think it was his place to judge.

And actually, Emma’s plants weren’t even the most unusual things that could be found in the rooms of his residents. Victor Whale, a slender, pale young man who gave the impression of feeding off his own nervous energy, had what looked to David’s admittedly untrained eye like an entire laboratory set up in his room—tall shelves lined with specimen jars and long tables loaded with Bunsen burners under simmering beakers of… substances in which David felt it might be wisest not to invest too much careful thought. He had not spoken to the Chancellor about those burners and didn’t intend to, both because he didn’t wish to draw attention to them and because Victor with his wild hair and wilder eyes, the sardonic smirk he nearly always wore and the barbed comments he loved to make, did not rouse quite the same protective instincts in David as Emma did.

That, and he wasn’t entirely certain the Chancellor would agree to meet with him again.

Of all his residents, the one David felt he could relate to most was Graham. They shared a similar taste for plaid shirts and brown leather jackets, and a similar appreciation for the simple joys that could be had in the great outdoors. Graham had an deep, instinctual understanding of nature that David envied; several times he’d caught the younger man in conversation with the dogs he met on the walks he liked to take or the squirrels who paused to chatter at him from the branches of trees, even the deer and other creatures that crept out from the forest to scratch at his window, serious conversation that did not appear one-sided. Graham spoke to animals as Emma did to plants—in the manner of folk to their brethren—but the connection went deeper even than that. Every few weeks he went out to spend all night in the woods, generally, David couldn’t help noticing, around the time of the full moon—and when David inquired why Graham simply replied “The animals need me.”

If animals of the furry variety had need of Graham, the feathered kind flocked, quite literally, to Snow. There never seemed to be a time when she wasn't accompanied by some feathered friend or other, and her dorm window was always open so they could come and go as they pleased. She kept bowls of seeds on her shelves and handfuls of them in her pockets and had been delighted when Emma gave her a tree so the birds would have somewhere in her room to nest—a tree that within a week had overgrown its pot and sunk roots into the stone floor of Snow’s room in a way David again found himself opting not to examine. He himself passed many a pleasant afternoon with Snow in that room, listening to her talk about—and to—her birds. It amazed him now how little attention he’d paid to birds before. They were astounding, beautiful creatures, and the sound of Snow’s voice, melodic and soothing as she stroked their feathered heads, was… well, it was… it was something he sometimes felt he could listen to forever.

Snow’s best friend in the dorm was Ruby and though David liked Ruby perfectly well he had to admit he was a bit baffled by how close the two were. They didn’t seem to have a whole lot in common. All but the bravest of Snow’s birds fled when Ruby approached, and the ones that stayed eyed her warily and stuck close to Snow as she flashed them a grin and licked her chops. Er, her lips. She licked her lips and it made the birds nervous, and… and at any rate, Ruby was bold and charming but just a bit wild. She liked to party and to stay out late, often not returning to her room until the early hours of the morning. Andersen had no curfew so David said nothing, though he couldn’t help noticing that in sharp contrast to Ruby’s habits Snow was usually in bed by 10 o’clock. Not that he paid her or her sleeping habits any particular attention, certainly not, just that he happened to notice she always left her room at around 9.45 to go wash her face, always wearing such cute pajamas and trailed by a flock of bluebirds—and it wasn’t like he made a point of being out in the common room when he knew she’d be walking by, he just… well, he happened to be there sometimes. That was all.

Yet despite these differences Snow and Ruby were the best of friends, and while Emma was more solitary and a bit distant until you got to know her, she also got along well with them. Ruby got along with just about everybody, including Belle, who David sometimes forgot was even among his residents. Belle had an unnerving way of appearing very suddenly where she was least expected and of disappearing without warning from places she’d been moments before. She was a quiet, studious young woman who moved as though her feet didn’t quite touch the floor and was so pale he sometimes fancied he could see through her. She was hardly ever in her room or even the common room, preferring to spend her time in the library.

“You might say she haunts the place,” August had remarked with a wry note in his voice that David imagined was significant, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Feeling at something of a loss, he had simply nodded. “She certainly does spend a lot of time there,” he’d agreed, then frowned when August laughed.

August was a bit of an odd one, the only person in the dorm whom Ruby actively disliked, so much that she actually snarled at him whenever their paths crossed. He took only evening classes and was never anywhere to be found during the day. At least once a week he returned from his classes accompanied by a young woman—always beautiful and rarely the same one twice—and David observed that while August preferred to sleep the day away those women would stumble from his room quite early the next morning and looking awful—pale and drawn and thoroughly exhausted. Before leaving they all would go to Emma’s door, knock three times slowly then three times fast, and when it opened they all smiled the same sheepish smile and stuttered the same apologies as they slipped into her room. When they emerged from it they were as new women—pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, glowing with health and quite pleased with themselves, wreathed in satisfied smiles.

David felt uncomfortably as though he ought to do something about this, though he had no idea what. The women always seemed so thrilled when they arrived—clinging to August’s arm and chattering brightly as he smiled at them with a peculiar sort of fond disinterest—and so contented when they left, after they’d seen Emma, at least, and as no formal complaints were ever lodged David was left with nothing more to go on than a feeling of vague discomfort.

He’d attempted to broach the subject once with Emma but she had simply shrugged and said “Groupies. What can you do?” and so he’d let it go.  

So those were his residents. Four women—Emma, Snow, Ruby, and Belle, and four men—Graham, Victor, August… and Killian.

Ah, yes. Killian.

David liked Killian, he truly did. It was a point of pride with him to find something to like about every one of his residents, though he had to admit that finding that thing for Killian posed something of a challenge. It wasn’t just that Killian preferred his leather black or opted for dark button-downs or obscure band t-shirts instead of plaid. It wasn’t even that he was mouthy and arrogant, smarter than most everyone he met and not afraid to let them know it. No, the challenge for David when it came to liking Killian was Emma. Or more specifically, the way Killian looked at Emma. And the way she very much looked back.

“I suppose that’s one way to ‘guard’ her,” Victor remarked one evening as they sat around the fire in the common room, Emma laughing with Graham in one corner while Killian glowered darkly at the pair of them from the other. “Very dramatic, you know. Very Charlotte Brontë. Or is it Emily, I always get them mixed up.”

“Piss off,” Killian snarled, returning his attention to his textbooks just in time to miss the glance Emma shot him from the corner of her eye.

“‘Course I suppose she doesn’t make it easy for you—” Victor began, then smirked when Killian slammed his book shut and got up. “I’m going to bed,” he declared and stalked from the room, Emma’s eyes following his every move as he went.

“Enemies to lovers slow burn, 100k,” Belle whispered to Ruby on another occasion, a rare instance when she left the library to join them for breakfast. Ruby nodded sagely and both of them sat back, observing Emma and Killian’s heated argument about the best way to make a cup of tea with all apparent enjoyment. David wasn’t entirely certain what that meant, or that he liked the way his residents seemed to find the pair’s squabbles so entertaining. He knew only that if Emma and Killian really thought anyone believed they hated each other the way they both so loudly and frequently proclaimed, they were seriously deluding themselves. Their little snarky comments and defiant challenges were some of the most obvious flirtation David had ever seen, especially when combined with those damned looks. Looks that all but screamed how much they would prefer to resolve their differences with physical action than with words, and that they had already imagined how those physical dispute resolutions might go—frequently and in great detail.

David did not approve of those looks.

Nor did he approve, as the summer heat faded into the cooler air of autumn and the green leaves of the forest’s trees took on brighter hues, of the way Emma and Killian’s snappish words began to lose the battle with that oh-so-evident longing to touch. Slowly at first and tentatively, small brushes of arms and fingers that before long began to linger… In principle he supposed there was nothing wrong with what they were doing, or with the budding feelings they continued to deny. He would be one hundred percent in support of it, in fact, were it not so damned blatant—those sparks of tension that turned the air electric, the raw hunger in Killian’s eyes as he watched her, the answering ache in hers when she watched him—David had come to think of Emma as he would a little sister and he did not appreciate being slapped in the face, so to speak, by the evidence of her active sexual interest in a man whom David was not at all convinced was good enough for her. It annoyed him so much that he almost—almost—found himself agreeing with Victor, who had taken to rolling his eyes and muttering “I wish they’d just fuck already” a bit too loudly whenever Emma and Killian got into one of their ‘disputes.’

He would have been able to officially disapprove the night he caught them doing tequila slammers in her dorm room—alcohol was discouraged in the dorms, even for students of legal drinking age—except that had turned out to be nothing but a very bizarre dream… although… had it been a dream? It must have been, though it had seemed so real at the time… but he remembered only catching sight of them through her slightly open door and reaching up to knock… the next thing he knew he was groaning as he woke in his own room, his head aching and feeling full of cotton wool, Emma sitting by his bedside with her ‘world famous hangover cure’ in one of Victor’s beakers explaining that he was the one who’d overindulged... “So unlike you, David, I’m really very shocked,” she’d said with that glint in her eye… and when David confronted Killian about the incident he’d merely scoffed and said “Tequila, mate? You were definitely dreaming. You know I only drink rum, and that in the company of ladies more… amenable than Swan.”

Of course, on the late October afternoon when David accompanied Graham on his walk and they stumbled upon Emma and Killian beneath a tree in the forest, wrapped around each other and kissing so deeply that he wondered how they could also be breathing—well, that was most definitely not a dream. It was also not in the dorm and therefore not technically within his jurisdiction, so he simply caught Graham by the arm and turned back the way they came.

The energy had shifted between Emma and Killian, he realised with a curious sort of bittersweet thrum in his chest. An unmistakable shift yet hard to define, as though they were hovering just on the cusp of something both nebulous and truly extraordinary. And despite them being right out in public—seriously, right off the footpath—the way they’d held each other was so intensely intimate that interrupting them, even to ask them to move to a more appropriate location, would have felt like the worst kind of intrusion. Plus of course there was no telling what uncomfortable circumstances David might find himself waking up in if he dared to cock-block Emma Swan.

Now where in hell had that thought come from?

A few hours later Emma and Killian returned to the dorm, flushed and mussed and with leaves in their hair, buzzing with that newly shifted energy—and holding hands, though they let go both reluctantly and immediately upon realising they were being eagerly observed.

“Well well well,” smirked Victor, elbowing David in the ribs. “Looks like August owes me twenty. I should probably thank you, Jones.”

“Bugger off, mate,” muttered Killian, entirely without his usual snarl, and then with a defiant glare and a flush high on his cheekbones, he sauntered after Emma into her room and shut the door firmly behind him.

“Well, I think I’ll go put on some very loud music,” Victor remarked, and retreated into his own room, leaving David alone in the common room feeling vaguely unsettled.

The next morning Killian and Emma arrived at breakfast together, radiating happiness and unable to stop touching, and, David would swear to it, with actual stars in their eyes. They left for their morning classes with their arms around each other, returning in the afternoon in the same manner, and when Victor and August tried to mock him about it Killian just laughed.

“We’ve worked out our differences, mates,” he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows. “I’m certain you know what I mean.”

“It’s sweet, really,” August observed one evening a week or so later, in that dry, supercilious tone of his that grated on David’s nerves. “Though possibly not the wisest move, sleeping with the woman under his protection. I’ve seen the vows they have to take, you know, and they are intense. It could literally be the death of him.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Ruby snapped, baring her teeth as Snow placed a soothing hand on her arm. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

“You’re right of course,” August agreed, his eyes flashing red in the firelight. “What would I know about love and loss, I’m only three hundr—”

“Well, I think it’s great they’ve finally gotten together,” said Snow loudly, glaring first at August then Ruby then August again. “I hope they’ll be happy.”

David hoped so too, genuinely. Even he could see how good the two of them were for each other. She smoothed his rough edges and he drew her out from her shell, and the dangerous sparks of their attraction settled down into the far gentler flame of new love. It was sweet, and he did approve, and yet—still he felt unsettled, a vague sensation of unease twisting deep in his gut. He’d call it a premonition, if he believed in such things. But he was a sensible man, a man of science and the twenty-first century, and so he firmly ignored it.

Two days later Emma Swan disappeared.

___

[dovechim]

twist n’ dunk (m)

➾ werewolf jimin x reader

➾ 3.6k

➾ part of a series of drabbles for the dark side of the moon

➾ warnings: plenty of lactation, slight food play, oral (f), time skip, unprotected sex, lactation incorporated into intercourse, good old impregnation kink

➾ a/n: finally, this is my answer to how many pups they had :) that aside, im posting this to celebrate our golden boy’s birthday. happy birthday jimin, thank you for being a light in my life 🔆

“Why did you even invite them over if you were going to be so huffy about it?” You watch as your husband paces back and forth, nostrils flared and fists clenched in an attempt to control himself from mauling the two other male wolves currently sitting beside you on the couch.

Correction, sitting is far too vague of a description. More specifically, Jeongguk has his cheek on your rounded belly as his eyes remained focused on the television screen in front of him. Taehyung has one hand protectively on the other side of your belly as he tries his best to manage his game controller with the other. Meanwhile you are trashing both boys at Mario Kart.

Somehow you feel it’s because the normally competitive Jeongguk is far too distracted by the warmth of your belly to get upset about losing, and Taehyung is good naturedly letting you win. The only person who’s not having any fun whatsoever is Park Jimin.

Actually, the only reason why Jeongguk and Taehyung are here right now is because you made him invite them over, reason being that you need to spend some time with someone other than Jimin for a while. As much as you love your husband, sometimes pregnancy gets tiring and you just want an afternoon to have a break from him and his incessant worrying about his pups and just play mindless games.

So really, as jealous and fuming mad as Park Jimin is right now, your needs come first and he can’t object. He mutters that he needs the three of you out of his sight before he stalks to the kitchen and closes the door to try and make himself forget that you’re currently in close proximity of two very horny, very single male wolves.

Jeongguk’s nose twitches a little just as the round ends. He’s careful not to place too much pressure on you as he shifts his head to glance up at your breasts just above him. “Something smells sweet… are you lactating?”

At the mention of it, you look down and notice a wet patch on your shirt. Towards the late stage of your pregnancy, you began to leak every now and then, but it wouldn’t be very substantial. Just a few drops, but irritating enough to cause you to have to change your shirt.

“Oh pause, I need to get a new shirt,” you sigh as you put the controller down even though there’s no such thing as pausing in Mario Kart. Nevertheless, the two boys on the couch beside you drop their controllers obediently as well, not even taking advantage of this opportunity to win their first match.

“Jeongguk-ah, have you ever tried breast milk?” Taehyung says curiously as he glances at the wet patches on your chest. With their ultra-sensitive noses, you’re sure that they could probably smell the milk as well. It’ll only be a matter of time before Jimin realises what’s going on.

“Of course I haven’t,” the youngest looks as if he’s in a trance, he can’t stop himself from staring at your breasts. “When would I get the chance to? No one we know is pregnant except ______.”

You’re about to push both of them off just so you can get changed, but the fascination on their faces make you pause. Would it really be so bad if you sated their curiosity? After all, it’s not like either of them would get the opportunity to do so any time soon if not from you. It’s completely harmless.

And obviously you wouldn’t let them drink from the source; Jimin would throw a fit.

You reach under your loose shirt to pinch one nipple, feeling your finger wet with liquid before drawing it back out. Holding it in front of Jeongguk first, you glance nervously at the kitchen door.

“Just a little bit. Don’t tell Jimin.” You offer your finger to him, and the delighted youngest licks it gratefully, closing his eyes as he tries to get every single drop.

“It’s sweet, sweeter than normal milk,” his eyes open wide. “It’s thin but sweet.”

“Let me try please,” Taehyung begs from your other side, and you sigh, reaching back under your shirt to milk out a few more drops from your other nipple for him to taste. Likewise, he licks your finger gratefully.

“It’s like almond milk!” Taehyung exclaims as he glances longingly at your breasts, as if he wants more.

“Alright, that’s enough to sate your curiosity right?” You grumble as you start to push the both of them off. But then, you feel your breasts leak a little more onto your shirt, causing the wet patch to grow substantially. Usually you just let your breasts produce whatever they have and then change your shirt. But pinching and milking them this time must have stimulated a larger flow than normal.

You can feel both wolves’ rapt attention on your chest.

“Just a bit more, you’re leaking so much,” Jeongguk says with a small whine in his voice. “It’s such a shame to waste it.”

“What? I can’t let you do that, you know Jimin would rip your balls off if I let you do that,” you try to talk some sense into the youngest wolf, but all he can see is the wet patch on your chest.

Taehyung sighs and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “He’s right. It’s all going to waste…”

Suddenly Jeongguk sits up with bright eyes. “I have an idea! Wait here please!”

His begging is so earnest that you sigh, watching him spring off from his seat and run into the kitchen. You hear Jimin’s voice as Jeongguk rummages for something in the kitchen, and then he’s back a second later with… a packet of oreos.

All you can do is stare at the youngest wolf in confusion as he rips the packet open, takes out an oreo and positions it in front of your chest.

“Noona, please. Just squirt some on my oreo.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that, I love milk and oreos,” Taehyung gasps as he reaches for a oreo and holds it in front of your other breast. “I’ll take this side, so you can do us both at the same time!”

“I’m not aiming my tits at an oreo!” You exclaim in indignation. “I’m not a cow!”

“What are you doing?” Jimin appears from the kitchen, eyeing the three of you suspiciously as if he expected something else to be happening. But upon seeing this very strange sight of Jeongguk and Taehyung holding two oreos in front of your chest, the alpha wolf is visibly confused.

“We’re out of milk in the house, and we wanted some oreos,” Jeongguk says innocently. “Noona offered to help us out.”

Jimin’s gaze hardens as he turns to you. “You did?”

Your jaw drops at how easily Jeongguk just threw you under the bus just to stay in his alpha’s good books. But you’re thankful that when Jimin’s alpha side is angered, his more rational brain is hindered so he’s still trying to figure out the meaning of “help us out”. It takes him a while to arrive at the right conclusion.

“How would you even do that? You don’t mean…” his eyes finally drop to the front of your soaked shirt, and then he realises. “Are you… are you lactating?”

His eyes seem to grow a few shades darker as he takes in this new piece of knowledge. The two younger wolves visibly cower before Jimin.

“It-it was just so sweet and I thought it’d go well with oreos…” Jeongguk’s small voice pleads for leniency, but Taehyung elbows him hard in the ribs to shut up and stop making things worse.

“You tasted her already?” Jimin questions, his eyes shifting to Jeongguk and a low growl starting up in his chest.

“N-not straight from me obviously,” you laugh nervously as Jimin’s expression grows darker and darker. “I just collected some on my finger and…”

“Get out. Both of you.” Jimin’s tone brooks no arguments, and neither do the two wolves protest.

They nearly trip over each other in their haste to get to the door, and meanwhile you peel your sticky and wet shirt away from you in discomfort. Under his watchful gaze, you don’t dare to say a single word as you wait for your alpha to punish you as he deems fit.

“You let them taste you before me?” His tone of disbelief only adds to the undercurrent of fear that shoots down your spine. You should have realised this was a bad idea right from the beginning when Jimin was shooting you jealous looks.

“You never let me taste you before,” his anger dwindles down into a pitiful whine, and your heart softens.

“I’m sorry baby- I just…” You struggle to find the words that would appease both the human and alpha side of him.

But Jimin has long ago decided what he wants, and he kneels down in between your legs. “Since they tasted something of mine, I want to have something they’ll never have a chance to taste.”

His hands are on your thighs, gently spreading them apart as he pulls down your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. The scent of you immediately makes him salivate, though you’re not quite that wet yet. He starts by kissing your inner thighs, and the way he looks up at you over your rounded belly, eyes filled with hunger and need, is enough to make your breasts ache for his touch too.

You can feel your nipples leak a little more liquid, and you whine to draw his attention to them. You desperately want to feel his hands on your breasts, let him clean you up with his tongue.

“Nowyou want me?” Jimin watches as you desperately cup your own breasts as if to offer them to him. “Why should I get sloppy seconds? Why not get Jeongguk and Taehyung to suck on those for you?”

“No! Only want you,” you gasp as you pull your shirt up to expose your leaking nipples to him. The sight of you, round and full with his pups and leaking milk profusely, desperately whining his name is exactly the ego boost Jimin needs.

Without you realising, your thighs are now slick with arousal. Jimin pretends to ignore the agony you’re in and licks at your inner thighs instead, making his way toward your clit as he feasts on your pussy the way he likes it- messy, noisy till your arousal coats his chin. He spares you no mercy as he laves your clit with flat licks, two fingers gently spreading your lips and penetrating you shallowly.

You’re so close to your orgasm that you can feel it, but it’s not enough. You need to feel his mouth on your nipples, sucking the milk meant for his pups.

Thighs twitching and cheeks flushed, you reach down to grasp one of his hands desperately, needing to feel your alpha’s touch on you. Your breaths are coming in sobs in your chest; you feel like an absolute wreck. Breast leaking milk down over your rounded belly, thighs shaking and pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jimin, please!” You cry out, squeezing his hand hard, and that makes up pause in licking your clit and glance up with questioning look on his face.

“Please what?” He prompts, continuing to rub your clit. You know you won’t be able to cum like this, not unless you feel his mouth on your breasts.

“Suck me. Want you to taste the milk meant for your pups,” you admit in a small voice, utterly ashamed for having reached such levels of desperation.

Finally satisfied, Jimin smirks in victory as he rises to his feet, bending over so that his mouth reaches your breasts but keeping two fingers buried inside your cunt. His palm is snug against your clit as he keeps it still, and when he takes one nipple into his mouth, your walls clench around him in response. A few light suckles from him is all it takes to trigger your orgasm, and Jimin only moves his hand very minimally to help you ride it out.

“Dirty girl. All it took was a few sucks and you came all over my fingers,” Jimin is still licking his lips as he squeezes your other nipple, watching droplets of milk dribble out. “You’ll feed our pups so well.”

*** 

“Oh fuck,” you exhale as you rummage around your bag for the one essential item you can’t do without these days. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“What happened?” Jimin turns to you in alarm. “The pups are ok. We left them at my parent’s house for the weekend, remember?”

You turn and glare at him in annoyance. Does he think you’re an idiot? “It’s not about the pups.”

“Then what?”

“I forgot my breast pump, I must have left it there,” you sigh as you check your bag again to make sure it’s really not there. “I only have one, and it’s such a long drive back…”

“I’ll just ask them to bring it over in the morning,” Jimin says as he opens the door to let the both of you in. “It’s too late now for them to drive here…”

“I know, but Jimin…” your voice trails off in a whine, and your alpha turns to look at you with concern etched all over his face. You tell yourself that he can’t possibly understand what it’s like, and it’s natural that he would be this clueless. “I’m so full, I need to pump now. I can’t wait till tomorrow.”

“Oh.” He registers your situation, and his eyes begin to dart around in a panic. “Oh my god. I um… I don’t know anyone else who might have a breast pump. Do we have a spare at home? Should I run out and get one? But all the stores are already closed and-“

By now the tightness in your breasts almost makes it feel as if they’re going to burst if you don’t pump right this second. Maybe it’s because they’re half wolf, but breastfeeding four of Jimin’s brats has ensured that your supply is higher than the normal human female. Your breasts are constantly full and leaking, and you rely on your trusty pump at least four times a day.

Your bra feels unbearably tight, so you reach to undo it, and the material is already soaked with milk. Jimin’s eyes zero in on your nipples against your shirt immediately like the horndog he is, and you can almost see him start to salivate.

Letting him taste your milk while the pups weren’t out yet was one thing, but now that his four little bastards demand every single drop you can produce, you don’t have enough to spare to fulfil his fantasies. Besides, once Jimin gets a taste of your milk, he tends to become insatiable. But now, seeing as the pups are safely at your parent’s house with enough milk to last them the weekend…

“Get over here,” you demand as you sit down on the bed, taking off your top in one smooth motion. Your breasts are heavy and warm, and dying for some relief from the pressure. Jimin looks as if it’s his lucky day as he makes a beeline for the spot beside you, his hands cupping your breasts and massaging them.

You direct his mouth onto your left nipple, already imagining the sweet relief as his lips close around them. He sucks earnestly, and as milk floods his mouth, you sigh in pleasure, the soothing rhythm of feeding along with the feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple is all you’ve been waiting for.

Jimin has your full breast in his hand as he sucks greedily from you, once his mouth is full from the first few sucks, he glances up at you as if asking what you want him to do with the milk. He knows you usually store your extra milk for the pups, but…

You make eye contact with him, lips still wrapped around your nipple and cheeks rounded with your milk. Then you take pleasure in telling him something you’ve always wanted to say.

“Swallow it all.” You say, and Jimin obeys, and inwardly you do a dance of victory. How the tables have turned. All those times you gave him blowjobs and he put his thumb on your chin and asked you to swallow. Granted, you still think he got the better deal seeing as your milk tastes way better than his cum.

After a while, Jimin starts to develop a slight cramp in his neck, so he makes you lie down so he can position himself comfortably on his side, propped up by his arm as he continues to work at your breast. This act of feeding from you, the mother of his pups, has him feeling strangely vulnerable. Even though he’s no stranger to incorporating lactation into your bedroom play, something about today is different.

In fact, all these thoughts in his mind is making him hard, and involuntarily he grinds himself against your thigh.

You glance down to see the outline of his cock against his grey sweatpants, and with one arm wrapped around the back of his neck to keep him securely suckling on your breast, you reach down with the other to push down his pants and close your hand around his cock.

He mumbles a soft ‘fuck’ against your breast as you start to jerk him off, focusing your attention on his swollen head. The whole act is sinful- you feeding him milk meant for his pups while you jerk him off- but you can’t say it’s the most depraved thing you’ve ever done with Park Jimin.

Jimin detaches his lips once the flow of milk slows to a stop, and switches to the other breast. Your hand on his cock is getting him to his end far too quickly; it’s been ages since he last blew his load. The both of you have been so busy with all the pups that it was hard to get in some alone time.

“Can I ride you?” Your request comes out of nowhere, and it’s only then that Jimin notices that you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for quite some time.

“Fuck, get on my cock now,” he sits up and helps you push your skirt up, tearing your panties as you stroke his cock a few more times just to tease. “Slowly, we haven’t done this in a while.”

His warning makes you inch yourself cautiously onto his cock, feeling the stretch and burn. It’s the first time you’re feeling him inside you in a while, but your body remembers it and adjusts as you sink to his base. Jimin throws his head back and groans, hands tight around your waist as he clenches his thigh muscles in an effort not to cum.

“So fucking tight, even after you gave birth to all my pups,” he regains his composure to see how well your pussy takes his cock. “Should I keep you pregnant constantly? Hmmm? I think a round belly and tits leaking with milk is a good look on you.”

Your walls clench hard around him at the thought of it as you start to ride his cock slowly. The mention of milk has you pushing your other breast towards him, and Jimin gladly takes it into his mouth and starts to suckle once more. His hands help you to bounce gently on his cock as he continues to feed from your leaking breasts.

The harsh sucks from him are sending you closer and closer to your orgasm, but you can’t cum until he drains your breast. So Jimin works even harder to get every drop from you as he fucks into your cunt, wanting and needing you to cum first before he can seek his own pleasure.

He brings one hand up to pinch your nipple, causing a stream of milk to squirt onto his tongue as he gladly laps it all up. He continues the pressure on your breast as he milks you. “Look at you, riding my cock while I suck on your breasts. Look how fucking dirty you are. I bet you love it hmm? Love being the mother of my pups. Be a good girl and cum on my cock now so I can fill you up with even more babies.”

Jimin keeps sucking at your nipple as he reaches down to rub your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to come undone around him, his name on your lips as you walls squeeze tight around him. The warmth of your pussy contracting around him pushes Jimin over the edge as well as he spills his cum inside you. You collapse onto his chest as Jimin wraps his arms around you, still thrusting in and out to prolong his orgasm and motivated by habit to fuck his cum as deep as it can go inside you.

“How am I gonna feed your brats without thinking about just now?” You whine against his shoulder even as you feel his cock slowly slip out of you, and his thick cum starts to leak out.

“How am I gonna watch you feed them without wanting to fuck you?” Jimin muses back, his cock twitching at the thought. “You just look so fucking hot like that. They’re so lucky they get to suck on your breasts every day.”

He says this last sentence with a slight pout as he strokes through your hair.

But the feeling of his cum on your thigh makes you realise that you could easily get pregnant again this soon. “Shit, we didn’t use a condom! I’m not ready for more yet!!!”

“I’m so lucky to have you. You gave me such beautiful pups,” Jimin sighs happily, feeling as thought he is the luckiest man alive and oblivious to your annoyance as he grins like an idiot to himself. “I can’t wait for us to have more.”

[green-spear-of-causality]

Cú Chulainn(s) + Dogs Headcannons

All Cús would pet and care for any type of dog

Alter likes labs the best. The first time he met some, they would roll on their stomachs and look at him with the biggest eyes they could muster

He always gives in

Jeanne and Diarmuid often report seeing Alter go off into a Singularity, not knowing what he was doing and making theories behind it

"Maybe he's a gourmet chef and doesn't want anyone to know about it!"

"...Even I don't think that's the case, Jeanne..."

Fsn Cú is a fan of bloodhounds and golden retrievers and has the most dogs out of all of the Cús

Actually, place any big floofy doggo in front of him and he'll paw-sitively melt at the sight of them

Emiya thinks it's cute

Fsn Cú often brings frisbees, squeaky toys, and dog bones to them and watches them go at it. When they want him to join, he play-wrestles with them and cannot stop grinning for the rest of the day

The bloodhounds help him hunt some boars and even wyverns and he always rewards them with treats

The treats also go to the other dogs when they give him The Look

Proto Cú loves wolves and, like Alter, has a soft spot for labs

A black lab named Bucky is his partner-in-crime and will stick up for Proto without fail

Proto likes to sunbathe with Bucky and happened to stumble across Cascú's wolves one day while doing so

The wolves immediately took a liking to them and are often seen playing with Bucky

Cascú stumbles upon the four of them napping in an open field under the gentle rays of the sun

Cascú's dogs are - you guessed it - wolves. Although, a Pomeranian happens to stick to his side like glue and only deviates to receive pats from Proto Cú

Cascú makes sure that they never run out of food to eat. He also makes sure that they get outside at least thrice a day, supervising the trio to make sure none wander off

Imagine his surprise when he finds his younger counterpart with this wolves, a black lab napping by his side

The Pomeranian - named Aimilios by Asterios - trots up to them and curls by Proto's free side

"You're here, too?"

"...Yeah. Didn't know that you had a lab."

"Didn't know that you had wolves and this little guy. Even though hunting dogs are the way to go...I wouldn't trade Bucky for the world."

Cascú peers at Proto. "...Winter Soldier?"

Proto's face taking on a pink hue is the only answer he needs.

"Ooh, look at these beautiful lads!"

To be honest, Fsn Cú's sudden voice made both of them jump.

Alter sits down next to Aimilios, face scrunching as one of Cú's bloodhounds cheerfully licked his cheek. "Is this all of them?"

Cascú grins. It seemed like Alter already knew that they all had a dog or two. "Should be."

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve." Fsn Cú counts, chuckling as the last dog headbutts his hand. "Yep, all here!"

"Oi," Proto Cú complains without any real heat in his voice, Bucky perking up next to him at the smell of unfamiliar dogs. "I'm trying to nap here!"

"Then nap." Alter responded bluntly, Aimilios hopping into his lap as a chocolate lab (named Maple, although he'd never admit that it was his idea to name her that) curls up next to him. Cascú and Fsn Cú laugh as Proto pouts, the youngest of the group turning on his side so that his cheek brushed against the fur of one of Cascú's wolves.

Fsn Cú plops down and lets his dogs smother him. "Aren't you gonna sit down?"

Cascú knows he should. He knows that he needs a break, knows that there are bags under his eyes, knows that he's gone over 56 hours without rest, and knows that he's been working nonstop on his rune craft, but if he stops then he'll fall behind firepower-wise compared to the other Cús -

"Caster!" Proto Cú calls out. Cascú's head whips up, seeing that the other three are actively watching him now. He can feel the exhaustion sapping his strength to even properly stand; to cover it up, he lets his wolves divide him from the others as he rests his back against their fur.

He hears Fsn Cú huff in exasperation. "Over here, dumbass!"

Cascú can't even stand up. "Nah; I'm good here. Don't gotta see your faces - "

In a flash, Alter lands in front of him with Aimilios in hand. Cascú is shocked into near-silence; he doesn't even react when Fsn Cú and Proto Cú quickly follow Alter, Fsn Cú's expression holding an uncharacteristic amount of seriousness in it.

"Stand up."

This time, Cascú is quick to respond. "Pass."

Fsn Cú gives one look at Proto, and the next thing Cascú knows is that the two Lancers are pulling him to his feet.

"W-Wait - "

Cascú would've fell flat on his face if it wasn't for Fsn Cú's foresight and Proto Cú's reflexes. Fsn Cú hoisted the Caster over his shoulder, ignoring his protests as he kept walking. Proto Cú was about to follow when Alter's hand on his head stopped him. The Berserker nodded his head towards the literal dog pile and Proto Cú let out a sigh.

"...Okay."

Cascú is silent for the majority of their trek towards...well, he didn't know. "I am very close to hitting you with my staff."

Fsn Cú is unfazed, eyes forward despite feeling the glare from his Caster counterpart. "We're almost there. It should be right around here...a-ha!"

Caster could only see the road behind them. "What is it?" He grumbles, only for his eyes to widen when he's set down on hard wood and a fishing rod is thrust into his face.

Fsn Cú finally grins. "We're going fishing."

An hour passes with no bites. Cascú sighs, and wishes that at least his wolves were there to keep him company. Even though his Lancer counterparts were able to strike up amicable conversation with just about anyone, he preferred non-human companionship. Animals don't talk your ear off; they understand when you need space, and also make it clear when they themselves need it.

"So," Fsn Cú says as birds soar overhead, "mind telling me what the hell all that was about back there?"

"I wanted to rest, and yet you brought me here to fish." Caster replies, deflecting a direct answer. "Not that I'm complaining, though. I would've brought my own rod and my bucket if I knew beforehand."

Fsn Cú frowns disapprovingly, and Cascú vaguely feels like a scolded child. "You're always on our younger counterpart's case about getting enough rest. Why aren't you doing the same?"

Cascú's smile is tired. "I can't. You of all people should know why."

The Lancer sighs. "That doesn't make it any less right."

Cascú takes in a breath, and hesitates. How was he going to tell the Lancer that the issue that plagues Proto Cú is the same one as his own? The problem should be resolved, and yet he can't get over it -

Something nudged his arm. Cascú looks down to see Aimilios staring up at him, a certain black lab not too far behind as his wolves encircle him before settling down.

"You guys are fishing without us?!" Proto Cú's voice reaches them, the youngest Chulainn waving from his spot on Alter's shoulders as the Berserker carries two rods in his free hand. It amazes Cascú sometimes that the two are as thick as thieves; at first glance, their personalities wouldn't match up.

"Figured that we'd try our Luck before the bad luck charms showed up." Fsn jokes, and Alter growls in disdain as he set up their stations.

"Dogs and wolves got restless." He instead explains, and Cascú nods.

Thus, the four accumulate 14 fish between them in the span of 3 hours. Cascú feels a yawn coming, but the feeling of three gazes on him has the druid looking up.

"Why don't you get enough rest?" Proto tries, and Cascú feels like laughing because for as long as he's been summoned this was his system so he's used to it. Why was he burning out now, of all times?

Oops, that one slipped through. Cascú watches as Proto Cú's face falls, and internally kicks himself. Fsn Cú and Alter both look exasperated, and he briefly wonders if that's what he looked like to them whenever they did something stupid.

A push. The rod falls out of Cascú's hands as the druid was forced to lay against one of his wolves, another hand placing itself over his eyes and obscuring his vision.

"You're always watching out for the younger Servants in Chaldea." Fsn Cú says in a gentler tone than normal. Cascú feels a weight lean on both sides of him, Proto Cú's surprisingly fluffy hair tickling his cheek as Alter shifts so that his spikes aren't in danger of piercing both him and his wolves.

Fsn Cú's voice draws his attention again. "It's time someone looked after you for a change, after all. Leave it to us!"

...Oh. Cascú pulls his hood over his face to hide his warm and now wet cheeks, a slight smile on his face. Maybe...I can let myself rest, for a change.

[laws-hat-headcanons]

10 + 10

I realised after I had posted this that I did it on a reblog that was already pretty long... so I have now done a separate post to try and make it smaller! Sorry! 

I was tagged twice to do this and was writing out my answers when Coop tagged me AGAIN!! So I am sorry to all of you, this is long and you're going to learn more about me than you probably wanted to!!

Answer 10 questions then add 10 of your own: 

@lucynnamonroll thank you for the first Tag flower!

1. A dream that you still remember?

I dreamt once that someone was chasing me and my dog and they bit me, took a big chunk out of my arm. And then my dog gave me this big blue fruit and my arm grew back. My dreams are always very strange.

2. What job did you want to do when you were younger?

I wanted to be a vet but I am way too emotional around poorly animals and also not smart enough to learn how to treat them haha!

3. And now? Did it has changed?

Yeah, I don't think I was ever cut out to be a vet. I'd like to work with animals though, maybe kennels or something? Zoo Keeper would be cool.

4. A favorite game?

I'm gonna take this as video game... There are a lot. I love Mass Effect and Dragon age, Gears of War... but Horizon Zero Dawn was amazing. I loved every single thing about it. Beautiful game, great story – just.. chefs kiss

5. Where did you have traveled? (Either it’s in your country or not)

I've been a few places- France, Spain, Somewhere else hot but I can't recall where... Ireland, Scotland. I was supposed to have gone to Bulgaria at the beginning of May but Coronavirus done fucked me over.

6. Did you have a totem animal/a favorite animal?

Ever since I was about 6 wolves have been my favourite animals. I originally started drawing so I could create a wolf fursona …. siiigghhh

7. Did you/Do you have a teddy bear to help you to sleep? How it was looking?

Yes, a little dog called Custard. He is a beige colour with brown ears but is still in pretty good condition. He sits on my desk chair when I'm not using it.

8. THE animated (or not) serie of your childhood/teenage years?

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES – heroes in a half shell, turtle power!! I was also hella into Dragon Ball Z on Toonami when I was a kid. I remember we went to see some family up north and they didn't have Toonami and I cried because it was mid way through the Buu arc and I was gonna miss it.

9. Do you have anime/series/movie/whatever things merch?

I have a few bits. A Hatake Kakashi figure, one for Katakuri and Zoro. A heart Pirates hoodie. I think I have Kid's wanted poster somewhere...

10. How was your day?

Oh. It was a day. I slept through most of it. My energy/motivation levels are pretty low at the moment. But it was sunny, so that was nice.

@luffytarhoe thank you for my second tag!! 💙

1- What’s your favorite show/anime of the moment ?

I don't watch a huge amount of anime despite the focus of this blog. So probably One piece on that front. Otherwise I am watching Outlander atm, which is pretty good but there is sooooo much sex. An ungodly amount of sex.

2- What type of music are you into?

My music tastes are quite varied. I like stuff that you can listen to and put into a situation, so usually sad stuff where I can imagine I am the main character weeping over the bodies of my fallen comrades. Also Goo Goo Dolls!

3- If you could have one superpower , what would it be ?

Probability, or luck. Like Domino in Deadpool. That's always been such a cool concept to me.

4- What’s your favorite color ?

Blue and all it's hues. Maybe teal if I had to get specific.

5- Do you prefer animated or live action shows/series ?

I am happy with both. Though some animated shows should stay animated – looking at you ATLA...

6- Do you believe in ghosts ?

I believe that energy never disappears, only changes forms and I don't think that's any different for whatever happens to people energy once we die. I'm a big wimp though so it's easier for me not to believe in them!

7- Do you speak any foreign language(s) ? if yes which ones ?

No, sadly I never had a talent for languages. I'd love to speak Gaelic though.

8- Your n°1 fictional character ?

Probably Stone from the Raksura book series. He's just a fun grumpy old shapeshifting man.

9- Would you say you’re more of an extrovert or an introvert?

Definitely an introvert. I like me time. And all my hobbies are single person hobbies so that doesn't help haha.

10- What was the best vacation you ever took and why?

I haven't been on holiday in over 10 years but we went to a zoo in Spain once and a Monkey sat on my head. That was pretty rad.

@doctorgerth and finally, thank you for my 3rd tag!!

1. What are your zodiac signs (sun, moon, rising, if you know them) and do you think they fit you pretty well?

I am an Aries and that is pretty much the extent of my knowledge on the subject. Aries are meant to be pretty hot headed and outgoing and I can only really claim to be one of those thing and only when I need to be. So no, I'm not sure it fits me.

2. What is your favorite clothing item and/or accessory?

I don't reallllly care a lot about clothes and or stuff. So I guess either my glasses because I need them to see long distances (and to drive) or my phone if that counts as an accessory because that has all my crap on it.

3. Any future children or pet names?

Noooooooooooooo and no

4. If you could meet anyone (can be past, present, future, real, or fictional) who would it be?

I would have liked to have met Steve Irwin I think. He seemed pretty chill and I grew up watching Crocodile Hunter on TV so he was a big hero of mine for a long time. Also the Rock or Jason Mamoa because of reasons....

5. Brag on yourself! What’s something you love about yourself?

I am passably amusing and guess I write okay too haha

6. What is a movie or show that you could rewatch a million times and never get tired of?

The film Evolution is endlessly funny to me and it makes me laugh every time I watch it. I used to have it on VHS and I kept a video player in the house to watch it until my cousin got it for me on DVD (Yes I am old.)

7. What is your favorite album of all time?

I haven't listened to it in a long time but I really loved Maroon 5 – Songs about Jane.

8. Do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens? If you have stories to back up, plz share.

I want to belllieeveeeeee! Ghosts, yes, hesitantly but I think I answered that in a previous one. Aliens 100% because I refuse to believe that we are the only sentient life the universe. It's just... statistically impossible.

9. What do you do/who do you look to for inspiration?

I guess human being wise my mum is my inspiration for a lot of things? She's just a lovely person and she's very kind and sweet. I am very aware that we are not much alike, but I look to her as the sort of example of a good person. Creativity wise it's just a clusterfuck of books and badly organised pinterest boards.

10. What is your happiest memory?

Practically anything that has my nephews in it I guess. They're just... hilariously weird little dudes and I love them so much. They always make me laugh.

And here are my questions!!

1. What is your favourite book?

2. What is you most loved item and why?

3. If you got the chance to travel to another planet (knowing you would never see your friends or family again) would you do it?

4. One song that makes you cry?

5. Do you believe in supernatural stuff? Ghosts and Monsters and Fairies? Any experiences with it?

6. What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever witnessed or had happen to you?

7. What one thing would you buy if you had the money?

8. What is your worst habit/personality trait?

9. If you could alter your body with one cool feature, what would it be? (camera eyes, monkey tail, etc)

10. Do you have the patience to play a full game of Monopoly with no breaks?

I'll tag @pinkhatlizzy @nakunakunomi @lirulee @one-piece-dumpster-fire and anyone else who wants to answer my dumb questions!! Tag me because if you decide to do it so I can see your answers 💙

[darkdevasofdestruction]

OC asks - YuGiOh & Assassins Creed

OH YES, THIS IS GONNA BE FUN~!

--- YU-GI-OH

1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves green! It’s a calming colour that highlight her eyes and gives her a more alluring look.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

Not sure if it counts, as she doesn’t collect physical things, but she loves to take pictures of everything that makes her happy and look at them from time to time.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

Idiocy. 

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Black jeans, with a regular green top, a black vest-like trench coat and knee length black boots, so pretty basic.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Uhhhh......Like, as a child?  I suppose it’d be when her mother smiled at her and gave her the family heirloom, the Millennium Medallion.

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves all animals, but at first, she loved Wolves the most, since she thought it would suit her loner personality. Her least favourite animal were, ironically, foxes, because her father blamed every mistake on her and her ironic name.  That is, until she meets Seto and Mokie, and becomes friends with Yugi’s group, who taught her that instead of listening to the bad stuff, she should make her own name meaning, and since then, she wore her name and spirit animal proudly.

7. What element would your OC be?

BYFIREBEPURGED

Well, if we go by elements meaning, I think either Earth, because she is a nurturing and healing person who helps others without realising. Either that, or water, because she is calm and relaxes people, but she can also become an outright tsunami.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Too Late” by Dead by Sunrise, since it shows how desperate she was to find an escape from the darkness she succumbed to once her mother and younger sister were killed in a car accident and she was left under the strict hand of her father who had inhumane expectations of her and wanted only perfection and for her to follow the path he dictates.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

I never thought of that, to be fair? For voiceclaims no, but I imagine her to have a pretty versatile voice, feminine and casual most of the time, but can go low enough to either sound alluring or have a hint of poison darkness.

As for face claims, while creating my Game of Thrones OC, I stumbled upon this picture and she’s been my “faceclaim” if I can’t do a drawing of her, or if the fandom doesn’t have anime/cartoon characters, but real people.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

For a long time, I’m pretty sure it would be Envy, because she’s see happy people with no family issues, and envies them so much, having dark thoughts about them.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

Games of all kinds, travelling, staying in the nature, relaxing outside.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

She’s incredibly patient with everyone and everything, in most situation, but can’t handle bad behaviour and dumb questions, especially if repeated, and especially if she’s tired, concentrating or the repetition of the conditions is a much too high number.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl, but I haven’t thought of her sexuality or romantic orientation before, since she’s only ever attracted to Seto.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

She loves any kind of home-made food, but can’t stand some sea-food dishes.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Do foxes count?  If not, dogs and snakes would be her first options.

16. What does your OC smell like?

Okay, so, there’s this perfume and shower gel that I love so much and they smell SO good, like chocolate...So yes, that exactly.

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

She’s a student, so she has no actual job, but her dream job revolves around technology - Either a programmer or a game developer, both options, later, allowing her to work together with Seto.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She’s afraid of being manipulated and controlled again, insects and loneliness. Her biggest weakness is her kindness and the fact that she has a hard time denying anyone’s requests, so she can very often be walked all over, if someone doesn’t interfere. Her strengths are her perseverance and ambition that keep her going on and not giving up.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

She loves rock, trap and indie songs mostly, and has a hard time choosing only one song, but one of them would be Scorpions - “Still Loving You”.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

Honestly, the Yu-Gi-Oh world is pretty similar to ours, so I don’t think it would be a huge problem to adapt, and would try to make friends and pursue her dreams.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

Apart from her family issues with her mother and younger sister dying and her father being a controlling jerk? She gets pretty restless when she feels something is wrong, and would go in an overly-protective mode and often get herself in trouble.

Her pet peeves are when people chew too loud, being too loud in general, people looking at her phone and people who aren’t punctual or go back on their promises.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

“The Nerd” trope. Straight As, loner, shy, but that’s mostly because of her father and how he’d punish her if she didn’t do perfect, and would move her to other schools/cities each year, depending on where his business would lead him.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

Her hair has more personality than she has. No matter how much she tries, she can’t get it nice and neat, so she stopped caring and leaves it as untameable as it wants it to be.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She’s a realist that can often slide down to pessimism or fatalism, as she doesn’t actually have any experience in the real world and is afraid of failing  and ruining everything around her.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

Honestly? She’s based on me and how I really am or I’d want to be, in a way. I love how I look with red hair, and I love foxes and their various portrayals and meanings, so I used them to create Kitsune, but instead of giving her black eyes, like I have, I gave her green eyes, like emeralds, to give her that touch of mysterious seductive aura around her.

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

The most important person ALIVE in her life is Seto, because he was the one to take her away from her father and show her they are more than their bad parenting and tragic backstory. (Basically, after some exam results were showed, and she didn’t get the marks he expected, her father went to the principal’s office and realising the girl was using her mother’s old Duel Monsters, proceeding on lighting it on fire, making the girl freak out and put the slightly aflame deck in the principal’s aquarium, before having an outright breakdown, only for Seto to get mad and sass out the father, who was supposed to be a future business partner. When she left the school, she saw Seto and went to thank him, but he only asked if she wanted to babysit Mokuba for a short period of time when he’ll be in another country with business, and from then on, they bond.) On the other hand, the least important person, who still impacts her life, is her father, for the reasons stated before.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

Does it count as your usual sob story? Because until she was 13, her childhood was the dream childhood, but when her mother died, it all went down the drain.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She tends to wet and bite her bottom lip a lot, she always walks out with earphones and music at max volume to avoid anxiety, walks fast when alone, focuses on her phone to combat the same anxiety and awkwardness, and when impatient or focused, she plays with a strand of her hair, drums her fingers on the table (she likes it when she hears the tapping of her nails), or bounces her leg.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

Game over. Respawn time : 3...2...1...

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She can’t stand children, they annoy her very much and especially doesn’t want to go through the whole childbirth mess, or have her child hate her. As for marriage...She is afraid of marriages, of rather said, of the possible heartbreak of a divorce, but she wouldn’t actually mind having a dream/fairy tale like small wedding, to make everything beautiful and ethereal.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her most traumatic experience is hearing that her mother and sister got in a car accident, and while her mother was killed on the spot, her sister died in the hospital, in front of her, not long after giving her her favourite Duel Monsters card : Madolche Cruffsant , just because it was hella cute.

Her favourite memory is either her mother teaching her Duel Monsters, or her reading her Disney Princess stories.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her mother and sister back to life.

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’d only kill in self-defense or to save someone else, otherwise, the farthest she’d go, is a hell of a beating.

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

In a group of friends, she’s the moral and emotional support of the group, as well as the one to attempt to stop others from doing impulsive and reckless decisions.

In a game, she’d be the healer, priest, shaman or white mage.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Her imagination goes through the roof, as she always day-dreams about literally everything and anything and reads a lot. Yeah, she does worry a lot and lives in the past, but she’s trying to work on it.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She needs affections, validation and comfort. (Give her a hug pls) She’s used without it, so she wouldn’t do anything physically/aggressively to obtain it, but it’s eating her alive when she’s overthinking and doubting herself. Other than that, she knows she can obtain everything she wants by herself and just a bit of work.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

I don’t think she does anything special that she does and others don’t... But she likes to carry Mokuba on her shoulders.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

Would make sure she doesn’t have to depend on anyone’s money, since she can’t stand being a burden to anyone, and would use the rest to make even more money, so one day, when she’ has a proper and constant living, she could help create animal shelters and donate to different charities.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Bubbly soda, water, chocolate and food in the fridge. A fluffy carpet on the floor and nothing else. Her laptop, a bottle of water and a bag of snacks. Fruit remains, empty snacks bags and other random useless things.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s going on a calm walk on the shore, barefeet, with Seto, feet in water and letting the breeze mess up her hair even more. Kitsune’s wearing a soft coloured flowery patterned  dress that’s above the knee, it’s flowy and somehow transparent with an underskirt, and the sleeves are long and loose, all the paired with a pair of sneakers that she can easily take off, knowing she’s going to the beach.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

It takes a LOT to make her to visibly show her anger, but she’s going to become extremely verbally aggressive, insulting, sarcastic, barely able to keep herself from getting physical.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

Nope, she’s clean.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb your ego and jump down to your IQ, that’s lower than your shoe size. In fact, it’s non-existent, much like my respect for you. Get the hell out of my sight, can’t you see nobody wants you here? You’re going to be missed like the leprosy.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

If it’s not actually an insult or a rude remark, she’ll listen and see what she can do with the advice, more more often than not, she still does whatever she thinks it’s right.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

She never tried pineapple pizza, so she’s not sure how she’d react, but it’s just 1 slice, so it won’t kill her. She’s not a huge pineapple fan though.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works? She takes a needle and gently pokes her hand, and if it’s actually true, she’s gonna keep that doll a secret for safe-keeping, so nobody will ever be able to use it.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not THE best artist in the world, but she draws cute things like flowers from time to time to relax. As well as that, she draws flowery borders on her notebook pages.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

I already talked too much about her father, but her mother was a sweet and kind soul, and incredibly ambitious and playful and competitive, which is why she won countless gaming competitions. Her mother’s angelic soul and kindness was the way she wanted to grow to be, and whenever she gets angry, she gets reminded of her father and hates herself for doing something he does that she hates so much.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She loves sweets, but she doesn’t feel the need to eat too many, especially at the same time, so she doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she get hyper.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She would cry a lot and would try anything in her power to alter her fate, but if it isn’t possible, she’ll try to spend as much quality time with Seto, Mokie and Yugi’s gang as possible.

---

ASSASSINS CREED

I haven’t gotten around to actually drawing anything for AC unfortunately, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get around to do it ^^”

---

1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves Green and Blue, but the longer she stays in Masyaf, the more she misses the beautiful shade range of purple and lavender.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

In her time, she didn’t collect anything, but when she traveled back in time to Masyaf’s 1191 timeline, she started picking different flowers, pressing them in an empty tome that Malik gifted to her, and together with him, she would draw the flower on the other page, and write information about the plant in cause, with the help of her beloved Malik, both in her language and in his.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

As to quote a line from the Secret Crusade novel...

“Stupid Altair. Arrogant Altair. He was in trouble.”

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

During her time, in the Japanese Brotherhood, as she is the Master Assassin of the Stealth branch, she wears mostly black, light clothes that allow her to sneak around, spy, snipe and blend in.

In Masyaf time, she had to wear the usual male Assassin outfit that literally engulfs her, which is really annoying as she can’t play to her strengths, so she has to fight quite a lot to get some practical adjustments to the outfit, and ones that won’t attract civilian nor templar unwanted attention.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Her elder brother singing this song to her : LULLABY

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves foxes so much. She knows she looks like one, and she uses everything to her advantage, and since she doesn’t actually remember her real name, she chose “Kitsune” as her assassin name.

Also, keep spiders away from her, or she’ll feel her soul leave her body in a split second.

7. What element would your OC be?

Fire. Without a speck of doubt. She’s a little, smug firecracker.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Demons” by Starset works pretty well, as whilst she’s a strong person, she still has moments of weakness and needs someone by her side, before she loses control of herself and become someone she’d hate.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

Same person as before. I don’t know who she is, but she’s my muse.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

I believe Pride is going to give her a looot of trouble.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

She loves ice skating, singing, dancing in the moonlight and chilling on the grassy ground, watching the clouds pass by.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

This little firecracker is somewhere in the middle ground, because yes, she is definitely patient in a lot of circumstances, but Gods, when she gets angry or impatient, you can literally see fire around her.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl who never thought of love, as she was married to her work as an assassin, but when she arrives in Masyaf, she falls in love with Malik Al’Sayf.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

Cherries! She loves fruits in general, but she LOVES to seductively eats strawberries or tie cherry steam knots! On the other hand, she won’t eat anything that looks weird or not aesthetic.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Give this girl a horse, she loves feeling the feeling of wind in her face as she feels the horse speeding up! It’s like she’s on a motorbike again, but a bit different!

16. What does your OC smell like?

Vanilla and Roses <3

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

Kitsune is the Master Assassin of the Japanese Brotherhood’s Stealth Branch, so it’s needless to say that she gets her pay from this.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She fears getting close to anyone, only to have them dying on her again, just like her parents and older brother. Her weaknesses are her physical strength, her fear of the unknown and the fear of failure. She is small, fast and agile, has an amazing sight and always does her job at perfection, thanks to her ruthlessness, and can easily seduce and manipulate people with words and a simple bat of her long lashes.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

Give her the loudest rock music and the best trap and dubstep remixes, she loves the energy she gets from those kids of songs.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

She is from our world...Sort of, so she won’t have too much of a problem living her life at leisure.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

She has a hard time straying from the rules or showing mercy because she’s been brought up by the Brotherhood since she was 7. Her parents died at such a young age (as they too were assassins) that she doesn’t remember them, and the man who took care of her, as per her parents’ death wish, died when she had to assist him on her first mission, at 12 years old, which was a chaos and he died saving her so she could make sure the mission was a success.

Her pet peeves are people getting too close to her when talking, breathing too loudly, children misbehaving and slow internet.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

She didn’t actually go to a regular school, but was trained and taught by the brotherhood, where she was an incredibly perfectionist and diligent student.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

She absolutely L O V E S to playfully flirt with people she likes, which makes Malik the one to endure all her flirting.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She doesn’t care if she dies or not, as long as she’s happy. She’s an assassin, she’s been fearless for as long as she can remember.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

I love Malik, I want someone to flirt a lot with him, I flirt a lot with my friends, and hell, Kitsune, as I said, she basically myself with green eyes and maybe better make up skills. 

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them that still has an impact and why?

The most important person in her life that is alive is Malik now, as her “Elder brother” died, and she never got personally close to anyone in the brotherhood, only professionally.

There’s nobody who really influences her negatively, apart from her own self and her perfectionism/over-thinking or the brotherhood creed.

You could say that, half-jokingly, her least favourite person is Altair because he’s a jerk who caused Malik to lose his arm and Kadar to die, but she forgives him when she sees true redemption in him.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

It was a pretty basic childhood, her elder brother taking care of her while studying and training for the brotherhood, and for her, that was normality so nothing was weird.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She bites her lip very hard, until the point she draws blood, she cracks her knuckles a lot and she has a sort of internet addiction that went down the drain when she went back in time and realised her Brotherhood wouldn’t/couldn’t bring her back in her times.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

I went down in the flames of success, so better throw my ashes in the Haunted Mansion from Disneyland Paris, or I’m gonna haunt everyone.

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She’s an assassin, so she sees no reason to marry, or worse, have children, which she can’t stand. However, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want to to wear a pretty dress, have a nice hairstyle and make up and dance in the moonlight, alone, with Malik. It’s the closest she would get to a normal, domestic family.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her brother dying in front of her, and him yelling for her to finish the mission and return to the Brotherhood, otherwise they’d kill her is a scene that still haunts her every nightmare.

On the other hand, her favourite memory is her brother singing to her that Lullaby, something which she took up and would sometimes sing to Malik, or would sneak out at night and sing while dancing by herself, trying to find a bit of freedom and sense of self.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her brother back...And maybe some fucking WiFi and electricity...And a bathtub...With bath bombs...And scented candles...

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’s an assassin who struggles with showing mercy, need I say more?

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

She’s the one who flirts and jokes a lot, I guess you could say she’s the popular girl stereotype?

In an RPG, she’d be the assassin, rogue or even warlock or necromancer, without a doubt.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

She doesn’t have too much time to day-dream, but now that she’s stuck in the past, she has more free time to do nothing but imagine random scenarios that would never happen.

Kitsune doesn’t live in the past or future, she lives in the moment...In a way that is borderline robotic and as if she tries to forget the fact that she’s human at all.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She wants to find a life that won’t bind her to the Brotherhood in a way that she’d have to sacrifice everything for it. She wants a normal life that still has some of the assassin thrill, but not the risks...Keep the adrenaline though, she hates getting bored.

She doesn’t know yet what or how to achieve this utopia, but perhaps the fact that she’s in the past, with a Brotherhood that she’s not officially part of, might prove enough for her.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

Does anyone flirt in Assassins Creed 1? Because if they don’t, Kitsune does A LOT.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

She’d take Malik with her and travel the world, exploring every inch of it, away from everybody she knows, and going to all theme and amusement parks.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Her laptop, phone and tablet on the nightstand, along with a water bottle and food. She has notebooks and ink and feathers on the ground next to her bed, since she’s usually too lazy to go to the table. There’s...No fridge in Masyaf, unfortunatelly...No more chocolate or ice cream... Lots of sketches and messed up scrolls in the trash.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s so used to wearing either assassin or sexy clothes, that she chooses to wear something so simple and casual, like a pair of sneakers and a simple sundress, taking Malik on a walk at night, as during the day she wouldn’t really be able to dress as revealing, in public.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

She tries to calm herself, but when she can’t help herself, she’d either go physically or verbally violent and harsh, depending on the gravity of the situation.

It doesn’t take long to piss her off, but it takes a LOT to actually get her to lose her temper.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

She has a scar on the left side of her face, going from the forehead, to her eye and down to the middle of her cheek, because of the accident in Solomon’s Temple when she sneaked to get the artifact.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“Tell me… Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted? Why Don’t You Slip Into Something More Comfortable. Like A Coma? Wait, don’t worry, I can help with that. Whatever permission you thought you had to speak to me, I hereby remove. Honestly, did I ask you anything? No? Good, because nobody asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

Can’t take it, especially if it’s not sugar coated or said in a gentle way, so she could understand it’s not an insult or an attack, but a suggestion.

She’d do whatever she wants regardless.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

Pick up the pineapple slices, throw them at Altair’s face, then eat the pizza slice with no problem.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?

Would keep it safer than her own heart and would try to track down whoever did the doll, in order to kill them. She doesn’t need potential killers on her case.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not too bad, but she likes drawings plants, animals and landscapes, which is why she likes to draw every plant she collects. On the other hand, she can’t doodle when absent-minded, she only taps the front of the pen on the table or paper.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

She didn’t really know them, as they died when she was too young, so they didn’t exactly affect her in any way. They weren’t bad people, despite being assassins, but as far as she heard around the Brotherhood, they were diligent, intelligent and reliable, so she was proud to be their daughter.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she eat too many sweets at once, but if she’s in a playful mood, she can get a bit more energetic than usual.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She’d try to see if it can be avoided, but if not, not a big deal for her. She’d just do the weirdest things possible and spend quality time with Malik and Altair, maybe even trying to make the Masyaf Brotherhood a better place, teaching them new healing methods and whatever...If she was in a good mood, at least.

[misfiredsynapse]

wounded

someone binged the Witcher on Netflix and this spilled out

i regret nothing

warnings: blood, implied relationships (past), heavy wounds, implied violence. I don’t know the lore as well as i should so if i’ve cocked anything up, a wizard did it

Wounded

Tales of monsters haunting the village reached her ears long after the true danger began. From her little hut on the edge of the forest, it was easy to know when the beast began to prowl. She had reinforced her wards and kept herself very far from its usual trail. The village had collection plate going around to hire someone to deal with it. They had asked for a donation and she had given, though she wondered when the Lord planned to actually help his people.

Her little hut- the witch’s cottage- squatted in a glen on the edge of an unending wood. Where spooks and spectres lurked, where ghosts and ghouls wailed through the night. She had a reputation for healing, but only in the daylight. The few brave souls who had dared try to breach her door at night had seen a very different witch.

Smoke and mirrors. Necessary. Small towns bred small minds and she had no intention of letting them get the idea that they’d be better off without her.

It was so very tedious to start over.

The first she heard was that the mayor- in name only, for he was as dirt poor as the rest of them- had managed to find a foolhardy soul to send up against the beasts. A man and his bard companion, each likely to die. She had thought of them as little more than a sacrifice. A sacrifice meant to sate the appetite of monsters and keep the villagers alive one more night.

She had built a good life here. Simple, outcast, not quite belonging, but good enough. Townsfolk left her mostly alone until they had a problem they couldn’t fix on their own, and they made good deals when they asked her out of her hut. Nobody wanted to end up in her cauldron next- for as the rumour went, she would kidnap those who angered her and cook them for her dinner.

Quaint little stories and she did nothing to dissuade them. It kept thieving hands out of her garden at the very least.

From her hut, she had heard the fight. Bloodcurdling death screams of the beast, ending in resounding silence. She had sighed and peered out her window to judge the time. Still hours until daybreak. She didn’t expect visitors until the sun penetrated her shadowy glen- that is, if the mayor had been a good sport and delivered her message.

Without knowing what manner of monster lurked, she had no idea what it would be good for. Such a mystery rankled, and she had paid a hefty sum to ensure the monster’s corpse would be delivered fresh and bleeding in the morn. If the Witcher was gone by then, she wouldn’t complain. Especially if… rumours of white hair and golden eyes had flown over her head. Deliberately, perhaps. It had been over a decade since they parted ways and she had heard little of him since. If she was being honest, she had been glad of the reprieve. He was intense, he was overwhelming, and wherever he went tended to change just by his presence.

As if on cue, there came a horrid pounding at her door. Followed by pleading screams and muffled curses, the desperation pulled her from her languid chair. She peered through the window at the shadowy men waiting outside- a smaller figure holding a much larger, clearly unconscious one. The younger was the source of the noise. The other hung like a fresh kill off his back.

No monster, though.

With a disappointed click, she opened the door. “Please!” the young man cried, the moment her light spilled across his face. “He’s hurt, we need your help!” And he shifted his shoulders to reveal his burden. White hair, rugged face, familiar in all its lines- her heart stilled for several uncertain beats. He was pale- almost as white as his hair- and as he hung off his friend’s shoulders, she could see the pool of blood gathering beneath him.

She blinked herself into action. “Bring him in, quickly,” she said. With a wave of her hand she cleared space before the fire, laying out an old rug she didn’t mind ruining. “What got him?”

The signs had all been there. All the cats in the village mysteriously dying, one by one; the dogs growing stronger and fiercer with the proximity of a leader. Packs of wolves roaming closer, hunting livestock like it was their right.

“Werewolf,” said the boy, who looked doubly pale now that he wasn’t the only thing supporting the Witcher. “It had friends.”

She paused. “Friends?” she asked. If there was a pack of them- it wouldn’t bode well for the village. One cursed lycanthope was enough, but if the cursed one was deliberately infecting others… “Werewolves?”

“I don’t know,” the boy’s voice shook a little. “But there were so many.”

Her mouth twitched. She used to tease, when they were younger, that all he would never be rid of her. All she had to do was follow the corpses- monster and human alike- like following the rainbow for a pot of gold.  Funny how the world worked. She stopped chasing him only to have him stumble upon her. The only gold at the end of her bloody rainbow was in his eyes.

Eyes that were currently crusted shut with blood, while the rest of him seemed determined to bleed out on her floor. The bard who had dragged him here- young, eager, but desperately unqualified for the life he had chosen- stood by the door, fighting the vomit rising in his throat.

She looked up at the boy, narrowed her eyes, and pointed at the door. “Fetch me water from the well, just outside, and a handful of dandelions and peppermint from the greenhouse beyond. Hurry!”

He nodded and was gone. With his nervous energy gone, she refocussed on the dying man. Her hands shook as she pressed them over his wounds. Deep and oozing, smelling of rot and death- she had not missed this smell. It would be another scar painted on his body, another story of a thankless task. In his younger days he had celebrated the scars. Another tale, another dead monster, another bag of gold at his hip. But people were rarely thankful for long.

Witchers were, by their very nature, unsettling to behold. Creatures able to stare into the black expanse of the void and kill the monsters lurking within.

She flattened her hands against the worst of the cuts and began to mutter a chant. She could feel the healing begin to take effect; her own body taking the brunt of his hurt to heal him faster. Between his gifts and hers, there would be naught but a scar in just a few days.

“Do you have a fucking death wish?” she hissed, at the first sign of him stirring. One golden eye cracked open, swept the room, and settled on her. The groan he made might have been pain if she didn’t know exactly how much magic was in his system. His head fell back on the threadbare pillow.

“It’s good to see you, Flissa.”

“Fuck off, no it isn’t.”

Geralt’s mouth twitched. “You sound stressed.”

She resisted the urge to smack him. “You bring it out in me,” she said sharply.

“My apologies, then.” His eyes remained closed and she listened to the rhythm of his breath until it levelled, and he slipped into a true, deep sleep. She allowed herself a moment to study his face. Unchanged, but that was hardly a surprise. Magic was in his blood as sure as it was in hers. They did not age or change as a normal human would. Still a rugged jaw, a strong nose, his long hair as white as virgin snow.

Her eyes dipped to the hem of his shirt, torn to ribbons. Beneath was an expanse of skin she had once known by heart. Years ago, she could have mapped his scars with her eyes closed. She wondered how many new ones he had earned since then- and promptly tore her mind from the subject. He was not hers to know like that, not anymore.

Knowing him like that had been the thing to drive her off. Terrified of what it meant to connect that deeply with another, refusing to let it grow between them. She had run, she had left.

And he had let her.

The door opened with a swift bang and she was on alert at once. Geralt didn’t stir; perhaps a more worrying sign than his bleeding. The depth of his slumber did draw her concern.

The returning bard dropped a pail of water at her feet and held out a large bunch of dandelions. “Are these enough?” he asked, anxious. “Will he live? Do you need anything else?”

Flissa took the bundle in both hands and nodded. “That’s fine. Sit down, boy, before you pass out.”

The bard refused to move without an answer. “Is he going to be alright?” he asked again, firmer.

“Yes,” she said; and he sank into the nearest chair in relief, holding his head in both hands. Flissa’s heart panged with empathy for him. She was him, once, before she mastered her craft; a terrified companion to a man determined to fling himself through death’s door at a moment’s notice. The singular reason why she became a healer was Geralt of Rivia.

Flissa set the dandelions in a bag and hung it in the window. She fetched dried leaves and added the fresh water to the kettle, setting it on the fire to brew. The rest of the water she heated with a whispered spell and returned, cloth in hand, to Geralt’s side. Getting the blood off his skin was significantly easier than getting it out of his clothes.

How very fortunate that she had kept a shirt in his size.

“Help me get him up,” she said to the boy. He was still pale, still shaking- in shock- but he reacted instantly. His arms under the Witcher’s shoulders, hers under his legs. Somehow, between them, they moved the man to her bed. “Where’s his horse?” she asked.

The bard raised an eyebrow. Connecting the dots at once, he had the sense not to ask but this one was a damn sight smarter than the average. “At the tavern, three days paid.”

“When the sun rises, bring him here.”

“But the wolves…”

“Are gone,” she assured, gentling her tone if only slightly. “With the Weres dead, the rest will scatter.” She returned to the kettle when it began to boil. Dandelion tea with peppermint- to calm his nerves. Flissa slid the steaming mug onto the table beside him. “Sugar and honey are behind you.”

His head rose. Eyes lingered on Geralt, then to the tea. “Thank you…?”

“Flissa,” she said, taking the hand he offered.

“Jaskier,” he said.

She lifted an eyebrow in his direction. “Bless you.”

His mouth twitched. “My name is Jaskier.”

“You are welcome, then,” she nodded. “How does a bard end up travelling with a Witcher?”

“I wanted adventure and he strolled into town. I’m still not sure he likes me.”

“He’s like that with everyone.”

A pause, in which the boy stared at his friend. “You do know him,” he said quietly; curious, without wishing to outright ask. Flissa could see the questions bubbling but his reluctance to anger her held his tongue. The villagers likely warned him off coming anywhere near her. As if the ‘witch in the woods’ asking for a dead monster corpse wasn’t warning enough.

“For years,” she confirmed. “I used to travel with him.”

“Why did you stop?”

She shrugged, gestured to her little cottage. “I fancied myself suited to the quiet life.”

Jaskier smiled in acknowledgement, but there was a glint in his eye when he asked; “And does it suit you?”

“It’s… very quiet,” said Flissa, but that little pause said it all.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

Queen in the North {Pt. 4}

Requested: By some very lovely people, and myself, an actual piece of human garbage

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: Injured!Robb

Word Count: 1,858

A/N: Long time, no see. I don’t know how I let this sit on the backburner for so long, as it is certainly one of my favorite things to write. Now that Robb is absent from my Game of Thrones viewing, I have been coping with this, so I hope that you guys enjoy! Feedback is appreciated, as always!

Somehow, Robb had managed to disappear. You’d made plans yesterday to meet in the library before going out for a ride. Although you didn’t accompany them on hunts anymore, you did love racing through the woods with Robb and Grey Wind. Ever since Ned had brought the direwolves back for the children, you had wanted one of your own.

He had brought them back when they were less like wolves and behaved more like puppies, really. You had smiled and laughed along with your family, happy that such a small creature had brought them such joy. But, try as you might, you couldn’t hide your want from Robb.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, tugging lightly on a bit of rope that you had procured for Grey Wind to play with.

“I was just thinking that I would very much like a dog.” You sighed, stroking your hand over Grey Wind’s fur.

“How many times are we going to have this argument?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” You laughed, burying your face into Grey Wind’s side.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

When you were younger, you had come to Winterfell convinced that their house sigil was a dog. Robb had taken immediate offense, but to his credit, he bit his tongue for as long as possible. He hid his anger for a long time, but after a few days, he felt that he was going to combust if he didn’t correct you. He danced around the subject for days, before gently sitting you down in the library with the big book of house sigils.

At the tender age of four, you had mistakenly read “Wolf” as “Oelf” and Robb had never let you live it down. He brought it up often enough that you knew that one little mistake as a child was not going away anytime soon.

“Oh, Arya!” you called, spotting her hurriedly making her way around the corner. When she didn’t stop, you quickened your pace, easily catching up with her. “Arya, have you seen Robb?”

Arya took your hand, and resumed her earlier pace, explaining between her shallow breaths. “I have been looking for you all morning!” She paused for a moment, meeting your eyes before casting her glance once again to her shoes, tapping quickly on the stone. “Robb is in the infirmary.”

“I was just in the library, wait- what do you mean that Robb is in the infirmary?” You felt your heart beat quickening in your chest. It was your job to get hurt, and it was his job to baby you until you got better, and then do it all over again.

“I mean that Robb was trying to help Bran with his bow work and something went wrong.” Arya took your hand and tried to lead you to the infirmary again, but you were rooted on the spot. Your mind was a blur, you could barely think straight. “Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt” ran through your mind, a rather uncomforting mantra that was only making matters worse. 

“Y/N, he’s asking for you,” Arya’s voice was calm, somehow drawing you back to the situation at hand. Robb was hurt, and he was asking for you. Arya took a tentative step toward the infirmary, wanting to make sure that you were with her. You met her eyes, nodded your head, and tried to get yourself together before you got to the Robb.

Arya threw open the door to the infirmary, and you felt yourself holding back a gasp. Arya had insisted that he was barely even hurt, that it practically a scrape, but Robb looked as if he was close to death.

“This is why it does you good to get hurt every once and awhile.” You took a seat on the bed by his side, twining your pinky with his. It was a simple act, something that the two of you had done since you were children, who didn’t want to be made fun of for holding hands. Now, it was something that felt like second nature, even if people smirked when they saw it. He gave you a look, one that you knew meant explain yourself before I wallop you over the head. “Well, Mr. Perfect never gets hurt and now a knick in the side makes you think that you are dying.”

You held your breath, waiting for a response. Jokes in times of crisis could go either way. Robb’s laughter filled the room, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. It definitely wasn’t as serious as you thought that it was if he was willing to laugh at it.

You caught a glimpse of Abigayle over Robb’s head, rolling a bandage and chuckling to herself. At least she was taking your humor in stride. More than a few people had reprimanded you for your particularly unladylike jokes in times of trouble. But they always made your family laugh, and making them laugh was more important to you than being ladylike anyday.

“But you are okay?” You asked in a hushed voice. As much as it hurt you to admit it, he had scared you.

Robb tried to hold back a reaction, but despite himself his mouth quirked to the side in the annoying almost smile that he had developed when the two of you were younger. But you had been though enough with him to notice when he was holding something back.

You hadn’t missed the look that the nurse maid had given the two of you before pointedly laying down her linens and slipping out of the door, taking Arya with her. Robb tried to sit up, holding back a grimace that if you didn’t know him any better, you wouldn’t have been able to notice.

You reached forward to grab him, to help him sit up. But, before you could, his hands came to cradle your face, bringing your forehead to rest against his. If it was any other time, you would have told him to shove off, but after all of the excitement of the last few days, you needed a moment.

A moment to be alone with him, to just breathe, and accept that everything was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry that I worried you.” Robb said, his voice quiet and timid, afraid to break the silence that had taken over the room.

“You should be, it’s my job to worry you.” You said, attempting to muster a laugh. It didn’t sound like a joke, though. Your voice was shaking just the slightest bit, trying to hide the emotion behind it.

“How could I forget? It is your job to fall off of a horse and then immediately walk directly into a wall. The same wall that has been in the same spot for hundreds of years, might I add.” He laughed, a real laugh this time. A laugh that made him throw his head back and made his stomach hurt just a bit, because he really, truly meant it. And after a few moments, you couldn’t help but join him.

“Well, I don’t want to interupt, but I’ve heard that Bran has maimed my eldest.” Catelyn said, letting herself in. You were about to stand, in order to let her have your place at Robb’s side, but she lazily motioned for you to sit down, taking a spot by the fire instead.

“It was really nothing, mother.” Robb said, looping his pinky with yours again. “Bran’s bow work obviously needs a bit more work, but I am going to be good as new.”

You held in a chuckle. Bran needing more bow work was the biggest understatement that you had heard in your life. He would get there eventually, but you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time that someone ended up in the infirmary before he learned to shoot a target. Maybe Arya could help him. She was wonderful with a bow, and even though she was less patient than the boys. Then again, that might be what Bran needed if he was ever going to hit a target. You made a mental note before returning your focus to the situation at hand.

“I’m sure that you will be, after all, it seems that you have an excellent nursemaid with you.” You didn’t miss her glancing down at your hands resting on the bed. You stuck your tongue out at her.

She didn’t reprimand you, knowing that it would only encourage you further.

“Abigayle is wonderful.” you said, eyes shifting to the door that the gray-haired woman had left through a few minutes ago.

Catelyn’s eyebrows arched the slightest bit, and Robb was chuckling to himself.

“I have a feeling that my mother wasn’t talking about Abigayle.” His pinky tightened around yours, not too tightly, but enough to make you understand what he was trying to say.

They were talking about you.

“Well, I haven’t done anything.” You insisted, unsure what they were trying to say.

“We both know that Arya is going to have to drag you out of this room before you leave his side.” Catelyn laughed, standing up from her chair. “Which is why I know that I can take my leave to help Sansa and the girls with their needlepoint.” Catelyn placed a kiss on the top of Robb’s head, and then yours. “I will see you later, my loves. She said, pausing for just a moment in the doorway, before making her way out of the room.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about.” You said, untangling your pinky from his before moving to get a strip of cloth to change Robb’s bandages. Abigayle had given him fresh ones a few hours ago, but with all of the moving around he was sure to need new ones. “I help everyone when they are hurt.”

The look on Robb’s face said that he wanted to say more, and you felt a wave of relief when it seemed that he was going to hold his tongue, for now at least.

You motioned for him to take off his shirt, allowing you a better look at the wound on his side. It was a shallow wound, but it ran the length of his ribcage, jagged and rough against his pale skin. Thankfully, it looked as if it would heal in a few days. Unfortunately, you were left to coddle Robb like a child until he was good as new.

He had a tendency to be clingy when he was hurt. You didn’t honestly know if it was because it truly made him feel better, or if he liked having an excuse to be around you, even more often than usual. Your head said that it was the first option, but it was getting harder as of late to ignore what your heart was saying.

Refocusing on the task at hand, you found that you had been right, and the bandages were nearly soaked through. You made quick work of them, not allowing your fingers to linger any more than was absolutely necessary.

You can read Part Five here!

[jarmes]

Birdcage Chapter IX

Masterpost -  Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Window, or: the part where expectations are thrown out the window

“My name’s Roland Rice,” the injured man said. “I’m a traveling merchant.”

“A merchant?” I asked.

“It’s a dangerous job, but someone’s gotta do it. The villages outside these walls, as rare as they are, would die without supplies from the Capital,” Rice said. “Not that I’m complaining. You’d be surprised how much those people will pay for basic goods.”

“How noble,” Sterling said.

Rice leaned over my shoulder as we led him to the Temple for medical help. “I owe you two a debt of gratitude,” Rice said. “I’d probably be dead if you didn’t open that gate for me.”

“Just doing the right thing,” I said. “Anyone would do the same.”

“You’d be surprised. In my experience, a sadly large amount of the Knights lack any sense of human decency.”

“So, Rice, do you have experience fighting monsters?” Sterling asked.

“Me? No, I’ve never been good at that type of thing,” Rice replied.

“It’s hard to believe that you’d travel alone through monster-infested wilds without the ability to defend yourself.”

“You’ve got me there. I was actually traveling with some mercenaries I hired to defend me, but they stole all of my money and ran away while I was sleeping,” Rice said.

“That’s horrible,” I said.

“Where were you traveling from, again?” Sterling asked.

Rice paused for a moment. “Luttonheld,” he said.

“What did you bring them?”

“Grain.”

“Your cart looked to be pretty full when you were coming towards the gate.”

“I, uh, brought back some Hekate Glass to sell to the Knights.”

“Lay off on the questioning, Sterling,” I said. “Mr. Rice almost died, let’s get him to a healer before we interrogate him.”

We led Rice into the Temple and handed him over to Sister Nancy, who assigned Anna to treat his wounds. Rice took his pack off, placing it on the ground, and sat down on one of the beds for examination. “What happened to you? Your arm looks like a raw steak that was torn up by dogs,” Anna said.

“Wolves, actually,” Rice said.

“Your armor seems to just be thin plates covering filled layers of cloth, which the wolves were able to tear through easily,” Anna said.

“It was cheaper than full metal” Rice mumbled.

“In that case, it’s a good thing armor is purely decorative and serves no defensive purpose,” Anna said.

After his arm was healed, Rice lifted his helmet and placed it on the bed, finally giving us a good look at his face. Put simply, it wasn’t a pretty sight. “So, how do I look?” Rice asked.

“You look...fine,” I mumbled.

“You look like someone poured tomato juice over a piece of moldy bread,” Anna said.

“It really isn’t that bad,” I said.

“It’s bad,” Sterling said.

Rice sighed. “Figures,” he said.

“In all seriousness, the wounds are pretty deep,” Anna said. “I can do some healing, but there will be some serious scarring. The good news is that the damage seems confined to your arm and face. Your internal organs are fine.

“That’s good, I guess,” Rice said.

Anna wiped Rice’s face with a towel and began healing the lacerations around his face. While Rice was distracted, Sterling crept over to the bed and opened up Rice’s pack. He pulled out a tarp and several metal poles.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but there isn’t anything valuable in there for you to take,” Rice said. “Just a tent and some herbs.”

“Herbs?” Sterling said.

“I grow them myself. They help me sleep. I, uh, get nightmares sometimes.”

Sterling stepped away from the pack. “You know, you guys can head back to the gate,” Rice said. “I’m sure this girl doesn’t need you standing over her while she works.”

“You’re right, it isn’t fair to leave Cross alone to deal with the gate,” I said. “Come on Sterling.”

We left Rice with Anna and began walking back to the gate. “What’s your opinion of that man?” Sterling asked.

“Mr. Rice? He seems nice enough.” I said.

“I don’t know, something about him just rubs me the wrong way. He seemed surprisingly healthy for someone mauled by wolves.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we saved him. Besides, I wouldn’t exactly call him healthy. You saw his face.”

“That’s the thing I don’t get. How did his face get cut up if he was wearing a helmet? Something strange is going on.”

“You’re paranoid.”

“And you’re naive.”

Sterling was right about Mr. Rice, of course. There are few things he was ever wrong about. After Anna treated his wounds, stopping the bleeding and covering his face in bandages, she left him alone. Rice used this opportunity to sneak out a window.

Rice spent the rest of the day preparing for his mission. He bought an old woodcutting axe from the twins, three glass bottles of juice from a grocer, quills from a book shop, whiskey from a bar, and ice from a mage using money hidden in his boots. Using the bottles and quills, Mr. Rice constructed rudimentary syringes. He dried out the herbs and powdered them, mixing them with the whiskey to create a dark green salve that he coated the remaining quills in.

That night, Rice found a retired Knight sitting in a bar. Specifically, one who’d worked as a palace guard when he was younger. The guard told Rice everything he needed to know after a few drinks. Armed with his new knowledge of palace security, Rice bided his time.

At four in the morning, Mr. Rice made his way to the palace gate. The guards stopped him, crossing their spears to block his path. “Who goes there?” one of them yelled. “Why are you wearing a helmet?”

“Same reason you’re wearing a helmet,” Rice said dryly. “Protection.”

“Take it off so we can see your face and make sure you’re a Knight!” the other Knight said.

Rice sighed and took off his helmet. “Got scuffed up pretty bad in a fight a few days ago,” he said. “Doctor said I have to wear the bandages for another week. Don’t worry though, I’m still the same man I’ve always been.”

“And what man is that?”

“Sergeant Roland Rice of Squad VI,” Rice said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like access to the barracks.”

The soldiers lifted their visors and looked at one another. “Do you know a Sergeant Rice?” one asked.

“I don’t know. Didn’t Squad VI just get a couple new members last week?” the other replied.

“I could go check, I guess.”

Rice sighed. “Look, it’s early,” he said. “Nobody wants you waking them up. Just let me through and you can go back to doing whatever it is you two do.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble for letting someone through the gate without proper clearance,” one of the guards said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t know. I think it would be best if I went and talked to someone.”

“Wait!” Rice said as he reached for his pack. “I think I have a letter from the leader of Squad VI, Captain Cross, explaining why I needed to be out so late.”

In an instant, Rice grabbed a salve covered quill from his pack and threw it, hitting one of the guards is the forehead. The struck guard fell asleep and collapsed to the ground with a loud clang.

The other guard slammed his visor down in time to avoid Rice’s second quill dart. He started to run towards the barracks to get help. Rice struck him in the leg with his axe.

Rice ripped off the man’s helmet and placed his hand over the man’s mouth to silence his screams. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. The dart’ll just knock you out,” Rice said as he stabbed the guard in the back of the neck with another salve coated quill.

After hiding the unconscious guards, Rice made his way through the palace, hiding to avoid guards and using quill darts on those that spotted him. Eventually, Rice arrived at the bottom of a spiral staircase leading up the palace’s spire. Rice used his final darts on the guards at the bottom of the stairs and began his accent. At the top, he encountered a guard wearing golden armor holding a large hammer.

“I assume you’re going to beat the shit out of me regardless of what I say to justify my being here,” Rice said.

The guard in the golden armor charged at Rice and swung his hammer, narrowly missing Rice’s head. Rice clenched his fists as glowing runes appeared on his gauntlets. Rice opened his palms, releasing a bolt of violet lightning.

The force of the blast threw the man against the stone wall of the tower, knocking him out. Rice sat on the steps for a few minutes, catching his breath and recovering his wasted stamina.

Eventually, Rice got up and climbed to the top of the spire. A wooden door guarded a room at the top of the tower. Rice examined the complicated lock on the door, requiring three different keys to open, before grabbing his axe and breaking down the flimsy door.

A child’s bedroom sat on the other side of the door, with a large pink bed sitting against the wall and a cage covered window on the wall. As Rice climbed through the door, the small head of a young girl poked out from underneath the covers. “Hello there,” she said.

Rice placed the axe back in his pack and pulled out the syringes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Well, maybe a little, if you count poking you with a needle as hurting you.”

Rice walked over to the girl and grabbed one of her silver braids. He squeezed his hand and the braid fell off, without hurting the girl in any way. Rice placed the braid in his pack.

Rice jabbed the girl in the arm with one of the syringes and began drawing blood. “What is your name?” the girl asked.

“Eric,” ‘Rice’ said.

“Have you come to kidnap me, Eric?” the girl asked.

“No. I’d never get out of the city with you. I’ll stick with taking a little blood for now,” Eric said. “Besides, I’ve already got a pretty bad rap sheet. It probably wouldn’t look good to add princess theft to it.”

After draining three bottles of blood, Eric placed them in his pack by the ice. He pulled out the tarp and metal rods and began assembling them into a glider. “Judging by the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, we’ll have company in a moment,” Eric said. “It’s been a pleasure, princess, but I’ve got to go.”

Eric pointed his arm at the window and fired a blast of energy, breaking open the cage. “My name is Tera,” the princess said.

“See you around, Tera,” Eric said before leaping out of the tower.

[live4thelord-blog1]

What Did Jesus Call Us? – A Homily for the 4th Sunday of Easter

The Lord says, “My sheep hear my voice.” That’s right, He called us sheep. Get a little indignant with me here! The Lord is comparing us not to majestic eagles, beautiful gazelles, swift horses, mighty lions, or clever doges, but to sheep. While reality may hurt, the truth can liberate. Although sheep are considered somewhat lowly animals, they are valuable as well. Let’s consider today’s Gospel in three stages.

I. THE SIGN OF THE SHEEP – What does the Lord mean in using sheep as a sign for us? Here are some qualities of sheep that may help illustrate what He is teaching.

Sheep are WAYWARD – They tend to wander off. A sheep will graze for a while and then look around and seem to wonder, “Where am I?” He doesn’t know how to get back to the fold unless the shepherd goes out and brings him back. Sheep just keep on going and don’t come back. Dogs and cats can find their way home, horses can find the barn, but sheep can’t manage to find their way back without the shepherd seeking them out and guiding them.

Don’t tell me that doesn’t describe us! Like sheep, we have gone astray, each to his own way (Isaiah 53:6). Yes, we easily become lost. We need the sheepfold of the Church; we need Christ the Shepherd, ministering through His Pope, bishops, and priests. Without that we would just wander here and there.

Sheep are WITLESS – Sheep are just not that bright. We train dogs, birds, horses, and even lions, but you don’t hear about trained sheep too frequently!

We human sheep like to think we’re smart. Sure, we’ve been to the moon, and we have all this advanced technology, but too many of us aren’t even bright enough to pray every day, go to Mass on Sundays, and follow God’s basic directions for life.

We’re so witless that we do things that we know will harm us. Even the simplest directions from God we either confuse or stubbornly refuse to follow. We cop an attitude and say, “We know a few things too.” That’s right, we know very few things.

In fact, we’re so dumb that we think we’re smarter than God! We think our way is better than His way. Now that is really dumb!

Sheep are WEAK – Sheep have no way to protect themselves. Mules can kick, cats can scratch, dogs can bite, rabbits can run away, and skunks—well, you know what they can do—but without the care of the shepherd and the help of sheep dogs, sheep are doomed! The wolf comes and all they can do is stand there get devoured.

So it is with us. If it were not for the care of Jesus the Good Shepherd, we’d be cornered by the world, the flesh, and the devil. If it were not for the Lord and the power of His grace, we would be toast!

We like to think we’re strong; we have armies, political power, monetary power, and star power that can feed that illusion. Then at the slightest temptation we fall! We need the Lord and His grace and mercy, or we don’t stand a chance. We are weak and prone to sin.

YET …

Sheep are WORTHWHILE – In Jesus’ day, many a man counted his wealth by the number of sheep he owned. Shepherds made many sacrifices to breed, herd, and protect these valuable animals, which provided meat, milk, and wool. So it is with us. At times we may not feel worthy, but apparently we were worth saving because the Lord paid the price of our redemption. He knew the price and paid it all—not with silver and gold but with His own precious blood (1 Peter 1:18-19).

Sheep WALK together – Sheep flock together and are safer that way. To be a solitary sheep is dangerous; it’s a good way to get eaten.

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour (1 Peter 5:8). Scripture also says, Woe to the solitary man! For if he should fall, he has no one to lift him up (Eccles 4:10). Sheep are not supposed to go off on their own, and neither are we.

We are called to part of a flock and to be under the care of a shepherd. Most of us realize this in a parish setting, but in the wider sense, each of us is under the care of a bishop and ultimately the care of the Pope, who is the chief shepherd and Vicar of Christ, the Good Shepherd.

The Lord Jesus said that there is to be one flock and one shepherd (John 10:16). God wants us to be in the protection of the flock with a shepherd watching over us. An old spiritual says, “Walk together, children. Don’t you get weary. There’s a great camp meeting in the promised land.” Too many like to point out that the Pope doesn’t know this or that, but please consider that to wander from the care of the flock and the shepherd is a mighty dangerous thing.

Sheep are WARY – In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, He who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the gatekeeper opens; the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers (John 10:11-14).

Sheep have the remarkable quality of knowing their master’s voice and of instinctively fearing any other.

In this matter, sheep are smarter than most of us, for we do not flee voices contrary to Christ’s. Instead, we draw close to those voices and ask, “Tell me more.” In fact, we spend a lot of time and money to listen to those other voices. We buy televisions so that the enemy’s voice can influence us and our children. We spend large amounts of time watching television, listening to the radio, and perusing the Internet.

Yes, we can so easily be drawn to the enemy’s voice. Not only do we not flee from it, we feast upon it. Instead of rebuking it, we rebuke the voice of God. We put His Word on trial instead of putting the world on trial.

We must be more wary, like sheep, and respond only to one voice: that of the Lord speaking though His Church. We must flee every other voice.

II. THE SAFETY OF THE SHEEP – Jesus goes on to say, my sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me. No one can take them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one can take them out of the Father’s hand.

Note Jesus’ promise that He will not be overpowered, no one can snatch from His hand. The Book of Daniel says, His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom that shall not be destroyed, his kingship shall not be destroyed (Dan 7:14). In no way can the devil have power over Jesus or His flock.

This is all predicated on what’s been said: if we want protection and safety, we have to know only Jesus’ voice and stop running after all sorts of false shepherds and contrary voices. We have to stay with the true Shepherd, Jesus, and within the protection of His flock. If you want safety, stay in the shelter of Jesus’ shepherding.

Let us be clear on this point: no weapon waged against us can ever prosper (Isaiah 54:17). Satan cannot harm us unless we open the door. Satan is like a dog on a leash: he can only harm us if we get too close to him through our own foolish decisions! Satan is a chained dog; do not stray into his range or territory!

Yet so many people do! They savor the darkness of pop culture, visit pornographic Internet sites, consume a steady diet of revengeful “action” movies, and are drawn in by commercials telling them to buy the latest product with its promises of empty fulfillment. A steady stream of polluted water and then we wonder why we are sick and weak, full of the parasites of sin.

Is it any wonder that our thinking is distorted, unbiblical, dark, and foolish? At least sheep know to flee a false shepherd. Too many of us are intrigued by the ranting of false shepherds. We glamorize evil and fill our minds with false teaching and improper priorities.

Thus, while no one can snatch from Jesus’ hand, this is not some magical protection that prevents us from foolishly and sinfully walking away from Him. If we do walk away, woe to us; if we stray, our strength will fail!

Pay attention, fellow sheep: do not stray from the Shepherd. The protection of the Lord is only for those who desire and freely choose such protection. He can protect you, but not if you live a double life or open the door to your heart to Satan. The Lord is not a slave owner; He is a lover who invites us to freely accept His offer of new life rooted in a loving and trusting relationship with Him.

Do you know His voice? Do you know only His voice? Do you run form every voice contrary to His, or do you seek counselors who tell you what your itching ears want to hear? (cf 2 Tim 4:3) If you remain true, you have the protection of the Savior Jesus Christ, and nothing will ever harm you (Luke 10:19)—but if you stray, be not surprised at the presence of wolves.

III. THE SALVATION OF THE SHEEP – The text goes on to say, I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish.

For the flock of the Lord there is the gift of “eternal life.” Too many Christians equate this with some distant future that they vaguely hope to attain.

Eternal life does mean the capacity to “live forever and never die,” but it is so much more than that! “Eternal” refers not only to length of life but to its fullness.

In this sense, eternal life is now, as we become ever more aware that If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation (2 Cor 5:17). Of this I am a witness, being far more alive in my fifties than I ever was in my twenties! My body ages, but my soul is younger and more vibrant than ever.

Here is the promise to lay hold of: those who are in the shepherd’s care come, in stages, to experience life more fully, to become more fully alive. Jesus our Shepherd promises us eternal life, but this does not wait until Heaven—it is now. We sheep are brought to salvation, to healing, if we will accept it. If we choose freedom and the Shepherd’s cares, it is ours! If we reject some or all of it, then we live apart from His care and vision and become easy prey for savage wolves.

Are you smarter than a sheep? Do you know how to recognize the Shepherd’s voice and follow only Him, or are you foolishly running after worldly advice and sinful priorities? On this Good Shepherd Sunday, strive to be good sheep.

Yes, He called us that—sheep. Sheep have this going for them: they recognize only their shepherd’s voice and run from any other

[sinememoriae]

A REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.

RULES.  repost , don’t  reblog  ! tag  10  ! good  luck  ! TAGGED. @vessuvius​ thank you ily <333333 TAGGING. just steal it matey arg!!!!!

FULL NAME : Will be revealed in due time. NICKNAME : Frog, Blackberry, Atlas, Kouji, Jackal, Bork Pupper The First. AGE : Actually waaaay more old than one would think, yet appears to be around his mid twenties. BIRTHDAY : November 10th. ETHNIC GROUP : Japanese. NATIONALITY : Technically japanese. LANGUAGE / S : English, japanese, chinese. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Demisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Demiromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Widowed. CLASS : Way before anything happened, middle classed. Afterwards it simply didn’t matter, wolves such as him and his pack cared not for such things. HOME TOWN / AREA : Deep in the woods of Japan, areas unexplored by men still. CURRENT HOME : Adjacent rural areas, any place he can find or any place the humans who ‘adopt’ him take him to. PROFESSION : Unemployed.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Black with a bluish hue to it, bangs split in the middle and stand up at the end just like the rest of his hair. Short but abundant. EYES : Sharp, almost cat like. Golden hues with a certain ‘dna’ pattern in the iris around the pupil, barely visible unless seen upclose. FACE : Oval shaped, sharp chin. LIPS : Thin and long, upper lips stands out more than the lower lip. Pale-ish, don’t really stand out much. COMPLEXION : Skin is pale yet not unhealthy looking, a little dry and rough to the touch however except where the tattoos are: there the skin is smooth and soft.  BLEMISHES : None. SCARS : None, supernatural healing allows no scarring. TATTOOS : Many, starting from the face then following his collarbone and very base of the neck that go around the back of it as well, upper arms and then shoulder blades/back. Was born with them. HEIGHT : Six feet three inches exactly if standing completely straight. (6′3″)  WEIGHT :  One hundred and seventy eight pounds. (178 lbs) BUILD : Muscular, thick and toned overall. Broad chest and somewhat small hips, thick thighs. Has a very obvious case of them bara tiddies. FEATURES : Long somewhat sharp nails, sharp canines that poke out slightly over lower lips. ALLERGIES : Silver, will make his skin turn red and swell. USUAL HAIR STYLE : Pretty messy overall, never attempts to comb through it or fix it up a bit. USUAL FACE LOOK : Blank, curious yet plain looking. USUAL CLOTHING : Jeans and nothing else. No shoes, no shirt, no underwear.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Losing a loved one, murder. (Despite his ability of easily being capable of commiting the latter.) ASPIRATION / S : To get revenge on the one that took his life away. (If possible) Find a new path in life, and new life itself. POSITIVE TRAITS : Friendly, modest, forgiving, faithful, loyal, confident, listener, patient, open-minded, accepting. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Ignorant, naive, gullible, innocent, unsympathetic, extremist, resentful, merciless, cruel. ZODIAC : Scorpio. Known to hold grudges for a very long time and avoid/hide their emotions often, yet known to be extremely loyal if the circumstances are right. TEMPERAMENT : Phlegmatic. The phlegmatic temperament is fundamentally relaxed and quiet, ranging from warmly attentive to lazily sluggish. Phlegmatics tend to be content with themselves and are kind. They are accepting and affectionate. They may be receptive and shy and often prefer stability to uncertainty and change. They are consistent, relaxed, calm, rational, curious, and observant, qualities that make them good administrators. They can also be passive-aggressive. SOUL TYPE / S :  Helper:   Helper types have plenty of common sense, and a pragmatic approach to problems that ensures things get done. With their no-nonsense, roll-your-sleeves-up-and-get-the-job-done approach to life, Helpers keep the modern world rolling. Without them, our cities would grind to a halt, and the infrastructure of our societies would crumble. VICE HABIT / S :  Spacing out, getting easily distracted, being stubborn sometimes. VIRTUES / VICES: Compassion, patience, forgiving, ready to help if possible. FAITH : Unsure. Believes in certain ‘gods’ and ‘godesses’. GHOSTS ? : No. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes, experienced it himself for a while. REINCARNATION ? : Yes, experienced it and is aware of it. ALIENS ? : Has no idea what those are. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : None. Does not care. EDUCATION LEVEL : Has never gone to any form of school or formal education. Knows speech yet lacks in writing or reading skills.

FAMILY.

FATHER :  Remembers he had one, does not remember face nor name. MOTHER : Remebers her face yet not her name. SIBLINGS :  Many. EXTENDED FAMILY :  A few adopted abandoned pups here and there. NAME MEANING / S : Does not remember their names. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : None.

FAVORITES.

BOOK : — MOVIE :  — 5 SONGS :  — HOLIDAY : New year. MONTH : December. SEASON : Winter. PLACE : Forest, near a river. WEATHER : Cloudy and cold. SOUND : Snow crunching under his steps. SCENT / S : Wood. TASTE / S : Salty. FEEL / S : Soft, sandy. ANIMAL / S : Canines in general. NUMBER : 4. COLORS : Black, white, grey.

EXTRA.

TALENTS :  Anything involving the use of his strength, fast and agile, be surprisingly delicately when he wants to be despite the claws and rough overall looks. BAD AT : Expressing/understanding his own emotions and the emotions of others, anything mathematical unless extremely basic. TURN ONS : Shows of power/dominance/strength/attitude, no hesitation, authority. TURN OFFS : Unconfidence, softness. HOBBIES : ‘Studying’ humans and anything having to do with them and their lifestyles. TROPES : werewolf, amnesic character, inherently powerful, innocent yet destructive main character, cute but deadly, shapeshifting, reincarnation, dog-like traits,  AESTHETIC TAGS : wolves / night / moon / cute / fangs GPOY QUOTES :  ❝ I might have forgotten who I was— But I’ll never forget what you did to me. ❞  / ❝ If there’s not a path to follow I shall make my own and find home. ❞    

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S : Ren (Rhyme form) from DMMd.  ALT FC / S : Ren in his allmate form. OLDER FC / S : — YOUNGER FC / S : — VOICE CLAIM / S : — GENDERBENT  FC / S : — 

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?          

A1 :  The movie would simply be tittled ‘Home’ and it’d be a kind of documentary about this wolf’s life, the struggles and good moments and how he built his pack from nothing up to the moment the monster attacked and destroyed everything he had worked so hard for. Not specifically high budget but would certainly have a lot of elements to make it look like so, lots of scenery and slow motion captures, close ups and beautiful scenes on the snow.

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?          

A2 : More often than not just the sound of the night and nature: frogs croaking and rain falling; a river flowing, snow crunching under their paws; muffled and far away callings of other animals. 

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?        

A3 :  He started of as one of my very first oc’s, specially after I started drawing and was just doodling random scribbles and whatnot; somehow I ended up drawing the same wolfman over and over again and in the end I decided to give him a story. Though, that was many years ago, this version of him is pretty much completely redacted, almost a brand new character, yet the original idea and overall story is still the same.

Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?          

A4 :  His superficial simplicity yet how complex he can be once you learn about his full story and feelings.

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.          

A5 : Since he was pretty much raised in the wild he doesn’t know what’s morally right or wrong on modern human society, so despite trying to live as a human he isn’t looking in the right places and could be molded in the wrong ways. What I’m saying is he’s too gullible and can’t seem to think anything a human tells him is wrong, even when it is obvious. It’s soooooo easy to lie to him.

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?          

A6 :  We both can’t express our feelings properly, or are just too closed up sometimes.

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?          

A7 : “I like him.”

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?        

A8 : So far all of his interactions have been pretty interesting since all the characters he’s talked to so far are all so unique and different from the other. No thread is alike.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?        

A9 :  It’s a little weird to put it, but my own search for curiosity in human morals and motivations gives me a lot of inspiration to write a character that does the same thing from a different perspective.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?          

A10 :  A literal entire fucking day.