#with some of it being done for the sake of the hunt at that point

[transingthoseformers]

I'm always thinking about what happened to Dominus ambus.

so fucked, so much to work with

IT IS!!!!

Especially since, they didn't just kill him. Why didn't they just kill him, why did they go through the whole process of Domesticating him instead?? Especially considering how at this point Domestication was believed to be permanent, so in their minds they pretty much did leave him a dead mech walking.

I can't find their particular angle other than wanting to be excessively cruel for cruelty's sake

[chirrups]

I feel like I have nothing to ask, I simply would love to hear more about them fucked up mermaid and murderer

And I would absolutely love to tell you about them, Tin.

This AU takes place somewhere vaguely in the Pacific Northwest (circa. 1970s-80s) in an isolated fishing town along a storm-wracked coast.

Fisheries in and around the bay have collapsed due to extreme winter weather patterns + overfishing + an oil spill from a tanker run aground down the coast, leaving most of the bay's inhabitants to live pretty much hand-to-mouth off contaminated fish in recent years.

get ready for LORE (and more drawings but mostly the LORE)

general warning: this is pretty long

The "story" as it were, kicks off when Gem finally gets fed up with another fisherman in the area, Grian, over continued conflict about ownership of fishing grounds in the mouth of the bay.

She orchestrates his death (with the eager assistance of Scott and Impulse) out at sea and passes off his death as a tragic accident in the winter swells with her being the unfortunate finder of his remains.

And it works.

See the thing is: Gem has a history of causing disappearances. It started with some accidents with out-of-town poachers. She would chase these people off and one or two would just slip overboard and happen to drown. It wasn’t her fault and besides they deserve it. But things start to escalate from there. Poachers become outsiders become fellow townspeople. Grian is someone Gem’s known for years, whose friends are tangentially her friends or acquaintances. His death is a cold-blooded murder driven by hatred and frustration. This time something is different about what she's done and Gem knows it.

But Gem is a reputable and well-known person. Her prices are fair, she drives poachers out of the bay and maintains order around the pragmatic fishing ground policy that undoubtedly helps everyone to survive.

She is the type of person to look to for guidance when things get hard because she can make those hard choices. So how on earth could it be her fault?

No one is wiser until Grian's funeral brings an old friend into town who is more than a little suspicious about the circumstances of his death.

Scar was one of Grian's crewmates when they did trawling much further south. They split when Scar took up (illegal) whaling and Grian moved into the bay.

As an outsider, Scar isn't so swayed by the goodwill the town has around Gem's name. He's no detective but for the sake of an old friend, he might as well try.

In this AU, mermaids are social mammals part of the Hominidae family that went back into the ocean similar to Cetaceans. They live in matrilineal family groups or in any other female-led organization of pods and have a very "survival-oriented" global culture (with regional variation).

Pearl is a lone mermaid whose pod lived in the bay until they were starved out by the collapsing fisheries. PNW mermaids are more territorial than other ecotypes and value strength over anything else. Pearl's inability (read: unwillingness) to oust other pods for better fishing grounds and the loss of one of her pod members summarily lead the other two to abandon her.

Without a pod to help her, hunting enough in her dwindling territory has been difficult and lonely, leading her to slowly starve just as the humans in the bay have begun to.

She took to trailing fishing boats to steal from their catch, which is how she met Gem who was mid-throwing some unfortunate soul overboard.

They have an interesting relationship.

Gem is enamored with Pearl at the halfway point between a person and a large apex predator. She loves the way Pearl needs her to live and the way Pearl, as a social creature with no pod, craves her attention. It's thrilling to have a predator at her beck and call like this and, in turn, to be so desperately needed. She also loves the way Pearl doesn't look at her like she's dangerous (the way Scott and Impulse have begun to when they think she doesn't see them). Her interest in Pearl seems to be leaching into something more than just wildlife admiration. She's begun to learn the mermaid language just to talk to her. For what? Who really knows. Meanwhile, Pearl is hungry enough to eat just about anything Gem throws her (including human bodies) and desperate enough that she lets Gem get much closer than many humans in this area have ever been to a mermaid. (They even touch, scandalous for mermaids.)

It's skewed for sure. From Gem's perspective, they've got something special going on. From Pearl's... not so much.

This being Secret-Life based, you can imagine how this story ends...

Bonus piece: Pearl and her old pod.

IN GENERAL, Biological females are generally larger with a set of rotated tusks protruding from their lower jaw for dominance displays. Biological males are commonly smaller and more agile, with more dexterous hands due to decreased adipose tissue distribution over their bodies. (They actually have 3 biological sexes and tons of social gender variation but that's a talk for another time). Pre-cultural awakening, these pods would form around a biological female and their harem for reproductive purposes. That female would then protect the harem from other females looking to "steal them" or their territories (like horses but reverse-style). In modern times, these pods are often composed of groups of friends/related family members as sort of "platonic life partners" and stealing other pod members is seen as a very archaic sort of thing. Territory stealing, however, is still up for grabs.

[stargazedwinchester]

Hey, for a request, how about an earlier seasons Dean x Reader scenario in which they got a little crush and flirting going on, sparks between them, but Dean's a little worried that John won't approve? 👀

Your texting moodboard and the image of the "I love you. Don't reply, this is my dad's number" kinda inspired this idea!

Forbidden ♡ Dean

Summary: John doesn't approve of you dating his son, Dean. Word Count: 1,037 Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Thank you for requesting ily!! I love this bc I love JDM <3 what a dilf A little bit of Negan came out here (sorry not sorry)

When your parents passed in such a cruel, sadistic way, Dean was the one that saved you. He was the one that introduced you to hunting, to really get a feel for the life that could’ve been if you knew you could save your parents.

That gnaws at you every damn day.

At this point, you had known Dean for roughly a year, joining him on late night drives to dive bars, drinking til you can’t see. You’d stay with him in motels close to your hometown, just for the sake of company. You don’t have a lot here anymore. No close family, old school friends turned acquaintances, so you can really just rely on Dean and his younger brother, Sam.

Oh, and John.

John is a tough nut to crack. Majority of the time, you can’t tell when he’s being genuine or an absolute dick. You know Sam and Dean had a tough childhood with him not being present enough in their lives, so that fact has already somewhat helped you decide from the get-go. You had tried multiple times in the past to get on his good side: trying to get to know him, stay friendly with his sons, and most importantly, stay out of his way.

“You wanna come with?” Dean invites, pulling his jacket over his shoulders. His dad sits in the front seat of the impala, waiting for Dean to finish up. “You think he’ll let me?” You peer at John, his eyebrows scrunched, glaring at Dean. Dean looks over his shoulder, John ushering him to hurry up. “Hell what he thinks. Come with me.”

You press your lips together firmly, believing that if you join them, it’ll end badly. “Dean.” He calls, his voice stern and impatient. “We need to go.” John rolls the window up, and Dean rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t like me, does he?” You focus your eyes on Dean, who shakes his head lightly. “He doesn’t like anyone. Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll figure something out.” He flashes you a quaint smile that makes your tummy do somersaults. You place a peck on his cheek, and he blushes almost immediately. “I’ll miss you.” He says, and you smile. Dean walks down toward the car, then drives off.

It’s been a couple of weeks, and you haven’t heard much from Dean except the odd text from random numbers. One read: ‘I Love You. Don’t reply. This is my dad’s number.’ Times like these make you ill with worry. Worry that Dean’s not safe and there’s nothing you can do. You trust that he can take care of himself and you care for him deeper than you’d like to admit.

A few hours go by and you find yourself nose-deep in your book, ruminating in the same motel room as before. Dean had mentioned about being gone for a day or two, so he paid for your room on your behalf. There’s some light commotion outside. Since the voile is practically see-through, all you can see is the motel sign gleaming through the window. The rowing gets louder, as you see two male figures almost butting heads close to your room. Putting your book down, you head over to the window and see John and Dean in each other’s faces. Again.

“She’s not an issue, dad! You haven’t even given her a chance!” Dean spits. “I don’t need to give her a chance when I’ve seen enough. You need to give her up.” John retorts, and Dean pinches his brow line. “I’m not giving her up just because you say so, dad! I really like her, so get off my ass, man.” Dean attempts to turn around, but John pulls him back. “I’m not done.” He says sternly. John forces himself to be eye to eye with Dean, his cavillous demeanour ignites a fire inside you. He carries on.

“Listen, man, you don’t get to have an apple-pie life. End of the day she’ll be the first one to run when the bullet flies - and you know what? You’ll end up being the one to pick up the pieces, or the one that gets killed. So don’t you dare come back to me when you realise how much you regret being with her and you wanna come back to hunting. It ain’t gonna happen. Once you give up your life here; there’s no going back.” He threatens. John’s eyes are dark. Menacing. You feel as if you’re rewatching Dean’s teenage years reappear right in front of you. He has always mentioned that his father is a very strict person when it comes to ‘protecting’ his boys. That’s what he calls it. You open the door and meet them halfway. John turns his head and notices the scowl on your face, his aura stagnant. “John.” You state, not even bothering to make eye contact with Dean, but you can feel him staring at you. “I don’t care what you think about me, but what you’re saying to your son is far from the truth.” You say.

“You don’t know me. You clearly don’t know your own son and you have no idea about us being together. I don’t care whether you approve of me or not, but what I’m trying to say is that I love Dean. He may be your child but he’s sure as shit nothin’ like you.” You assert yourself, and John’s demeanour changes. His eyes soften, gazing upon your whole body. He looks at Dean, then huffs. Dean almost refuses to look his father in his eyes, as if he’s scared of what he could say next.

A smirk creeps up on Johns face as he’s still looking at you. His posture relaxes as he lets out a small laugh.”You’re the first person to ever stand up to me about my boys. You’ve got balls, Y/N. I like that.” John says, which takes you by surprise. This whole time you assumed John didn’t like you, turns out it’s quite the opposite. “You’re headstrong and you’ll look after my kid. You may not seek my approval but I’m giving it to you.” Jon looks over at Dean, who’s just as shocked as you are. “Thank you, sir.” You nod, and John walks back to the car. Dean sighs.

“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse. I was starting to get a little worried.” He looks at you with a shine in his eyes, one that screams ‘my-father-finally-agrees-with-something-i’ve-done’.

“Thank God.” You breathe. Dean takes your hand and walks you toward the car. He opens the back passenger door, planting a kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.”

[soobinskii]

black & blue - p.jisung

warnings : bully!jisung | cunnilingus, fem!reader, switch!jisung & switch!reader, hate fucking??, choking, degradation, spanking, slapping, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), jisung is REALLY mean, pussy worship, not dubcon.

"my god, you look.. almost as pretty as a pile of dogshit." jisung laughs at you, snickering as he hauls insults at you (like he does daily). to be quite honest, you've gotten used to it now; he's been doing it since the two of you were childhood friends. if you could even call the relationship between the two of you that.

he's been mean to you for as long as you can remember. he's even gotten physical a few times before, nothing to cause extreme physical harm to you, but nevertheless he's still done it. you didn't know why you enjoyed it; you wanted him to insult you and order you around just so you know he's going to notice you.

"hey bitch," jisung cursed at you. "carry this for me, and get your head out of the clouds for fucks sake. you've had that ditzy look on your face for like twenty minutes now.." he tosses his backpack at you as you follow him to his house. he throws his arms in the air, stretching his shoulders and back. you can't help but admire the muscles he's built over the years, they're on display right now as he's wearing a black t-shirt. with the summer approaching and the weather getting hotter, he's been wearing shorter-sleeved shirts and you can't help but look at his muscular arms, wanting to feel them wrapped around you as he fucks you from behind.

you can't focus on that right now, as you're at his house and he's unlocking the door. he pulls you in after him, gripping you by your shirt and yanking you through the doorway roughly. he points to the couch in his living room and demands you, "sit there, i'll be back. don't touch shit, you got it?" you nod quickly and scramble to take your shoes off, place them down at the door, and then sit on his couch.

as you sit and place your bags down, a small notebook slips out of his bag. you get a bit too curious while picking it up and open to a random page in it. as you read the pink text you pick up on these words "i wish i wouldn't be such an asshole, i love her." , "i can't control myself, i'm so horny for and in love with (y/n) that i feel like i have to be rude to hide it." , "i want to spank her ass until it's red."

these words suprise you, you never expected to hear it from jisung. the guy you've been pining after for so long. you don't have time to think before you hear jisung coming back to the living room and- "oh shit.." you whisper, jisung standing right in front of you with shock and anger in his eyes. "jisung! i swear i didn't see anything- i promise! i can make it up to you, what do you want?" you start to ramble, dropping the book on the coffee table. "shut up," jisung demands, his voice faltering for the first time ever. "i..." he grunts softly and sighs, walking towards you slowly; as if he was a predator hunting his prey.

he grabs your throat softly and stares you in the eyes, him being gentle and at a loss for words was not something you ever expected to see. "tell me what you read." he purses his lips and squeezes a bit harder, not enough to hurt you but definitely enough to make you dizzy. "i.. uh.." jisung pulls you closer towards himself as he awaits your answer. "tell me, whore. c'mon, use your head for once."

"i read that.. you want to fuck me.." you look away from his strong gaze as he smirks at the fact that your thighs are rubbing together, trying to create some sort of friction. "ah.. you're not illiterate, that's suprising." he hisses and sinks down to his knees in front of you, pressing his face into your clothed pussy and taking a deep inhale. he proceeds to unbutton your shorts and breathe a bit harder as he does, working himself up aswell.

"do you want this?" he asks, looking up at you with the most genuine look you've ever seen from him. you nod, agreeing to give yourself to him and allow him to fuck you as he pleases. "i need words, slut." he glares up at you. sucking in a breath you reply to him, "yes, jisung. just do it already.." you have a newfound confidence, realizing that you've had him wrapped around your finger this entire time.

he bites your thigh, hard enough to make you moan and leave a small mark. he pulls your shorts and underwear off, kissing right above your pussy; you know he's teasing you, riling you up just so you'll be more sensitive once he actually fucks you. he continues to lick and bite at your thighs, working his way towards your core. you run your fingers through his hair and slightly pull at it, getting needier with every touch of his lips against your skin.

he licks a stripe up your cunt, sucking on your clit and making a mess in between your legs. he's sloppy with it, drooling as he flicks your clit with his tongue. he presses his face deeper as he sticks his tongue in your hole, his nose pressing against your sweet spot.

it's as if jisung lives for pussy, he hasnt even come up to breathe or take a break. he's lapping at your heat like he's crazed, drunk on it and needing more to satisfy his cravings. you could almost forget all of the times he insulted you with the way he's eating you out like a mad man. he moans, enjoying the way you taste; so sweet to him, even if he was an asshole.

he pulls away enough to speak, "so sweet.. why do you taste so good.." his voice sounds whiny and breathless as he goes back to his place between your thighs, lightly whimpering as you pull his hair to get him off. you haven't cum just yet, but you have a question for the man that was supposed to hate you.

"jisung..." you start, out of breath from his insatiable lips, "if you liked- loved me this much, why were you such an asshole?" you furrow your eyebrows, lightly glaring at him. he averts his gaze and looks at the floor, you tug his hair and make him sit on the couch as you stand up. "tell me now, or i'll slap you just like you did once."

"i didn't want to love you, i hated it. so i resorted to being that way," he starts, voice coming out quietly in embarrassment and anger. "i had so many emotions that i didn't know what to do with as we got older, so i turned them into anger and took it out on you. i was too embarrassed and shameful to apologize." you yank his hair to make him look at you then, you slap him across the face, hard. his head jerks to the side and he bites his lip. you look at him in confusion and realize that his dick is twitching in his boxers.

you look at him with disgust, slapping him again to see if this was hopefully just a big joke. he moans out and throws his head back. "park jisung, do you have no shame?" his bangs cover his eyes as he lowers his head once again and shakes his head.

"make yourself useful and let me ride you then." you tell him, rolling your eyes as he scrambles to pull out his cock. the tip is pink and leaking with precum as his dick twitches, begging to be touched. you look at it in suprise, it's long and veiny. pretty, to say the least. with the way it has a blushed tip, his dick almost looked like a lollipop.

"enough staring, please.." he quietly whines out, and you slap his thigh. "don't order me around, jisung. i've had enough of you doing that as of recently." you hiss at him, nearly gritting your teeth. straddling jisung, you kiss him roughly and bite at his lower lip. he sticks his tongue in your mouth and the two of you make out. it's a sloppy makeout; teeth, tongue, and spit.

you line up jisung's cock with your entrance and sink down on it. the two of you cry out and he buries his head in your neck. you push his head back against the top of the couch, wanting to see the the faces he makes. at the moment, as you're slowly riding him, he's biting his lip and a bit of drool is seeping out of the corner of his mouth. his eyes are going in and out of focus. you could've never imagined jisung was this much of a slut for you.

"damnit, dude, why is your pussy so good?" he sighs out. you wrap your hand around his throat, and he looks at you with a fucked-out look on his face. "don't call me 'dude' while you're inside of me.."

he presses his hips up into yours and places his hands on your sides, "i'm sick of this slow shit.." jisung groans and wraps his arms around you, pulling your body towards him and starts pounding into you. his moans align with yours as he thrusts deep into you. his balls are slapping against you, his nails lightly grazing the skin of your ass.

"fuck- i'm gonna cum..." he whimpers, lip trembling. "me too ji, keep fucking me." you mewl and arch your back, your tits pressing into his chest. he brings his hand up in between your bodies and starts toying with your nipples. "cum with me, (y/n). show me how good you look when you cum on my cock.. you always look so fucking good." he rambles as your orgasms crash into you like freight trains.

jisung pulls out and cums between your stomachs as you clench around nothing, your peaks rippling through you and taking over your body. all you hear in the room is heavy breathing and soft moans.

after a few moments, jisung picks his head up and starts to speak softly. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry about all the years that i treated you like shit, you genuinely didn't deserve it, and i don't deserve to be forgiven. i just hope you'll allow me to treat you better in the future, starting now," he seems genuine, and you feel like you can trust it. "i don't care if we're just friends, or dating. but, i will never- and i mean never, treat you that way again. i swear to you, and to myself."

your jaw hangs open, at a loss for words. you don't even know what to say. after a while of being treated like nothing, you get used to it. and you never thought you'd hear park jisung- of all people- saying this to you.

a/n : this WAS supposed to be a drabble, but i got carried away loll hehe hope you enjoy !! please consider reblogging <3

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello,I'll have saw the post Sinbad ask with dorm leader of twisted wonderland, can you do a same but with vice leader or first years group please?

Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Rook Hunt & Sebek Zigvolt - Sinbad (Magi, Aos) Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey @ryu-things, you have no idea how long I've been pushing this ask back and procrastinating. I was trying to avoid it until I got done with all of the unfinished single-character asks that I have backed up, but I suddenly stumbled upon a really good song that I could use for the lyric quote. So here I am, suffering once again. (post note: somehow Lilia transitioned into Sebek 1/3 of the way through, so I'll do a part three of the first years and add Lilia there.) The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Cautionary Tales” by Jon Bellion. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

. . .

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

♠️  Trey has been the target of many flirtatious comments already, so you'd think he wouldn't be too flustered, right? The suggestive remarks and sexy smirks would simply roll off of him, like water off a duck's back. Except… He didn't think that [Name] would corner him up against a wall in the kitchen and whisper so close to his ear that he could feel the dampness of the world-hopper's breath. Trey didn't expect just how large the foreign king's hands would be as they engulfed his waist. The Vice Dorm Head didn't take into account that [Name] would treat him with such respect yet be so blunt with his desire. By the Seven, is this even legal?

♠️  Considering that the Queen of Hearts was well… the Queen of Hearts, Trey isn't too surprised at [Name] being the king of an entire country back in his old world. Although the bespectacled man didn't believe him at first since he's a naturally skeptical person, the man did come from another world. Not only that, but the foreigner gives off the air of a natural-born leader who has experience with being in a significant position of power. Trey will ask [Name] if he can spare some advice to Riddle about being an important public figure who holds power over others. He trusts his childhood friend, of course, but the clover-haired man can't help but feel that the redhead could still use the help.

♠️  This bespectacled man is about to lose his marbles if he receives one more ridiculously expensive ingredient from that hard-headed king! This has to stop; Trey is really starting to feel bad. How is he supposed to give [Name] gifts that are of equal value if the guy is buying shit that costs upward of one hundred thousand madol!? His family owns a local bakery for Seven's sake, not an international catering company! Not that Trey doesn't appreciate the foie gras, gold leaf, and fresh morels; he does, but he wishes [Name] would give him something less expensive and more personal. He also wishes that the world-hopper would stop spending such ridiculous amounts of money on the most unimportant shit.

♠️  Now, Trey is certainly not a jewelry connoisseur, however, he is absolutely certain that he's seen jewelry of a similar style to [Name]’s draping off of Kalim and even Jamil on certain occasions. They are quite lovely things aren't they, though, the six-pointed stars that were engraved into a few of them were telling enough of their true origin. Apparently, [Name] had gotten them from a structure called a dungeon; what the otherworldly man described as a giant spire that erupts from beneath the sands of the vast and vacant desert at the command of a magi. Whatever a magi is supposed to be… The Sindrian king even offered to make Trey one of his household vessels! Even if the bespectacled man still has no clue what that's supposed to mean…

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

“N‐now listen, you! This is a kitchen. It's meant for kitchen-related activities and not… n‐not this. You'll dirty the counters if you keep this up. H‐hey! Don't give me such a look!”  

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🍩  Its safe to say that Ruggie was very caught off guard when he was on the receiving end of someone's flirting.  He's sure that he's not exactly anybody's first choice when it comes to a romantic partner, he'll, he's not even the first choice for a friend. But the hyena beastman can't deny the thundering of his heart in his throat when [Name] appears behind him and rests his face in the crook of his neck. Nor can Ruggie admit the swirling thoughts of a future together whenever the charismatic [Name] sneaks into the Savanaclaw Dorm kitchen and lifts him onto the countertop so the man can hand feed him. The feeling of large hands holding the underside of his thighs is forever burned into his mind.

🍩  Aw jeez, not this shit again. No offense to [Name] or anything, but this hyena is really burned out by all this royalty stuff. If the Sindrian king turns out to be another jealous royal, Ruggie's going to start ripping his hair out; one Leona is more than enough for him to deal with. He would ask the otherworldly man to talk some sense into his Dorm Head but he doesn't even bother, he lost hope long ago. [Name] being a king does sound pretty cool though, if the foreigner ever wants to spare him some gold or food the Ruggie will welcome it with open arms. The hyena beastman does think about how it would feel to sit on a throne, but a king's lap is comfortable enough for now.

🍩  Oh, for him? [Name], you shouldn't have– just kidding, keep them coming, ol’ Ruggie can pawn some of these beauties for a hefty sum of madol and then he can send it to his family back in the Afterglow Savana. O-oh, the Sindrian king is wondering why his little doughnut lover isn't wearing most of the gifts he bought them. Those are– those are in his room! Yes, his room. This hyena just didn't want to dirty anything that was given to him by someone as important as [Name], with him being a king and all. The ol’ Rugster definitely didn't sell most of the gifts that were given to him, absolutely not. But… on the off chance that that's exactly what happened, surely the foreigner wouldn't be mad at him, right? He's got priorities after all.

🍩  You know, Ruggie doesn't mind it too much when [Name] wears his gaudy jewelry when they cuddle, so long as this hyena gets to wear some every once in a while. For some reason, though, the henchman of the second prince of the Afterglow Savana only wants to wear the jewelry that the otherworldly man won't let him touch. But how could he blame him, it's the scrap hound in him, looking at things he can't have with big wanting eyes. [Name] will have to end up showing Ruggie just how important his accessories actually are eventually and it's safe to say that the hyena beastman will no longer let his Sindrian sugar daddy wear such dangerous things while he wants to be vulnerable for a moment.

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“Hey, if ya ever get tired of eatin’ the same ol’ royal meals, yer pal Ruggie‘ll take care of it for ya. I'll clean yer plates lickety-split an’ free o’ charge. Heck, I'll even throw in a free fridge cleanin’ for ya as a bonus! All this with a downpayment o’ absolutely nothin’!”  

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🐬  Is Jade flustered? No, no, dear, he's more amused than flustered. This slippery eel hasn't had someone speak to him in such a bold way before, aside from Rook, but the hunter goes about it in a much more eloquent way. [Name] wants to wrap an arm around his waist and pepper his neck with kisses. Alright, but the monarch from another world better expect a bite or two placed over his Adam's apple in return, it's only fair.~ [Name] wants to sit him on his lap and whisper sweet nothings in his ear? That's fine, but he'd better expect Jade to take those sweet words up a few notches into dirty territory,  this eel won't hold back. The king had better watch himself and stick to flirting with the mushroom lover only; this vice dorm head doesn't share.~

🐬  Hoh? A king? [Name]? It's not that Jade doesn't believe that the Sindrian man is royalty, he just doesn't want him to know that he believes it. It was fairly obvious by just the way that the foreign man carried himself and even subtly in the way he spoke. Hell, even Floyd figured it out -not that this eel is saying anything about his brother- was it even a secret at this point? But even so, Jade doesn't care too much about [Name]’s social status and will continue to pretend that he doesn't believe the man for the sake of seeing his frustration. That glare that the Sindrian man shoots him whenever the gentlemanly eel once again denies his claims, is really gratifying in a way.

🐬  Yes, that hand-crafted broach is absolutely stunning, and yes, these rings are embedded with treasured stones from all around Twisted Wonderland,  but does Jade want them? Absolutely not. What use would he have for them? Sure, he could wear a few of the accessories that [Name] gifted him to any formal events that he may need to attend, but other than that, they'll just sit around and collect dust. He will certainly take his time to sit down with the world-hopper and discuss preferences; although the slippery eel prefers to do it the difficult way and make the king guess instead. Luckily for Jade though, [Name] seems to like the ones that play hard to get the most, so the influx of gifts being sent to the twin's shared room in Octavinelle skyrockets. Poor Floyd is so annoyed at being buried in fancy gift boxes, give him a rest already.

🐬  The amount of side-eye that this man gets from Azul whenever [Name] comes into Monstrou Lounge all decked out in gold and jewels is downright atrocious. Jade loves his otherworldly himbo boy toy, but it's becoming a bother to try and steer his childhood friend's schemes away from him at this point. Especially since a few of those accessories radiate a foreign magical signature and the Seven knows how power-hungry that four-eyed takoyaki is. So [Name], if you would be so kind, stop broadcasting your vulnerability to the group of people who are known all around the college's campus for taking advantage of vulnerable people, you dumbass. Jade himself is a part of said group, he hopes that just because he and the Parthevian native are in a certain relationship, the man won't assume he's a good person.

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“Oh my, you're still going on about that? I understand that you're magicless, but I doubt lying about your social status will help your situation. Honestly, I'm starting to believe you're having delusions.”  

 

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🐍  While Jamil appreciates that [Name] is trying to cheer him up, such vulgar words are- are unnecessary. Yeah, as much as I love our beautiful serpent man, he can be a bit dense. No matter what compliment, kind gesturing, or suggestive remark the king flings at him, he will immediately assume one of four things; 1. Those were meant to be passed onto Kalim, 2. They're trying to insult him in some way, 3. They need a favor from him, and 4. They're just trying to annoy him. But even then, Jamil can't ignore how hot-faced and tongue-tied he gets when [Name] pinches the brunette's chin between his large, calloused fingers and plants a searing kiss on his lips. Or how the Sindrian man leads him away to take a break and runs his fingers through his long dark brown hair.

🐍  As soon as the words ‘I'm also the king of’ left the handsome worldhoppers lips, Jamil could only let out a long resigned sigh. Of course [Name] was royalty, which explains why that man is so childish and irresponsible; running around and leaving masses for other people to pick up. The Al Asim servant resented the charismatic man quite a bit after that revelation; going as far as to slap his hands away whenever the other tried to touch him. Jamil will feel a bit bad after a while though, [Name] hadn't done anything wrong and he was taking his frustration over his situation with Kalim out on a third party. Thankfully the foreigner accepted his apology immediately and even offered to take him and his sister back to Sindria with him, how sweet.

🐍  Once again this serpentine man assumes that all kind words and gift-like objects being given to him are things that he's meant to pass to Kalim, and he does just that. It was only [Name]’s asking whether or not the gifts he had given him were useful and Kalim pointing out that the gifts were addressed to him by name that Jamil finally got it through his thick skull. This time, surprisingly, it was the Al Asim prince who was exasperated at his servant and not the other way around. The prince even made it a point to tell people to give all gifts meant for him directly to him so that they'd leave his servant be. (responsible Kalim for the win!) Looking over his now recovered gifts, Jamil couldn't help but flush at how costly they were. The thought of [Name] spending so much money to please him made the basketball player both embarrassed and endeared.

🐍  At first he didn't really notice them, but after being pulled against the muscled chest of his word-hopping fling(?), he was smooshed onto the business end of a few of the man's familiar-looking accessories. The imprint of a six-pointed star was on the side of Jamil’s forehead for days after that, to which the idiot whose arms he was in made a joke about him having a shiny forehead. [Name] got a good bonk on the head after that. The Sindrian man had once shown Jamil a djinn that dwelled inside his necklace, but after seeing the look that the serpentine man was giving the djinn, [Name] decided to keep the rest to himself. Now, the dark brunette gets frequent reminders that, if he so chose, the foreign king would take him with him when he eventually went back to Sindria.

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

“You'll take me back with you? You'd really do that for me? Then please… remember you said these words to me… and take me away from this place when the time comes.”  

 

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

🏹  Well [Name], prepare to be outdone by a true professional. Rook will make the foreign man swoon so hard it's not even funny. The Parthevian native wants to pin this hunter to a tree, oh, haha look, now he himself is against that tree while the bob-headed blonde attacks his neck in between whispers of recherché poetry that he wrote earlier that day. That Sindrian king is lounging on a blanket in the wooded area just on the outskirts of the Pomfiore dorm campus and trying to coax the Frenchman onto his lap? Oh my, what's this? [Name] is now practically nude as Rook kisses and caresses each and every inch of his muse's warm muscular body. Somehow the blonde finds this thing the two have going on to be even more thrilling than a hunt.

🏹  His lovely muse is a king? It looks like [Name] has another new pet name courtesy of a certain huntsman. In fact, it's become Rook's favorite pet name, so his darling muse and everyone else in his vicinity is going to be hearing the words ‘Mon Roi’ as often as they breathe. Oh, this bob-headed blonde is dying to know what kind of wildlife is back in Sindria; he can describe beauteous landscapes in his poetry, what newfound fauna could be his prey, ah what thrilling thoughts he has. Since [Name] is the king, he'd certainly let Rook hunt to his heart's content, right~? You can't just tell him about all these curious little creatures and then ban him from hunting them; such a tease the otherworldly man is being, how cruel.~

🏹  The feeling of being spoiled with gifts by [Name] reminds him of how Vil ‘saved him’ during his first year when he was still in Savanaclaw. Although, Rook could never think back on his experience in his old dorm negatively; his roots are firmly planted in the Afterglow Savana after all. But instead of a haircut and rigorous skin care, he was given the best hunting equipment money could buy, and when it came to [Name]’s money, well there was a lot of it. As Rook's lovely Mon Roi told him, the greatest hunters are those who aren't afraid to become a beast themselves for the sake of the hunt.  These new intricate daggers that he was gifted seem to have quite the resemblance to fangs do they not?

🏹  Rook doesn't bother too much when it comes to his Mon Roi's jewelry, it's simply a token of a faraway home in his eyes; the hunter himself has many of his own. Yes, the bob-headed blonde does in fact notice that his otherworldly muse's adornments emanate a mystical aura and glow from time to time and yes the poetry enthusiast also knows that the giant blue figures that [Name] calls djinn do live in the ones with stars engraved on them, but he could care less. What Rook is really interested in is having his dearest muse hold that pose while he captures how the light bounces off the gold and jewels that draped across [Name]’s naked chest in this portrait. The hunter made sure to hang the paintings on the wall opposite his bed so that he could see his magnetic Mon Roi when he woke up every morning.

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“Ah~ Mon Roi, the tales you have given me do you no justice. You are far more magnifique than these simple words can capture. It seems that I have found myself a challenge to overcome; I must bid you adieu.~”  

 

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⚡  He keeps swearing up and down that he's been cursed by the otherworldly man; why else would he be feeling so odd around him after every interaction!? Sebek has been feeling flushed, and sweaty all over, having racing thoughts, been unable to sleep, and has continuously been stumbling over his words since he met [Name]! This has to be a curse; the half-fae wasn't experiencing any of these symptoms before! Even after Sebek demanded a duel in order for the foreigner to release the spell, to which wrestling on the bed was the request by the perpetrator, the curse only got worse! Now his mind is only occupied with thoughts of [Name] at any given moment; but he needs those thoughts for Waka-Sama, not some random human witch man!!!

⚡  So, the witchy human claims to be a king? HAH! Fat chance! There's no way Sebek would believe such an obvious farce, just who does this human take him for? The only royalty worth any salt is clearly his Waka-Sama, didn't you know? This half-fae knows what that human ‘king’ is up to, that man is just trying to lie his way into Waka-Sama's good graces, that's the only explanation! Even if Sebek knows that [Name] walks with the same regal posture as Malleus and knows that he has the same aura as Lilia does whenever they're sparring during swordsmanship lessons, he just won't accept it. And no, he will not accept a duel to change his mind.

⚡  A new sword and armor that cost millions of madol? Denied. As if Sebek would accept anything from some lowly human that definitely has plans to hurt Waka-Sama, he's not an idiot. Even if that sword looks expertly crafted and the blade is magically reinforced to cut through concrete like butter, h‐he's not interested in [Name]’s wicked wares! Ah, but… the weight of the blade is pretty good and the handle is very comfortable to grip onto… oh, and the hand guard is customizable too… A‐ah! Sebek wasn't admiring the craftsmanship, he was– he was just making sure that [Name] didn't place a curse on this sword is all. Yeah, that's it. What? No, he won't give it back, it was a gift, wasn't it? N‐not that a proud fae warrior like himself needs gifts from lowly humans!

⚡  Poor [Name] no matter what he does, Sebek continues his tsundere behavior. If the Sindrian king were to show the half-fae his djinn or metal vessels, who knows what he'd be accused of? Probably something like kidnapping his djinn and holding them against their will or saving a metal vessel for Malleus so he can trap him inside. But, if not that, Sebek would likely say that he has them for nefarious purposes. Whatever, [Name] better go back to the drawing board.

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“HUMAN! Remove this curse you've cast upon me at once, it's interfering with my duties to Waka-Sama! Wha- You still have the gall to lie right to my face!?”  

. . .

❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

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[bbyboybucket]

So I wrote up all this stuff weeks ago and drafted it and forgot about it until I seen these tags from @kahuna-burger

And they are absolutely right. And I’m so glad someone agrees with me on this analogy, because this is EXACTLY how I see him, and exactly what I get into below. This is the whole thing I was writing up previously:

“The winter soldier was treated like a living weapon.”

Mmm, yes. The whole living weapon thing is not a wrong metaphor. But I’d argue that there’s something else far more accurate (aka what the now added tags say).

He wasn’t their weapon. He was their dog. In such an uncanny way, almost literal sense. I wouldn’t even say a guard dog, I’d actually say he was Hydra’s hunting dog.

I mean think about it. Really. They actually treated him like a dog.

He wears a harness. He wears a fucking muzzle for gods sake.

But that’s just the bare minimum of similarities.

What do they do when he gets out of line? To punish him, to put make him obey and learn to fall back into good behavior? They shock him. Just like how people have always used shock collars and electric fences for dogs. When he’s been “bad”, when he does something he’s not supposed to, he gets shocked to correct that behavior.

They also smack him and get physical. People don’t do that with weapons. There’s no point in that. And you wouldn’t wanna damage or harm a weapon. But people do smack dogs. They hit their dogs when they don’t behave or do something wrong because harm, pain, and damage will teach it. Just like it teaches him. And they’ll heal so it’s not a concern.

He was trained to obey commands. Just like dogs. He does any little thing he’s told because he’s conditioned with a rewards system. He even has specific command words that trigger compliance. Just like you teach a dog to sit or roll over with trigger words, he has em too. I mean literally, he has a Pavlovian response to said words. And what was the original Pavlov experiment done on? A dog. The only difference is he doesn’t get physical treats. His treat is praise, which they manipulated him into being desperate for. They even go as far to incentivize him with this praise (think about the bank scene, where Pierce praises him), just like you would present a dog with a treat when you want it to do a trick. Hell, actually praise is a way you reward dogs too, because they listen and learn when you tell them they’re a “good boy, good dog”.

Hydra asserts their dominance over him just in case he turns on them, just to remind of who’s the “alpha”. Because they know (just like big dog owners) that he can tear them up, he can attack and shred them to pieces, but if he thinks he’s not the “alpha” then he’ll back down.

And yeah, he’s protective and reliant on his “owners” like most dogs would be. But like I said, not just a guard dog. A hunting dog. Because just like people teach their dogs to track down and go after bears, squirrels, dear, etc. he was also taught how to track down stuff to kill. Stuff that his owner wanted dead. That’s his whole purpose, to hunt for them.

Also, think about how Hydra obtained him. It’s like if a person saw an injured dog in a ditch, brought it to a vet to heal up, then took it home to have as their own pet. Because that’s exactly what they did with him. It’s just the owner was an abusive one.

He wasn’t treated like some expensive tank or powerful arsenal of guns. He was treated like well trained hunting dog.

[cecoeur]

you're so real for that post about liam though, bc as soon as i was done jumping around my living room in excitement about max winning the wdc, i checked where liam finished and couldn't help but feel so angry bc what has liam proven over daniel?? he's been outpaced by yuki by a huge margin and is always getting into some sort of incident with others on track (he touched esteban's car today) and yet f1tv were trying to praise his performance today when in reality he's an average driver.

The thing with him is that I could have accepted if he was the choice for 2025. If the end result was them reverting to a "junior team” and Lawson getting the seat, so be it. If that had meant the end of Daniel's career in F1 I would have been mad at Red Bull for still ultimately screwing him over but I would have enjoyed the hell out of those last 6 races and celebrated him, his career, and the joy he brought to so many people. I honestly probably could've gotten over being angry at Red Bull and wouldn't care about Lawson one iota because even now my feeling about him there in 2025 is...good luck (and he'll be there in 2025). He can have that seat and whatever unfortunate end comes with it because the trajectory of that team and anyone in it does not look promising. I hope for his sake he learns from others and doesn't hitch his wagon to the Red Bull dream because historically that has panned out well for very few drivers.

What I'm mad about (now and forevermore) is this season and the insistence that Daniel HAD to be replaced with 6 races left. I'm mad that they claimed he wasn't performing consistently to the standard they wanted but is also the only driver held to any such standard. I'm mad that the response from the media to literally every other driver struggling is, "oh you just have to feel for him" when Daniel was the subject of a witch hunt the entire season. I'm mad that they drove him out of this sport and did so quite gleefully. I'm mad that they continue to rewrite his career and accomplishments and erase his very existence within the Red Bull team and "family". I'm mad that he should've gotten to end his career on the track in Abu Dhabi at the end of the season with friends, family, former colleagues and with fireworks and burnouts and celebration for him and his career and what he brought to the sport but instead his career ended in Singapore in the dark of parc ferme as he sat alone struggling to get out of the car while fireworks popped in the distance celebrating someone else. All so lawson could get 2 points in 4 races for "the good of the team's future".

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 5. Other Parts Word count: 3,8k words Short summary: Reader is preparing her escape, slowly losing it over her confusing feelings. Sabo is in his stalker era. AN: Dear God, I don't know what took over me when writing this. Let me begin with saying I don't condone stalking irl, this is just a silly self-indulgent fic. There is also mentions of a knife at one point, more as a joke, but it's there. Still nothing graphic. Smut will come in the next one, which will also be the last part. Thank you for reading!💕

MDNI 18+

(This man is way too pretty for his own good)

___

Almost three days had passed since Y/N became aware of Sabo’s true identity. And of the real threat he posed to her. He was dangerous, not just because he probably could crush her windpipe with little to no effort.

No, the real reason Sabo was so dangerous was because of his goddamn charm. Always helpful, always making her flustered. Always making her laugh against her will. It was still impossible for her to keep it together when she was near him.

He was playing a sick, sadistic game with her feelings. He wanted to kill her for god sake! And, even though those horrid facts were clear to her, Y/N’s heart still wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw him.

And that was probably saying more about how messed up she was. Desperately clinging to the first person that ever showed her concern, even though she knew it was fake. Pathetic.

She kept having this one recurring dream. Being alone in a dark room, until the door suddenly opens, and Sabo walks with a smug grin on his face.

He stands behind her, places her wrists behind her back, and then proceeds to let his hands travel all over her body. Cold leather from his gloves caressing her skin as he presses soft kisses down her neck and back.

His movements growing more impatient as he takes a strong grip around her hair, pulling her against him. Then, just before the dream ends, his other hand snakes around her neck, cutting the air from entering her lungs.

And it excites her! Y/N always wakes up feeling hot and tingly after that dream, which means that something must be seriously wrong with her.

The man wants to kill her and she gets excited by the thought of him choking her?! That can’t be normal, it just can’t.

Besides her internal crises that she still had the hots for her future potential murderer, everything else was going as planned. 

After spending a half-day crying over the fact that the handsome, cruel man had tricked her just for his own pleasure, Y/N finally pulled herself together and started planning her escape. She was not willingly staying in this cursed base just to later be dragged to the execution stand.

So she had made a list, things she needed to secure her safety once she left. All the things she had spent the last few days gathering. Things that now were securely kept in a bag in her closet. 

She had also visited the small library more than once, reading every book on wilderness survival she could find. Memorizing pictures of what plants were safe to eat and which ones she should avoid. It wouldn’t exactly be ideal if she ran away from torture and her own murder, just to then die of food poisoning.

Y/N had done all these things, and she was painfully aware of the fact that she had been watched. 

Sabo was always near, following her like some curious cat, trying to figure out what the mouse he was hunting was doing. She was the mouse in this scenario, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. 

He looked amused the entire time too, huge grin on his face, probably getting some twisted sense of pleasure from watching her from afar. It was annoying, and Y/N was pretty sure stalking counted as a crime. But so was trying to overthrow the World Government, so Sabo might just not care that he was breaking the law.

It didn’t matter anyways, she had already gathered everything she needed and her planned escape was happening tomorrow.

She was currently pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten about something. 

Who was she kidding, she most definitely had.

She hadn’t stepped foot outside the castle gates her entire life before two weeks ago, and now she was planning to survive out in the wilderness all by herself. It was a recipe for disaster.

But if the choice was between dying of hypothermia in freedom, or in the hands of the Revolutionary Army and her handsome tormentor, Y/N would choose freezing cold freedom everyday of the week.

Suddenly, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Jane Doe, you in there?” An obnoxious, honey-sweet voice could be heard on the other side.

Hate that stupid nickname.

He seriously needed to stop doing this. For the last couple of mornings, at the same time everyday, Sabo had knocked on her door, asking if she was there.

And Y/N never answered, pretending that she wasn’t in the room. He usually stayed outside for a few minutes before he left, which was probably going to be the case today too.

She heard Sabo let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if you’re there, but I’m coming in.” He stated, like he wasn’t about to invade the last personal space she had at this godforsaken base.

Goddamnit… She had locked the door, right?  

No, this wasn’t the time to take any chances, she needed to hide. Who knew what god awful thing he would do to her if he found her.

Y/N quickly scanned the room for a hiding spot. Under the bed was too obvious, even she knew that. As her eyes landed on the small built-in closet, she heard the doorknob starting to turn. She didn’t have the time to be picky, she needed to hide, now!

Just as she had slid the closet shut, the bedroom door flew open. The small wooden planks of the closet door barely gave her any vision of the room, but the gap was wide enough to see Sabo mindlessly walk in. Not a care in the world, like he belonged in there.

‘He wishes.’ Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes.

Then she noticed that he was looking at the closet, straight at her, with a serious look that spelled nothing but trouble. She could swear that her heart was trying to crack her ribcage open by how hard it was beating.

She put her hands over her mouth, careful to not make a sound, as Sabo’s eyes lingered on her hiding spot for a few more seconds. Then an amused grin spread over his face, before he turned around and started to look around her room.

Dear God, that had been a close call.

“Are you hiding from me, Angel?” Sabo chuckled, bending down to look under the bed.

Since his blatant fake confession he had called her that from time to time. Some new way to play tricks on her mind for sure. And Y/N always berated herself when she heard it, because it made her stupid heart flutter every time.

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Besides studying up on how to survive on her own, she had read a few books on psychology during her visits to the library. In those she had learned about this thing called *Stockholm Syndrome*, basically when a captive believes they are in love with their capturer. 

And Y/N had let out a sigh of relief when she read that. It explained every warm feeling she had for the man that she was 95% sure wanted to chop her head off in front of a crowd. The other 5%, well… that was the dumb sliver of hope that still lingered in the back of her mind. 

A sliver of hope that she consciously ignored. She wasn’t in her right mind, she had been manipulated by that handsome devil, and the strange thoughts she had about him couldn’t be trusted.

She had to stick to what she knew, and that was that Revolutionaries hated Nobles with a burning passion. At least, that had to be the case when the revolutionary in question was their Second in Command.

The closet walls were starting to feel cramped as she continued to watch Sabo mindlessly prance around her bedroom. He picked up her pillow, brought it to his face and let out a low groan as he took a deep inhale through his nose, making Y/N really question the man’s sanity. Was he trying to memorize her scent in case he had to hunt her down? 

What was he? A goddamn bloodhound or something?

She let out a quiet scoff when he put the pillow back, seeing a satisfied look on his face. She shouldn't have done that.

His eyes zeroed in on her again, a wicked smile spreading over his lips, making Y/N forget how to breathe. 

A shiver went down her spine as she watched Sabo move closer, stopping right outside the closet. He was so close she could feel him towering over her through the door. 

“Are you in here, Angel? Please answer if you are.” 

Dear God, please don’t open it.

Someone was apparently listening to her prayer, since he abruptly turned around, when Y/N was just seconds from passing out due to the lack of air in her lungs.

“Bummer, guess she’s not here then.” Sabo said in a monotone voice, putting his hand to his cheek in a dramatic manner.

He started to walk towards the door. She couldn’t believe it, she was actually going to get through this without being found.

Then, Sabo stopped in the middle of his step, right as he walked by her dresser. He carefully opened the top draw, which wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

“Hmm�� I might as well since I’m already here.” He snickered as he took something out and stuffed it in his pocket, quickly leaving the room right after.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Y/N fell out of the closet and landed on the floor. Too shocked from what she just had witnessed.

“Did- did he just steal my underwear?” She whispered to herself, as she felt a warm flush spread over her face.

Was Sabo a pervert?

Because that would explain sooo much. She laid on the floor, pondering on her theory for a few moments, before she rolled over on her back and let out a weird, nervous laugh.

“Yes, definitely a pervert… Just gonna add that to the list of reasons why he needs to be avoided at all cost.” Y/N concluded, questioning how she had gotten herself in this situation to begin with.

___

So fucking angelic.

There was no other way of describing her. Even though she had actively been avoiding him for the past few days and making him watch her from afar. 

But Sabo could forgive that. She was obviously planning something, and the most optimistic part of himself had convinced him that it was going to be a surprise.

He didn’t know what kind of surprise yet, but he looked forward to it. A little too much in fact.

He had watched his Angel gather all sorts of things, swiping snacks from the pantry when she thought no one was looking. Snatching blankets and other fabrics from the laundry, candles and matches from the storage. 

All things that were needed for a romantic date. 

Sabo still wasn’t sure why she needed all the tools she stole from the supply closet, nor did he understand what she was going to use a tarp for.

But he almost lost his shit yesterday when he saw her sneak a rope into her bag. If his, quite frankly, dirty mind was right and she wanted him to tie her up with it, he might have to marry her on the spot. 

The knife however, that was still a bit concerning… But hey, he was willing to try out whatever she had in mind at least once.

No matter what she was doing, these past few days had convinced him.

She had continued to play their little game, even though the rules had changed a bit. AND, she was planning a romantic surprise for him. That girl understood him so well.

She liked him, maybe just as much as he liked her, if that even was possible.

Sabo knew his obsession was starting to get a little out of hand. Or in all honesty, “a little” would be an understatement. 

He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal. Watching her go about her day, keeping tabs on where she was, at what time in the morning she was leaving her bedroom and when she usually returned. Putting it in a more brutal way, he was stalking her.

God- that girl brought out dark things in him he wasn’t even aware were there before. Last night he spent at least two hours convincing himself that, sneaking into her room through her window while she was sleeping, wasn’t a good idea. 

It wasn’t, he knew that. No matter how much that girl had messed with his moral compass, he knew that it would be crossing a line.

But he just wanted to hear the sweet voice he had been deprived of hearing for the last few days, even if it was her yelling at him to get out.

That’s why he went to see her this morning, to talk to her. Not about anything special, he just wanted to see her pretty mouth move, until his mind was filled with nothing but the sweet sound of her voice.

Sabo knew she had been in there, observation haki really becoming handy in these kinds of situations. But she hid in her closet when he stepped into her room.

And if she wanted to play Hide and Seek, who was he to deprive her of that fun? 

Plus, he had gotten a little prize for playing along.

Still, things had started to become a little boring for him.

At first, it had been exciting seeing her turn a corner every time he was near. Watching her look over her shoulder to see if he was there. It was twisted- but fuck- just knowing she was constantly thinking about him brought him so much joy.

Even if she was doing it in an attempt to avoid him, Sabo couldn’t be mad about it. She was obviously still trying to muster up the courage to face him after his blatant confession.

It was cute.

He had imagined her confessing her feelings for him so many times at this point. Nervous stutters leaving her mouth, a flustered blush spreading over her face.

God- Just the thought made him want to do unspeakable things to that poor girl. 

And in any normal case, Sabo was nothing but patient. With her however, not so much. 

Like previously stated, watching her had been fun for a while. But he was done with just watching now, he wanted to be with her. Being close to her, talking to her, teasing her. Seeing her smile, laugh or just resting peacefully on his chest.

So, at this moment he was in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and going over his options on how to best approach her.

Jane Doe was sitting at a table a bit further away, reading a book in peace. Looking absolutely angelic.

Besides the two of them, the rest of the room was empty. And dammit, if there hadn’t been so many unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out first, he would probably pin her to that table right this moment.

Hitching that cute, little skirt up over her hips as he left kisses up and down her gorgeous legs. Teasing her to the brink of insanity until she begged him to touch her. Eating her out like a man starved for food-

Yeah, that was definitely not happening yet.

The second best option was to go over there, trying to make her flustered enough to at least blush. Which shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.

So Sabo did just that, walking over with a statement that was suggestive enough in mind. He stopped right behind her chair, bending down close to her ear, feeling a bit amused when he saw her flinch.

“You know, I had this dream last night- and fuck- your hands felt so soft against my skin. Like an Angel touching my very soul.” He said in a low voice, blowing a puff of hot air against her neck.

It was true, he really dreamt that last night. He had been kinda pissed off when he woke, not wanting the wonderful dream to end.

And he knew how much his little nickname affected her, she was so bad at hiding her true feelings.

“Dear God, why?” The girl asked under her breath, making Sabo chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down across from her.

“Why? Cause you’re cute, and funny, and ignoring me. So you’re obviously my type.” He stated, watching her mindlessly turn to the next page in her book.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She answered, looking up at him for the first time.

��Perfect.” Sabo sighed, getting completely lost in her eyes.

He barely had the chance to catch the pretty blush that spread over her face, before she turned her head down.

But it was there, he saw it, and it made his chest fill with pride. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he could still make her flustered anytime he wanted to.

“Are you bothered by me being here?” He asked, giving her a teasing smile.

“Yes. I want to be alone.” She said curtly in response, not paying him more attention than necessary.

It was selfish, and probably a bit dumb. But Sabo wanted her attention to be on him, and not on some stupid book. What was so interesting about it anyways, for her to not look at him? He was way more interesting-

God, he really needed to seek professional help, didn't he? He was jealous over a fucking book.

“What are you reading anyway?” He scoffed, failing to keep his displeasure in.

“None of your business.” She snapped back, voice deprived of any warmth.

Shit, was she annoyed? That couldn’t be good…

“Why are you so snappy today?” Sabo asked, needing to know if all of it was just in his head.

“I’m not.” She bit out, jaw visibly clenching. 

If it was one thing Sabo took pride in, it was that he was good at reading people. But not this girl apparently, making her an exception in yet another way. 

He must have fucked up big during the last couple of days for her to be this mad with him. Was it the stalking? Had he taken it too far? 

“Yes you are. Did I do something to make you upset? I’ll try to fix it if you tell me.” He said, trying to reach for her hand, but she quickly moved it away.

“I said I’m not. Just drop it.” 

Was this their first fight? 

Sabo might not have been in any real long term relationship before, but he wanted this to work. He needed this to work, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from being rejected by her. 

He knew that communication was important in any healthy relationship, so her avoiding the topic wasn’t going to cut it.

“I will drop it, if you tell me what’s wrong. I don’t want you to be angry at me and-”

“Can you just back the fuck off and leave me alone?” She said with an irritated tone, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

Oh fuck, she’s mad mad.

She swore… she actually swore. That was a word Sabo thought he never would hear leave his Angel's beautiful mouth.

Was this about the underwear? He knew she had been hiding in the closet when he “borrowed” them, but he didn’t think she would be this angry about it.

“Is this about what I took from your room? Because I was going to give-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”

“Okay, so I must have done something else then… I'm sorry?” He said, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

She didn’t say anything more. She just let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the book shut, leaving it on the table and walked away. Leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts.

Goddamnit!

He messed up, this was not how he wanted things to go. Had he been wrong the entire time? Had she actually been mad at him, and was that the reason she avoided him to begin with? Had they not just been playing their usual silly game?

Fuck, maybe had he come on too strong three days ago. He did choke her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the reason. But she said she liked it, right?

Sabo was about to go crazy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, when his eyes landed on the green cover of the book she had been reading.

He picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him.

“ *Outdoor Survival for Beginners*- what the actual?” He flipped through the pages, as something clicked in his brain. “Shit-”

Jane Doe was planning on running away…

It all made sense now. Why she avoided him, why she had gathered all those different things. Why she had been so defensive just moments ago.

(Why she hadn’t told him she liked him too.)

She was leaving, and she didn’t want anything left behind. It made sense, he would do the same thing if he knew he was leaving. It was plain cruel to confess your feelings to someone, just to be gone a few days later.

That’s why he had confessed to her. He wasn’t exactly planning on leaving her anytime soon, and he wanted her to know that.

Still, the only thing that didn’t make sense was her reason. Why would she want to run away?

She liked it here, Sabo saw how happy she looked whenever she helped around the base. How well she got along with Koala. How peaceful she had looked that morning when she slept on his chest.

In fact, why was she even hiding her identity to begin with? He hadn’t thought about it more than in passing, his mind usually being too preoccupied with holding his urges back around her.

Something wasn’t right…

“I might have to speed some things up.” Determination took over him.

Her plan was batshit crazy to begin with. She couldn’t even cook, how the fuck was she going to survive alone in the woods? She would die, hungry, freezing and alone, within a couple of days.

Sabo couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he cared for again. Not after Ace-

No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. 

He had a few very urgent house calls to make.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 06 - ep. 07)

Uh, not Li Lun, out of all people, making everyone finally question why Zhu Yan actually killed Yichen's brother and all those people years ago. We know he lost control over his malicious energy, but why didn't anyone ask him why it happened? Come on, people, you seem to be so smart))

Well, Wen Xiao seems to be accepting enough to not care about what our gorgeous Demon Lord has done in the past, which is quite refreshing. Ambiguous, morally grey characters need more unconditional love (especially when they're, uh, 34,000 years old? XD). But he doesn't even seem to be so 'grey' at this point - he's doing too many good things right now.

The whole thing with being a 'vessel for malicious energy' is quite intriguing. Was he born like that? Can he actually stop 'the cycle of rebirth'? Why did he 'lose control' after so many years of cultivation? I'm also trying to figure out the timeline - the killings must have happened after he dropped Wen Xiao off at what seemed to be the gates to the demon-hunting bureau. But she wasn't staying there when that stuff happened? Did his demonic self come back there just to wreak havoc or for some other reason? Was Li Lun involved? Mmmm, the plot is deliciously mysterious, I will have to wait to get those answers.

Also, I can't even be angry with Li Lun at this point, although he's playing the bad guy now - the poor baby was so visibly hurt when Zhu Yan called him a scumbag. And that painful look he had when our Demon Lord thought something along the lines 'screw you, I know how to wake this boy up from his nightmare' and pierced himself with Yichen's sword (which, uh, seems to be quite a recurring motif and the symbolism of it isn't escaping me, nope XD). In the world of jianghu, the next best thing you can do to show you CARE apart from cutting sleeves is to stab (or get stabbed by) the person you care about. Or get stabbed FOR the person you care about.

I also love how effortlessly Yichen is third-wheeling without creating a feeling that he's actually third-wheeling XD Wen Xiao is obviously biased towards Zhu Yan, now even more so that she knows he IS that Great Demon who accompanied her and the Bai Ze Goddess all those years ago. I would totally trust him, too, if I were her. I also love the messed-up dynamic of a former caretaker/child who's grown up because now Zhu Yan definitely doesn't give us those parental vibes, he's oozing sensuality wherever he goes (and him pretending to be all hurt so she stays with him, ahah, that whole sequence was cute and hilarious). And Zhu Yan saying something along the lines that they now get to 'meet all over again' - was it to build a new relationship with her from scratch? M-hmm, yummy, utterly delicious :D

And you can see how Yichen kinda sorta admits defeat in the way Wen Xiao no longer needs his protection against the 'big bad demon' (the man is using his big bad demonic energy to push her swing, for Christ's sake XD), but still can't let the other man go so easily because of REASONS and that 'you'll have to pay for your sins either way' thing still going on between them. Zhu Yan does know what buttons to push when it comes to Yichen, but the feeling seems to be quite mutual (they're cute together and their interactions are so yummy 😍). That scene at the temple is EVERYTHING. And then at Zhu Yan's mansion with the swing. Is he swinging both ways? Ahah XD For a 34,000-year-old being I don't see how that could be an issue)))

Okay, cutting and piercing still seem to be the show's love language and I APPROVE (never had a kink like that, but there's a first thing for everything, I guess XD). The undertones just make it all so yum))

The introduction of the new character, Yinglei, was hilarious))) We also find out that the Wilderness is crumbling down, which makes the whole Bai Ze token thing even more important.

/and I've finally reached the picture limit in one tumblr post, ahah XD/

[astradyke]

hey so I've been a casual Dan & Phil fan for years but never really a part of the fandom. Recently started scrolling thru the tag and like...did I miss something? Have they actually said for real for real that they dated? Like I'm queer and tbh 2 gay guys living together for that long have to at least done *something* but I'm not an rpf person (no shade) but I do wanna be up to date on the Dan and Phil facts (phacts?) Obviously they're some kinda soulmates but tbh I know some queerplatonic soulmates who aren't *together* so idk if that's them or not. Am I missing receipts or is their relationship presumed given their whole situationship? Genuinely asking and no shade to your shipping intended.

hiya! i'll try to be succinct here but i might totally miss some things as a heads up :P

In Basically I'm Gay on the Daniel Howell channel, the same monologue that led to the description of them as soulmates also included the statement: "And that was when, through the magic of the Internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends, but it was more than just romantic [...] The relationship we formed, at that point, was something that I needed in my life." Despite "relationship" being a neutral, versatile term, the preceding sentence confirms they've been in an explicitly romantic relationship. along with that explicit confirmation, we also know from several other relics from 2009-2011 in particular that the two were at the very least actively flirting (I can retrieve a few formsprings for you that point to this if u want just lmk!). Additionally, in 2010, Phil made a privated video addressed to Dan that explicitly confirms a romantic relationship; this video was unprivated via a YouTube glitch in September 2011 and circulated heavily in late 2012. it was a serious incident that outed them and thus people don't talk much about it. I've never seen it in full-- it's pretty much off the Internet entirely due to copyright strikes-- and I really solely bring it up for context that they were dating at that period in time.

Basically I'm Gay only indicates a past romantic relationship, leaving their current one ambiguous, and both Dan and Phil's respective coming out videos state that they want to keep their personal dating lives private (both of these videos were released in 2019). Since then, though, there's one other explicit confirmation of their relationship-- I had a difficult time hunting down this exact interview in entirety, but my lovely mutual freckliedan helped me find the relevant screenshot:

[ID: In bold, the interviewer's text says: "So, just like a normal gay couple then?" Below, Dan's response is not in bold, and says, "Basically, yeah."]

I was able to find another screenshot at this post as well, which has the actual context confirming that they were discussing Phil previous to this. Now, obviously, this interviewer was a little forward in their questions, so I understand any reluctance in considering Dan's response-- however, Dan is a professional, and if he was sincerely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, I have faith in his ability to avoid answering it altogether. I therefore assume he knew what he was doing, and that this can be taken as a valid statement. This was from 2023 iirc.

Both of these excerpts-- from Basically I'm Gay and from this interview-- do suggest that Dan and Phil have a romantic relationship. On top of both of these more concrete confirmations, there's a lot more information/statements they've made public that corresponds with a romantic relationship, even if none of them are technically exclusive to romantic relationships.

A brief list: They've lived together for approximately 13-15 years, and bought a house together with a mortgage (for brevity's sake, I'll exclude other things that kind of pair with this). They make frequent sex jokes on their channel, several of which stating things about the other's sexual preferences. They recently went on holiday together, just the two of them, and given the tourism biz and how they discussed the holiday it seems like they were in a place intended for couples. Phil's sister in law, Cornelia, refers to Dan as an uncle to her child. They use pet names for each other. They frequently joke with the phandom, riffing off of jokes about their relationship (reacting to posts saying they are in a situationship, making a joke about having a joint toilet, etc.) This is most arguable, but it's highly likely that they share a bed as well (again, going off of the images/videos they've shown us of 'Dan's bedroom'). Lastly, other interviews with Dan include him being highly verbose about his relationship with Phil, but he's referred to him briefly as his "husband" in a long list of other words like "soulmates" and "just mates", ending with "who the fuck knows?", in one past interview (I have a picture of this but I can't attach it rn I can find it if you'd like though!)

It's not impossible that Dan and Phil's relationship isn't currently romantic, and even operating off of the assumption that it is, there's information we don't know about that (whether they're monogamous or polyamorous, for example, or whether or not they share a bed). It honestly just seems unlikely that their relationship is queerplatonic, given the past statements indicating that it has been romantic historically and the interview (+ supplemental evidence) suggesting that it currently is (I am very aware of the variation in QPRs, though, so I'm sympathetic to that interpretation from folks. However, I also understand that many explicitly romantic partnerships are considered to be QPRs-- in media or with real people-- in a way that contributes to gay erasure. It's nuanced and I am not the person best equipped to eloquently discuss it). Obviously, just to underscore here, we are not owed any information about their personal lives and the vast majority (if not the entirety) of the phandom just riffs off of the information they tell us, all of which happen to point to a romantic relationship. They clearly don't have any discomfort in us assuming this, and I personally don't believe they'll ever give us any more conclusive statement about their relationship any time soon, given that they've told us enough that the implication of a romantic partnership is pretty solidly there.

TLDR: Dan and Phil have "hard launched" (AKA released information that portrays their relationship as irrefutably romantic) 2-3 times. There is also other more indirect information that seems to confirm a romantic relationship, though if one wanted to, it could be read as non-romantic-- however, given those conclusive statements, and the current way they treat phandom commentary about their relationship (AKA not giving a shit), it is the effective conclusion that they are in a romantic relationship. Other conclusions, such as them being queerplatonic or them having broken up, seem to rely on a lot of critical assumptions, while the idea that they are in a romantic relationship is in line with their own statements as well as what we generally see out of them.

Thank you for your patience and your very kind ask! PS calling it "phacts" is funny as fuck, I did not utilize that verbiage here through my reply but you were a visionary for this. have a lovely one :D

PS. If any folks want to add, or if I missed something when glancing back over this and corrections are needed, please please please share! I am so deeply not a phandom history i am simply a little guy! much love

[mama-qwerty]

Second Chances v1

Okay, here's the start of my de-aged Knux story. I like the beginning, but am not thrilled with what happens after she finds little Knux. I don't know what's bothering me about it, but it's just not jiving with me.

But I wrote 6200 words, so I'mma post it. I might rework it once I can figure out just where the problem is.

Calling it 'version 1' in case I tweak it and post again later.

~~~~~

The fire burned down, leaving just a few soft flickers of flame against the burning embers at the bottom of the fire pit. Two figures sat around it, on opposite sides. They sat in silence, watching as the last of the flames died down, the darkness of the night around them moving in to replace the light.

“All I’m saying is you could have come to me, and I would have helped you.” Callie’s voice was soft, but edged with frustration. “You aren’t out in those arenas anymore. You’re not on your own anymore. I’m here, and I can help you.”

The echidna across from her frowned, scratching at the bandage on his arm. It was sloppily applied; he’d injured himself during one of his training sessions, and tended to it himself without her assistance.

“No need,” Knuckles said, waving a hand. “I am capable of taking care of myself.”

She sighed. “I know you are, but you don’t have to. I’m here. All you have to do is come to me.”

He let out a huff, giving his head a shake. “I do not need your help.”

Callie rolled her eyes. This was a sensitive subject, but one she had tried again and again to instill upon him in the months since he’d come to live with her. Yes, he was the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. (Or had been, anyway.) But that life was behind him now. She was going to make sure that life was done, and he never had to feel alone and hunted again.

But he was a stubborn kid. Very, very stubborn. There’d been times when he’d come home looking as though he’d gone three rounds with a pissed off gorilla, and only offered a wave of his hand when she was, understandably, a bit freaked out by that. “I was training,” was his only explanation, which only raised further questions in her mind.

He was still acting like he was on his own, expecting an attack at every turn. She supposed it was second nature to him by now, having been on the run since he was so little, and it was unreasonable to expect that to fade. At all, let alone after only a few months.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated by it. And that she couldn’t try to show him that he didn’t have to take care of himself anymore. Not like that.

“Look,” she said, rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses before looking back at him. “I’m not saying you’re some little kid who needs his boo boos kissed. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I would hope that you trust me enough to let me know if you slice yourself open on one of your training runs.”

Knuckles clicked his tongue. “It was a minor wound. I’ve had much worse.”

“That’s not the point, and by the way, the blood all over my towels says otherwise. I thought you’d lost an arm with the mess you’d left behind.”

“You are overreacting.”

“Actually, I think I’m being quite calm and collected, all things considered,” she said, leaning forward to rest her forearms on her knees. “You’re not a child, but you’re still a kid who’s under my care, and I don’t think it’s out of line for me to want you to, you know, tell me when you nearly cut your arm off.”

He rolled his eyes and gave out a huff. “I did not—“

“Can you focus on what I mean instead of what I’m saying?”

“And can you not treat me as though I were some foolish child who needs supervised?”

“I’m not—“

“Enough!” Knuckles stood, rolling his shoulders. “I do not need tending like a puggle. I am a fierce warrior and do not need your coddling. I am grateful for your guidance and support, but your concern is misplaced.”

She sat up, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “For cripes’ sake, Knux, I don’t want to coddle you—“

“I am going to bed. Good night.”

And with that, the echidna stalked toward the house, leaving her by the dying fire.

Callie heaved a deep sigh, rubbing her temples with both hands.

“. . . I just want you to let me take care of you. At least a little.”

She heard the kitchen door slam, and gave a little groan.

That could have gone better.

~X~X~X~

Ridiculous.

Unnecessary.

Condescending.

Knuckles didn’t quite stomp, but didn’t quite not stomp up the stairs, pushing the door to his room open. He kicked it closed behind him, a soft growl in the back of his throat.

Take care of him. She wanted to ‘take care of him’? He took care of himself. He didn’t need her help for that. The only reason he was still alive after all these years was because he was strong and tough and self-reliant.

He tore open the velcro straps at the base of his gloves, giving his arms a sharp flick to send the heavy mitts flying. They bounced off the wall, landing on the floor with two solid thuds. The woman didn’t like when he did that, and would call out to remind him not to when she heard it.

Well, she wasn’t here right now, was she? He was a warrior. He didn’t need such rules.

With a grumble, he sat heavily on the mattress on the floor, shoving aside the curtain that hung over it in a tent-like covering. A few quick movements and his boots were loose enough to toe off. He used more force than necessary, sending them cartwheeling heel over toe into the door. More loud thuds as they settled on the floor, one on its side and the other upright.

He didn’t depend on others. He’d been shown time and time again that trusting others was a recipe for treachery and betrayal. Everyone he’d trusted had hurt him. Turned him in for rewards, used him for their own gain. Yet he continued to trust, continued to hope that someone would help him. Would be his friend.

His mother had praised his kind heart as a child, but now he wondered if it were more of a hindrance than advantage.

Flopping onto his back, he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes floating over the little painted dots there. Back when he first agreed to stay with her, Callie had brought Tails over to try and get as accurate a sky map as possible for those little dots. The clever fox had somehow found the positions of the constellations and stars over Knuckles’ village, and he and Callie had painstakingly painted each one to match those Knuckles had seen in his childhood.

It was a touching gesture. No one had ever gone so out of their way to make him comfortable. To give him a bit of familiarity to his home. He appreciated it.

But it made a tight knot twist behind his ribs when he looked up at them.

Because he couldn’t remember what the constellations were.

The knowledge seemed to flick at his consciousness, teasing the back of his mind, but when he tried to pull the names forward, wrap his tongue around them and throw them out, they disappeared back into his fading memories.

He was losing his connection to his people. His tribe.

The language that he’d been raised on, the words that once rolled off his tongue with ease, now took more effort to get right. Callie had encouraged him to share his mother tongue with her, which he appreciated, but sometimes when he said a word, it didn’t feel right on his lips. As though it were something he had no right to speak anymore.

He had learned a number of different languages in his travels—how many, he wasn’t sure, as there was a certain degree of overlap in a few—and sometimes it felt as though these new languages had almost pushed out his first. Smothered it.

And now, like the fire just a few moments before, there were only a few little embers left of what he remembered. His tribe. His customs. His language. His heritage.

Slowly dying.

He was the last. It was his duty to keep his culture intact. To not lose sight of who he is, what he is. To do so would dishonor the memory of his entire species.

His father.

Knuckles stared at the ceiling, at those little blobs of glowing paint, brow furrowed. He knew those stars, he knew them. He could hear his father naming them as he pointed. Could hear his voice, feel his father’s hand on his shoulder as he sat close by. Felt the soft breeze of the night as it rippled through his quills, while the others sat and chatted by the village fire.

He remembered all of this.

But the words, the syllables, refused to form.

A low growl rumbling in his chest, Knuckles rolled over to crawl into his artificial burrow. Yanking the curtain closed, he bundled himself beneath the thick blanket inside, curling into a tight ball. Shame burned in his belly, because it had taken so long to find the Master Emerald. It had taken nearly ten years to hunt it down. And in that time he had been so concerned with his own survival, he had lost his tether to the very reason he was doing it in the first place.

He missed his tribe. He missed his father. He missed feeling part of something, of being cared for. This planet was fine, one of the more comfortable ones he’d been on, but it wasn’t his home. This house wasn’t his home.

He wanted to go home. Back to when he didn’t feel so lost. So afraid.

So alone.

After a long moment, Knuckles drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a long, slow exhale. He’d been rude to Callie. She’d opened her home to him, and had never expected anything from him except courtesy in return. It was so different from what he’d experienced before—any other time he’d trusted others, they would have turned on him by now. She’d been nothing but kind to him.

Still. That seed of doubt poked at the back of his mind. Maybe it was time to stop being so trusting. To stop expecting anything other than betrayal. Despite her kindness, she could still turn on him. He had to be vigilant.

Soon after, his eyes began to close, and Knuckles the Echidna, last surviving member of his race, and guardian of the Master Emerald, fell asleep.

~X~X~X~

She should have handled that better.

Callie dumped a pitcher of water over the glowing embers in the fire pit, stirring it in with a poker to douse the last of the heat. As the wood hissed and smoked, she cursed herself for coming on too strong with Knuckles.

He was a proud kid. A fighter. A survivor. She knew that.

She really should have expected this reaction, honestly. Suggesting he needed to come to her simply because he’d injured himself? No matter how much blood she’d found in the bathroom—which had been a lot, and she may or may not have freaked out a little bit—she should have just let him come to her when he was ready.

But she didn’t. She pushed. And now she’d pushed him even farther away than he already was.

Once she was satisfied the fire had been adequately extinguished, Callie stood and pushed against the small of her back to produce that familiar crack. Massaging the area, she turned, and headed into the house.

She paused by Knuckles’ door as she headed down the hall to her own room. Leaning in, she heard a soft growl as he moved around. She supposed it was lucky he even came in instead of just wandering off into the trees surrounding her home. Sometimes he stayed out all night, and though she tried not to worry—he could take care of himself, after all—she did.

Her fingers curled into a fist, and she raised it to knock. It hovered near the wood for a moment, before lowering back to her side.

He didn’t need her checking on him. He was a big boy, capable of taking care of himself. He could take care of himself. She just had to keep reminding herself that.

Maybe it was time for her to just back off. He wasn’t like Sonic or Tails. He hadn’t been looking for a family. A home. He’d been looking for that magic rock. And now it sat in his closet, protected by a high-tech security system concocted by Tails. Knuckles sometimes sat before it, meditating. She was glad he had found the thing that had been driving him for most of his life, but saw the question in his eyes on the rare occasions he sat still.

Now what?

She wished she could tell him.

She wished she could help him.

But he didn’t want her help. Didn’t need it. Had said as much not fifteen minutes ago.

Maybe it was time she started listening to him.

With a sigh, Callie turned and headed to her bedroom, trying to convince herself she was worrying for nothing.

~X~X~X~

The night wore on. The house grew quiet.

Inside the middle bedroom, a faint green glow seeped from the closet.

~X~X~X~

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, and Callie blinked against it.

God her head hurt. Sitting by the fire last night had dried out her sinuses something awful, and she uttered a grunt in the back of her throat as she pushed herself to sit up. She had to peel her tongue off the roof of her mouth.

What a night. After collapsing in bed, she’d tossed and turned for a while, eventually falling into a restless sleep with really, really weird dreams. Something about an egg and trees and a giant owl?

She shook her head. Weird. She didn’t normally remember her dreams.

With some effort she managed to push herself out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to pee, splash some water on her face, and drag a brush through her hair before folding it into a loose braid. Tossing on a t-shirt and jeans, she pulled her glasses on and headed toward the stairs.

She stopped at Knuckles’ door once again, and this time quietly pushed it open to peek inside. The door thudded against something, and she looked down to see his boots lumped right behind it. She rolled her eyes. Probably got pissed and tossed them again.

Despite his differences, he was still very much a teenager.

Glancing up, she could barely make out a moving shape beneath his blanket. It was unusual for him to still be in bed (well, his artificial burrow, anyway) this late. Normally he was up with the sun to train or patrol or whatever it was he did with himself when he left the house.

Her heart gave a clench when she realized she didn’t really know what he did when he wasn’t here. “Training” was a pretty vague term, and she didn’t know if that meant exercising or running some death course he’d built himself up in the mountains. She could honestly believe either one.

With a sigh, she pulled back, leaving the door open a crack. She’d make some breakfast, and maybe the lure of a hot meal will draw him down so she could apologize for last night.

Her cats’ cries hit her once she reached the bottom of the stairs, and she rolled her eyes as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said with a sigh. She reached into a cabinet to pull out a can of cat food, popping the lid off to shlorp the stuff onto a plate. “You’re starving. Just wasting away. However did you survive on only the dry food you always have available to you since yesterday’s breakfast?”

The cats responded with excited meows as she placed the plate on the floor, before attacking the food as though they weren’t lazy housecats who did nothing but sit around all day before occasionally getting underfoot just as she decided to walk down the hall.

Another eye roll and Callie moved to start her coffeemaker. She’d forgotten to set it last night. With practiced ease of a daily ritual, she cleaned yesterday’s pot, refilled the water and grounds, and let it do its thing.

A yawn escaped her as she leaned back against the counter, massaging her temple, her eyes closed. The soft crunches of dry cat food came from the other side of the counter, as the coffeemaker hummed behind her.

She’d messed things up last night. Once she’d had her coffee, she’d make some bacon and eggs, maybe toss a few sausages in as an apology for overstepping. As he ate—if he ate—she’d tell him she would just stay out of his way, and let him come to her if he needed.

It went against everything she wanted, but this wasn’t about her. It was about Knuckles, and his comfort.

He could take care of himself.

That just needed to be her mantra for a while. Until it stuck.

Bloom and Suki argued a bit over the last bits of moist food, just like they always did every morning. She mostly ignored them. For sisters who’d been adopted at the same time, they really hadn’t bonded, or even seemed to like each other all that much.

A louder growl floated to her, and she called a quick “Knock it off” to them. It faded to softer hissing, as though they were arguing over whose fault it was they were yelled at. Callie sighed, rubbing her temple again, when a thought came to her.

She could still hear the crunch of dry cat food.

That . . . wasn’t right.

Opening her eyes, she leaned over to catch a glimpse of both cats—her only cats—still scarfing down the moist food on one side of the kitchen island.

And still, the crunching continued.

Great.

She hadn’t had her coffee yet, and there was already a problem. Some animal must have gotten into the house and was helping itself to her cats’ food. Mouse? Rat? Squirrel? Not exactly something she wanted to deal with at not quite 8 AM on a Saturday morning.

Moving slowly, Callie grabbed a dish towel, hoping to surprise the whatever-it-was and nab it before it had a chance to run or bite her. Would it work? Probably not. But she had to do something.

She moved slowly, coming around the counter making as little noise as possible. Inch by inch she rounded the island, before she could see the cat food bowl, and the creature having a free lunch. Or breakfast, as it were.

And she froze.

Sitting in front of the bowl, grabbing handfuls of dry cat food and shoving them into its mouth, crunching loudly, was a . . . little red echidna.

“What the . . .”

She spoke without realizing, and the little thing froze, whipping his head around to look at her, eyes wide. Violet eyes. Ones that looked so, so much like those of the echidna upstairs. Her eyes flicked down and took note of the white patch of fur in the shape of a crescent moon on his little chest.

Oh god.

It couldn’t be.

Was that . . . ?

They stood there, staring at each other, frozen in shock for a long moment.

Then the little echidna—what were they called? She couldn’t remember at the moment—reached forward, his eyes never leaving hers, and grabbed another handful of cat food to bring to his mouth.

That got her moving.

“NO!”

Her voice was louder and sharper than she intended, and when she reached for him, he gave a little squeak, turning to scramble away from her. He ran on all fours, a kind of loping half-crawl, half-gallop kind of gait, and he was fast. Callie hurried behind him, her socked feet threatening to slip on her laminated floors.

“No no no,” she muttered as he ran beneath the kitchen table. She slid to a stop and yanked a chair away, falling to her knees to try and grab him, just as he scooted through the other side and made a beeline for the living room. Getting to her feet once more, she followed, trying to keep him in sight. He was about as large as one of her cats—bigger than a kitten, but not a full on adult—which meant he could fit in places she couldn’t reach.

Like behind the computer desk where her laptop sat. He squeezed between it and the wall, and Callie hurled the rolling chair out of the way as she threw herself beneath the desk. The little echidna—what the hell were they called again??—skittered along the back, getting tangled in the cord for the lamp and pulling it down with a crash as he bolted from behind the desk and headed for the side table by the couch.

“Stop!”

He gave another little squeak at her order, but never slowed. Scrambling behind the side table, he latched onto the curtain, climbing deceptively fast for a little guy his size. Realizing she was still holding the hand towel, Callie threw it toward him, not necessarily thinking through what that was supposed to accomplish. But she never expected his reaction.

He launched himself off the curtain and flew across the room.

No, not flew, exactly. More like glide. Like a flying squirrel.

But still.

“Are you kidding me??”

While gliding seemed to come naturally to him, landing did not, and he bounced off the TV, tumbling down to the floor with a few grunts. She hurried over to him, and caught his leg just as he was trying to scurry beneath the TV stand.

“Gotcha!”

He did not like being caught, wiggling and twisting his body like a live wire, uttering little grunts and growls as he did so. Callie kept having to rearrange her grip on him, alternating between grabbing a limb before switching to a different one when he jack-knifed his body to try and hurl himself out of her hands.

It was like trying to hold doll filled with Jell-O, if that doll hated you and was trying to bite you and poke you with its quills.

In desperation, she tried something that usually worked when her own son was cranky and fighting all those years ago.

She tickled him.

At first she wasn’t even sure if he was ticklish. Did creatures with fur have tickle triggers, or did their fur absorb that touch before it could work? It wasn’t exactly a question she’d ever thought to ask Maddie, and certainly not something Knuckles would ever let her know about. Weaknesses and all that.

Her fingers danced over his sides, seeking out the spots that most humans found ticklish, and he continued to fight her. A little more juggling, and she ended up holding him by an ankle, the rest of him dangling. She brought her other hand up and went for the bottom of his foot.

And he giggled.

Her fingers wiggled, barely touching the pads on his foot, and now he wiggled and twisted for a different reason, laughing and giggling at the touch. A smile curled her lips and she gave a little amused hum of her own.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?”

When his laughter went a little wheezy, she stopped her tickle attack and carefully adjusted him so she held him beneath his arms. He giggled a little more before looking up at her, his eyes big and wide. She felt his little chest heaving from the laughter, and gave him a good look over.

Same eyes. Same moon mark on his chest. She moved him so she could see the arm that was bandaged last night. There was still a tiny wound there.

“Holy . . . ohmygod . . . you’re him. Knuckles?” He didn’t respond to his name. Could he understand her at all? “You’re a . . .”

“Knock knock, MacPhersons!” a voice called as the kitchen door opened. Wade came in, carrying a bag from Dough Ray Me Bakery. “I brought breakie! Or snackie!”

“Baby,” she said, looking at the deputy over her shoulder.

“Yes, dear?” He snickered, amused by his own joke. “Ah, kidding, what are you—”

“BABY,” she said, louder and more urgent. She turned and held the little echidna out.

Wade stopped, his eyes going wide. “Did . . . did Knux have a baby?”

“Knux IS the baby,” she said, moving closer. The boy turned his head, looking between the two adults. “I woke up and he was like this.”

Silence settled for a moment, before Wade rubbed the back of his neck. “So . . . is this something space echidna do? Like a phoenix kinda thing?”

Callie opened her mouth to answer, before closing it again. She looked between echidna and man, before giving Wade a look. “I think my smoke detectors would have gone off if he’d burst into flames to revert to a . . . joey. No, that’s kangaroos. Damnit. What are baby echidna called?”

Wade shrugged. “Think the other boys are like this?”

Her eyes went wide. YES! Verifying Sonic and Tails were babies too wouldn’t exactly make this okay, but would go a long way into making her feel less . . . weird about it. Shared experiences and all that.

“I’ll check.” She thrust Knuckles toward Wade, who looked distinctly unsure about taking him. “C’mon, Wade. I have to make a phone call.”

“I dunno, I’m not really great with—“

That’s as far as he got before she practically dropped the little echidna into his hands. She rushed to the counter, grabbed her phone, and punched Maddie’s contact. It ran twice before she picked up.

“Hey, Cal!”

“Hey, Mads, uh, sorry to call so early, I just have a quick question.”

“Shoot.”

Callie glanced over at Wade, who had pulled Knuckles to cradle against his chest. Knux gazed up at the man, playing with the buttons on the hideous Hawaiian shirt he liked to wear on days off.

“Your kids wouldn’t happen to be, I dunno . . . babies?”

A slight pause.

“It depends on the situation, really.”

“RUDE!” A certain hedgehog’s voice called out in the background.

Oh. Oh no.

“That seemed an oddly specific question for this early in the morning,” Maddie continued, seemingly ignoring her hog son. “Why do you ask?”

A soft, not quite sane laugh escaped Callie, and she switched from an audio call to video. “Because, funny story . . . Today I woke up to . . .” She turned the phone to show Wade holding little Knux. “This.”

Silence. Then, “OH MY GOD! HE’S SO CUTE!”

Wade blushed. “Aw, thanks, Maddie!”

Callie rolled her eyes, and pulled the phone back around to herself. “Maddie, he’s a baby. Why is he a baby?”

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know any more than you do about his species.”

“Don’t tell me you think he’s like some space phoenix thing, too.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” Callie sighed, reaching beneath her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

“Hang on, lemme ask Tails.” Maddie’s voice went a little muffled as she blocked the mic, turning to call for her younger son. There was some back and forth between the two, when Tails came on screen.

“Hi, Callie!”

“Hey, Floof,” she said, dropping her hand and giving him a weak smile. “Your mom fill you in?”

“Yeah, and I’m not completely clear on echidna physiology but am pretty sure they don’t spontaneously revert to become babies overnight.”

“Wait a minute, Knux is a baby???” Sonic’s voice started faint but got louder as he pushed forward, sticking his nose in the camera. “LEMME SEE!!”

Callie sighed, and turned to show the hog. A gasp, followed by laughter, and she pulled the phone back around with a cocked eyebrow.

“Hey, see if you can remove the stick from his butt now, so he’ll be more fun when he grows up!”

“Sonic!”

A warning call from Maddie, who wrestled control of her phone from her older son.

“So,” Callie said, trying to redirect the conversation. “Any ideas how this happened, or how to change him back?”

“Tails?” Maddie asked, turning the phone slightly to get the fox in frame. He rubbed his chin slightly, before looking back up.

“The Master Emerald is said to be able to change reality, based solely on thought alone,” he said, before shrugging. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

Callie could have slapped her forehead. Duh. She knew the Master Emerald could do that, that’s what the whole trouble with Robotnik was when Knux first came. That should have been her first thought, honestly.

She blamed the lack of caffeine.

“That’s a good call, Tails,” she said, glancing over at Wade. He’d pulled Knuckles up and was currently dancing with him, making silly faces. The boy laughed, kicking his little feet, and Callie’s heart just about melted. She looked back to Tails. “I’ll see if I can, I dunno, convince the Emerald to change him back.”

The fox looked hesitant, but nodded. “Probably your best bet. Just . . . be careful.”

“I will. Thanks, guys. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

The Wachowski’s said their goodbyes, and she hung up, putting her phone back on the counter.

“You sure you wanna use that?” Wade asked, pulling Knux back to hold against him. He still swayed back and forth, seemingly without realizing he was doing it. “Could make things weirder.”

“Not sure we have much of a choice, Wade.”

She paused, looking up the stairs toward Knuckles’ room. She tried not to think about having a magic rock capable of altering reality in her house. One that allowed Robotnik to create a giant robot out of cars and trains and who knew what else. One that apparently worked through thought alone.

Because if she thought too hard on it, it really, really, really freaked her out.

“We can call Sonic and Tails to come over,” Wade said, his voice softer. “They know a little more about it and maybe could help.”

Part of her wanted to say yes, because this was way too much to deal with. At all, much less before her morning coffee. She turned and looked back at Knuckles, who was seemingly fine hanging over Wade’s arm.

She sighed.

“No,” she said, giving her braid a little tug. “We don’t know for sure that’s what changed him. What if the other boys come over and BOOM, they get babified? Then we’ll still be on our own and Maddie will be pissed. No thanks.” She sighed again, steeling herself. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She made her way upstairs, into Knuckles’ room, and opened his closet door. The Master Emerald sat in its little glass box, its ever present soft glow illuminating the otherwise dark room. With a few calming breaths, she reached forward and pressed her thumb on the little square plate at the base. There was a soft beep, and a little recording of Tails’ voice filled the air.

“Identification code, please.”

Callie leaned forward to speak toward the mic. “Callie MacPherson, 7322-07.”

A second later there was another beep, and Tails’ voice again.

“Access granted! Hi, Callie!”

There was a click and a hiss as the top of the clear box opened, swinging back to allow access. The material the container was constructed with looked like glass, but Tails had called it some sort of polymer that was stronger than steel—a recipe he’d concocted back on his home planet when he was five, and at that point she’d stopped listening because it sounded like a lot of tech talk, and frankly she got the feeling that some of Tails’ inventions were borderline illegal no matter what planet he was on.

She reached into the box now, and carefully took hold of the Master Emerald, lifting it out slowly. She’d only touched it once before, as Tails was installing the security system.

She didn’t like touching it.

It was warm.

Not warm as in ‘a rock that had been sitting in the sun’ warm. But warm as in ‘something that was somehow generating its own heat’ warm.

It was almost a living warmth.

And beyond that, it seemed to . . . thrum in her hands.

She tried to tell herself she was simply feeling her own heartbeat through it, that somehow the gem was amplifying it back to her.

But considering how her heart was pounding in her own ears right now, the gem’s . . . well, pulse didn’t match the rhythm.

She tried not to think about it.

She tried not to think about anything, considering the powers the gem held.

Having her house turn into gingerbread because of the ones she used to make with her mother at Christmas popped into her head was the last thing she needed right now.

(damnit stop thinking about that)

Hurrying downstairs, she found Wade entertaining Knuckles by tossing him in the air before catching him. The little echidna laughed, his soft voice squeaking with his happy giggles.

Callie was only a little jealous that Wade could coax such happy sounds from the boy. She didn’t think she’d ever heard teen Knux sound that free. That happy. Sure, he’d been through hell in his quest to find the gem now in her hands, but she thought she had given him a nice safe place to stay. A home.

Maybe she’d just been fooling herself.

Focus.

“Keep doing that and he’s gonna barf on you,” she said, in what she hoped sounded like her usual snark.

Wade caught him one last time, before giving the boy a little nose nuzzle. “Ah, he’s okay. He’s a cute little guy!”

“Yeah, well, why don’t we see if we can change him back—PUGGLE!” The word came out loud and suddenly, and Wade and Knuckles both jerked. She gave them an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I’d been trying to think of that word all morning. Anyway . . .” She held up the Master Emerald. “Shall we give it a try?”

Wade nodded, turning Knuckles around so they both faced Callie. She stepped forward, holding the gem up in front of the little puggle.

Nothing happened.

She gave the Emerald a little shake. “C’mon. Change him back. Uh, please.”

Nothing.

“Think maybe it’s like a genie kinda thing?” Wade offered, and Knuckles turned his head to look at him. “Like, you gotta wish for it or something?”

“Tails said it works by thought,” Callie responded, watching as the puggle turned back and began chewing on the nearest edge of the Emerald. “But I’m not exactly sure how to do that. And kinda worried about a monkey’s paw kinda situation.”

“Oh, like you wish for something and it grants it in the most horrible, twisted way possible. Like instead of changing him back to his normal self he’s a . . . I dunno, an eclair or something.”

Callie gave him a look. “Why would he be an eclair?”

Wade shrugged. “It kinda sounds like echidna. And maybe it sounds so much like echidna that you think of eclair instead and now he’s a delicious pastry and—”

“I’m not going to think of an eclair instead of echidna,” she snapped, before pulling her lips in tight. “Well I wasn’t before you said that, now that’s all I can think of, thank you very much.”

Closing her eyes, Callie drew in a deep breath, before letting it out slowly.

Okay.

She opened her eyes, and met Wade’s gaze. “I’m gonna try picturing him like he was yesterday, and see if that works. Ready?” Wade nodded, holding Knuckles out. “Okay. Here goes.”

Callie closed her eyes again, squeezing them shut tightly as she pictured Knuckles, teenage Knuckles, and definitely not an eclair, standing before her and giving her that typical scowl, his arms crossed. She kept that image in her mind, her grip tightening on the Master Emerald.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to happen. A feeling of some sort of energy or something flowing through her as the Emerald did what she wanted. A sudden shift of the air around her. Something.

That didn’t happen.

What did happen was little Knuckles sneezing, spraying the Master Emerald—and her—with little puggle snot. She jerked, opening her eyes.

“Well, that’s just grand, that is,” she said in her best Wallace impersonation. She turned and walked to the hand towel she’d thrown at Knuckles while he was hanging off her curtain, and picked it up to wipe the spray off the most dangerous and powerful gem in the entire galaxy. Then she turned the towel to herself, wiping her face and heaving a sigh.

“At least he’s not an eclair,” Wade offered, tucking Knux into his elbow. “What now?”

Callie cocked an eyebrow at him, tucking the Emerald against her hip. Her eyes flicked behind him, and found her coffee pot nice and full. “Coffee,” she said, heading toward it.

~~~~~

And that's where I petered out because it's just not working. UGH

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Vanitas finding out his s/o was a former Paladin but got kicked out because she showed mercy to a vampire mother and her children? S/o's loyalty to the Chasseur was already wavering but being told to kill a mother and her children made her completely lose faith in them.

“Hold still.”

Despite the order, Vanitas flinches on instinct. Although he has a very high pain tolerance thanks to his past, his psychological pain threshold is very low. Aka: he hypes it up in his head too much. “It’s hurts!”

“I haven’t done anything yet!” [Y/N] snapped back at him.

They eventually sigh and let his arm go. “Just…stay here then. I’ll go look for some bandages and supplies. You work on getting over this so we can actually fix your arm.” They get up to leave and disappear into the shadows for their search. Leaving Vanitas alone.

He sat there for a while. Huffing and puffing about having to sit there like a child while he waited for them. Then, he suddenly heard the sound of his name, “Vanitas-san!”

The black-haired man tensed and grew pale as he turned, hoping he was just delusional from blood loss. But no. It was certainly Roland.

“What are you doing here?? Oh my goodness, you’re hurt!”

“Yeah. It’s nothing.” Vanitas coiled into himself on instinct. Though Roland was very nice, and an optimistic idiot, he still belonged to the organization that tortured him for years. “My uh…friend is getting me some bandages.”

“Awwww! That’s very nice of them!” Roland cheered. “It’s good to have a partner when you are fighting evil. This set back is just a minor hurdle, but proves to the fortitude of your cause!” Vanitas really wished he had some sunglasses to block out the blinding rays of Roland’s spirit.

“Ok. I have the bandages. Now if you can just hold still we can get…..” [Y/N] trailed off as they returned. Their eyes and Roland locking and an unfamiliar expression on the idiot’s face he hadn’t seen before. Surprise.

“[Y/N]….chan….”

“What are you doing here Roland?”

“Oh I was…on a mission…” He explained. “Hunting evil vampires.”

[Y/N] arched a brow. Probably at the comment of ‘evil vampires’. Vanitas was surprised too as he thought that the Chasseurthought all vampires were evil. “What are you…?”

“I’m here with….” Vanitas offered a little wave with his good hand to contribute to this awkward conversation. “Are you here alone? Or are you with….”

As if on cue, there is the distant call of Roland’s name. “It’s Olivier.” He told them. “Do you want to-“No. I can’t.” [Y/N] cut in quickly.

Roland nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll distract him and get him away from here while you get Mr. Vanitas out of here.”

“Roland. You can’t-“I won’t tell anyone.” His turn to interject.

[Y/N] put the bandages away and helped Vantias, who was still very confused, to his feet. The Chasseuralready making his way back to his comrade. “Roland!” He paused and turned back to look at [Y/N]. “If you need anything…”

The blonde just smiled. “Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!” Then he was gone.

Alone, Vanitas turned to [Y/N], “what was that about?” He was confused, and honestly a little jealous. There was clearly some history there. A history he knew nothing about between his partner and man who was once their enemy turned friend. “How do you know Roland? What was he talking about not telling?”

[Y/N] looked scared and dejected. Another expression he hadn’t seen before today. They swallow a lump in their throat before they tell him. “Roland and I used to be friends. When I was their Sapphire….”

Vanitas was shocked to the point that his whole heart felt like it stopped. They used to be Chasseur?? Sworn to the very people how tortured and nearly killed him!! “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It was irrelevant. I’m not that person anymore.”

“Irrelevant?! Irrelevant?! You used to belong to the church and the people who….” He was too traumatized to even say out loud that they did to him. For the sake of ‘science’ and the holy order. “How could you not tell me?! How could you work for those people?!”

“I know exactly what kind of people they are Vanitas! It’s why I left!”

Vanitas stopped being angry for a moment and returned to shock again. To his knowledge, no one left the Chasseur. One, their life expectancy was short. If they weren’t killed by vampires, the treatments and drugs they were given drastically shortened their life (all for the cause). Two, it was forbidden for Chasseur to ever leave service. They were bound by their oath until death. They couldn’t just…leave.

“You’re lying.” He accused. So, [Y/N] sighed and told him the very sad story of why they left.

They had believed in the cause, at first. You don’t join the Church without believing. They were very good at their job and training, and eventually promoted to Sapphire. Second only to their Diamond. One day they were sent on a mission to irradicate a vampire village somewhere in the French foothills, but they were amazed to discover how civilized they were. No violence. No secret horrors. The people had been kind to them and in the end they couldn’t do it. Sending word that these people needed to be left alone in reciprocating peace that they showed. But the church didn’t take kindly to that.

They dispatched more Chasseur and with their force wiped the village from existence. [Y/N] was taken into custody for heresy. Clearly ‘manipulated by the vampires and their illusionary tactics’ and sent for ‘reeducation’. Sometime during the process, [Y/N] couldn’t remember how long they had been there for while they were tormented under the guise of salvation, they escaped.

“I’m not sure if they sent word that I was dead, or an excommunicated traitor, but they didn’t come after me. I still had to hide, but started a new life for myself away from the church. After that, I met you. That time and now are completely different places for me. You must understand that.”

Vanitas listened to their story and tried to process it. “I didn’t lie to you. Or…I didn’t mean to lie to you, if we consider omission a lie. If you don’t think you can trust me, or if this is too much for us, then let me know and I’ll fix your arm and go.”

Vanitas reached out with his good arm. Snatching theirs in his grasp. As if on instinct at the suggestion of them leaving him. “I don’t want you to go.” [Y/N] breathed a sigh of relief. “But…I will need sometime with this.”

[Y/N] nodded. They patched up his arm in silence and they left together in silence as well. They would be back to normal eventually. Or whatever version of normal their lives were. For now, this was just a lot to process. But if Vanitas could be unlikely friends with a Jasper, then perhaps he could make a relationship work with a Sapphire.

[khazadaimenu]

any outstanding thoughts on the day to day lives of Durin's line in the blue mountains? Specifically the childhood's of Kili and Fili?

Hey! Sorry I’m so slow with this. And thank you, it’s a really cool ask to receive!

I don't think I have any original thoughts, that haven't already been said somewhere. But it's still a joy to share, hope you like it!

I love thinking about what life was like in the Blue Mountains. I think certainly young princes grew up with less pressure than Thorin has. And less insulated from other races, from the realities of poverty and the like. Which means they grew up more or less unburdened by the grievances of the past and with a more open mind.

Their childhood consisted of: Training sessions with Dwalin Lessons with Balin Play time with Gimli, Ori and many other dwarf children Stories about the great deeds of the past, around the hearth or at bedtime Travelling dwarves bringing with them news of the wider world, some interesting curios, igniting a desire within them to see the world Obviously, Thorin's stories had a decisive effect in determining the young dwarves' futures. There was no other way they saw it, other than regaining Erebor. If not even for themselves, but for the sake of the older generation, Thorin, Dis, and others. Sort of on obligation they didn't even see as obligation, so ingrained it was in them growing up.

I also headcanon that Thorin decided at some point that Fili and Kili would be his heirs. Because he wanted to have a hand in raising his heirs, instead of the throne passing to someone who's never even known the old Erebor. I don't think Fili and Kili's father necessarily saw that as a good thing. He wanted to raise his sons with the right values, not fixated on gold or power, but how to live a simple life and be happy. Part of the reason Dis loved him so much, I think. And even though he passed away early, in an Orc skirmish, he managed to share his kindness and wisdom with his sons. Kili doesn't remember much of his father, being too young. But Fili feels a great deal of pressure to be a man his father would approve of. Which keeps his scales of values in balance. Hence him going against Thorin's wishes later on in the quest. And Kili grew up trying to be like Fili, so he feels the same way about many things.

They probably, unusually for dwarves, spent a lot of their days on the surface, learning to survive and hunt. But also playing. There might have been some bullying from the local Blue Mountain kids, because they were formally princes, but didn’t have anything to their name. And nobody believed they could ever retake the mountain. But as they grew and proved their worth and their family restored some of the wealth and lived more or less comfortably, that faded.

As they grew older, their responsibilities grew as well. There was helping Dis around the house/halls (depending on which version you prefer). Learning blacksmithing from Thorin and other dwarves. Travelling to the neighbouring villages of Men to see how trade is done and deals are made. Learning contracts from Balin.

When it comes to training, I think they were very competitive if pitted against one another in a task (quickest to get to the end of an obstacles course, anyone?), but also learned to work together and have each other’s backs, always. Which helped them immensely once they took up jobs as caravan guards.

Once they reached adolescence/young adulthood, Fili had this one summer where he changed a lot and suddenly became incredibly attractive to fellow dwarrowdams, and also would sometimes catch curious glances from women of Menfolk and hobbit lasses. Up to a certain age, he doesn't have a clue what that is all about and is just puzzled. Until one day it hits him, but that doesn't change how he treats people, although he does take care of his appearance and makes sure to look presentable always.

And Kíli had a summer of growth spurt where he shot up higher than Fili. But Fili still reminded him occasionally who the big brother is, in a friendly manner, nothing much, just ruffling his hair and play fighting. Kili also shows himself as a very romantic person, dreaming of adventure and a big love story one day. His head is full of ideas for the future and he doesn't have much passion for things like keeping surfaces tidy or brushing one's hair. But everyone's charmed by him and loves him nonetheless, for he wears his heart on his sleef.

That's it. Thanks again for sending this, it was like plunging into their world. I'm sorry it couldn't be sooner, the moment had to be right.

[yanderes-galore]

Here's my second request, it is fox M.X.E.S from FNAF: Ruin.

So, since they are a virtual security system, this could work if reader was a mechanic or technician and finds one V.A.N.N.I mask for the first time. In the beginning M.X.E.S stalks reader, but since they aren't trying to turn off the parental nodes, the virtual entity starts being less hostile, even letting reader roam through the virtual world(?). But, as more the rabbit watches the worker, more they want to keep them there, after all, there's no one else in this place.

If i remember correctly, in some point of the DLC, M.X.E.S uses some devices to lock Cassie inside the network and kill her, so he could use those same devices on reader, unabling them from removing the mask.

-🦊

Oh! You were the one that did the Fluffy AU! Mangle? Got it, cool! Here you go :)

M.X.E.S/The Entity is referred by both "They/Them" and "It" in this.

Yandere! M.X.E.S/The Entity Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Obsession, Sentient AI, Manipulation, Imprisonment implied, Forced companionship.

M.X.E.S is another strange case.

They are purely AI with no real "body".

They're meant to keep The Mimic in check due to being a security system.

For the sake of this concept I'll say they have some sentience.

You can only ever see them with a V.A.N.N.I mask so theoretically they'd be easy to avoid.

In theory....

If you are a mechanic/technician then obtaining a mask is easy.

You're given one as a Class V technician, the process of integrating is a bit painful but you get through it.

M.X.E.S would be more of an observing yan for the most part.

You were sent there for some reason, due to your job it's most likely related to obtaining some tech for recovery.

Who knows, maybe Gregory or Vanessa sent you.

Due to M.X.E.S not seeing many people in this place and noticing a presence through the mask, they follow you from a distance at first.

Perhaps even sent to recover the ruined animatronics (Chica, Monty, Roxy, maybe Freddy).

M.X.E.S knows its goal, it's meant to prevent The Mimic from escaping.

But unlike Cassie... you leave the nodes be.

As a result the rabbit AI no longer sees you as a threat.

You are registered as a technician and are meant to be here....

So, the rabbit tries not to bother you.

Yet that doesn't mean they fully leave you alone.

You give the AI something/someone to focus on when it isn't hunting intruders.

As a result you may begin to view the black rabbit as some sort of companion.

You may even recognize it as a security system so you know it means no harm.

The rabbit AI may look scary, yet it's on your side...

Right?

In fact the AI may try to offer you comfort.

After all, you're the only living human here right now.

M.X.E.S would not lure any enemies towards you to be hostile.

In fact they just want to help you with your job.

Things only go bad when they realize what happens when the job is over.

Once you have what you want, you'll leave.

You'll leave The Entity all alone.

This would be when the rabbit turns on you.

The devices you were speaking about are called "AR Jammers" if I remember correctly.

They can be used to lock you out of the mask... or lock you in.

I can see M.X.E.S deciding to cut you off when your job is nearly done.

They set up an AR Jammer or two around the ruined Pizzaplex to prevent you from removing the mask.

The rabbit mask feels like it's fused to your face... no matter how hard you try to pull at it.

You immediately turn to the culprit, the floating glitchy security program staring at you with eager eyes.

You realize what it's done and begin to plead.

The Entity only shakes their head.

At this point they feel you belong here... they feel they should keep you here just like The Mimic...

Then they can have you all to themselves.

[lemon-russ]

Saw an anon send an ask to @moodymisty and I was overcome with a need to make this.

(Part 1 of) Rating how good of a father each primarch would be:

Lion- 6/10

You'd think it'd be lower but like a Lion he's actually good with playing with them even though he feigns disinterest. He's the kind of dad to bring them out in the woods without saying a word, hand them a bolter and point at an animal to teach them to shoot and hunt. He acts like they are annoying him but always has reasons he wants to go teach them something. When they're babies he does the thing where he pretends they've gravely wounded him when they run at him, flopping over on the floor and going "oh ow ouch you got me."

Not emotionally available, though. And very little patience for their bullshit when they are older. But always protective from afar and always will fight anyone who disrespects them. His kids love him but are constantly like "Sorry about my Dad I don't know why he's like this" Kind of embarrassed by him, but they know he loves them in his own way.

Fulgrim- 4/10

They're never going to live up to his expectations. He tries to be supportive and encouraging, but he can't shake the want for them to be better. They are a chronic overachiever, and he tells them yes, that's wonderful, but maybe if you tried just a little harder, you'd have done even better? He isn't trying to be cruel, but he can't help himself. He loves his kid, but they live with the pressure of never being good enough. He tries to help by enrolling them in way too many extracurriculars.

His kids love him but feel like they are failing him and want to be better. They want to make him proud. He never belittles them or says anything against them, but they want him to be really actually proud of them.

Perturabo- 1/10

Have you ever seen how narcissist parents are? His kids aren't good enough. Unlike Fulgrim, he doesn't pretend they are for their sake. He compares them constantly to their cousins, Dorn's kids. Why aren't they better than their cousins? They are, of course, he will tell anyone. Of course, his kids are the best. But in private, he resents them for being another chip against his reputation. They are supposed to be like him, and he is perfect. By being imperfect, they are insulting him. Why is everything he makes imperfect? Also, bad temper, obviously.

His kids hate him or are terrified of him, and constantly under pressure to do better. Excel in everything but never think they are good at anything.

Khan- 2/10

Absentee father of hundreds. Doesn't hate his kids, just prefers his freedom. Occasionally will find one, bring them on bike ride to give them a talk about life, then they don't see him again. Not mean, just not there.

His kids opinion of him ranges from "who?" To "I met him once, he was fine I guess." Their mothers are taken care of at least.

Leman Russ- 8/10 (yes I'm biased idc)

Loves being a Dad, loves his kids, loves his wife. Loves making kids. The whole Legion takes care of the kids and helps raise them. Only things that go wrong is Leman isn't super emotionally sensitive, and can be a little harsh on his kids when they're older. But otherwise loves hanging out with them, often steals them away to bring them with him while he works. Baby strapped to his chest and toddler in his sholders while he's making war plans. Showing his older kids what he's doing while he's planning out attacks. Taking the whole kaboodle out for a day to play in the forests with his fenrisian wolves.

Genuinely believes they are the best and can do no wrong, will fight anyone who suggests they aren't great. Privately will correct them if they really mess up, but has a blind spot for them, so they can be a little spoiled. Plus there's like 12 of them if he has his way so some don't get all the attention they need.

His kids adore him and are happy as clams, if not a little spoiled and have a bit of attitude.

(Will do part 2 later)

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

After ten years of not writing fanfiction, Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a chokehold. Inspired by one of the songs Halsins VA Dave Johnson put into his Halsin playlist, i made this. If you want the full experience listen to "I want to be your only pet" by Bombay Bicycle Club.

The whole playlist ist gold to be honest, so if you haven't do check that out.

The Tav is based on my Character Òrfhlaith (say it like Orla) who started as a Sorcerer/Bard and respecc. into Sorcerer/Paladin. For the sake of the story, the Tav is not named and only described with she/her pronouns and the title songbird.

English is not my first language, so if you find any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes, please do point it out.

I Want to be your only pet (I want to let go and forget)

Paring: Halsin x female!Tav (Halsin POV)

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Yearning.

If you prefer Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55315462

Warnings: Mentions of past Trauma, sight violence, explicit description of blood, hinted panic attack, explicit sexual thoughts. Minord DNI!

Description:

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Little snippets of Halsin learning to let down his guard around Tav and his every growing yearning through Act I- III.

After the group freed him from the Goblin Camp, which was honestly a miracle in itself, they went on to save the Grove. Halin still could not believe it. After all the moments worrying, hoping, praying he would find a way to ward off all harm, it was done. The Grove was preserved and on the way to begin anew, whilst the Tieflings were on their way to Baldurs Gate. Not that he would call it safe in any way. Even if he wished them a happier ending, he feared for their lives on the road to the city. Halsin prayed that Sylvanus would watch over the group of refugees. Especially whenever he thought about them having to pass through the shadow cursed lands on their own.

When they finished saying their goodbyes, Halsin asked permission to stay at camp. In his heart he knew that they would need his help to pass through the shadow curse. After all, he had seen it put into place, living with its weight for over a hundred years. If his knowledge could help them towards their goal, he would be glad for it.

Their way would be long and traveling with them would mean leaving the grove behind but for all that it was worth he was relieved to give up the title of Archdruid; it had clung to his shoulders long enough. If he was being honest, he never was really good at it. Sure enough, he understood enough of politics and leadership to keep everything running, but it teared at him. Every nag and every whisper a shred of himself fell away. People like Nettie made it bearable, but he knew that due to his position there was a distance between them that could not be bridged. So he quietly yearned for nature's sweet caress again, when he would run out in the early morning hours his paws on the soft, wet ground, looking for berries and honey. Hunting at night. Unburdened from the limitations, being Archdruid gave him. No, he was not sad at all, to let all that go. and Francesca would lead the Druids to a new beginning. Remind them of the true intentions they should strive for.

The first days in camp were truly magical, though so very different than the hundred years before: Being able to enjoy the sunbeams on his face, the crisp air of morning, knowing that no one would ask him to lead the way. No one to depend on his judgment and whisper about his decisions in the hidden corners, when they thought he would not hear them. The people in camp gave him space to go after his day, not wanting his leadership nor needing it. They shared their meals with him and though some eyed him suspiciously, no one bothered him. Mostly he was left to ponder over the shadow curse and the illithid infection.

Though she came to him every now and then. Halsin could tell that she was the leader of their, rather chaotic, crew. When she spoke, they listened. Some rather … reluctantly at the beginning. But nevertheless, they accepted her plans and did what they could to support each other on the road. And she was patient with them in return. At least more patient than most of the people he knew. Even when she had to end the quarrels between them seemingly every other night, she only used harsh words in situations deserving of them.

That did not mean that she was above frustrations: One time, after a particularly bad fight between Gale and Astarion (the rogue accused the brown haired man of having stolen a copy of one of his books to eat it, telling him to use his own damn library for dinner) where they nearly set the campground on fire, she had set them straight sternly, her brow furrowing, using a surprising colorful vocabulary.

Halsin admired her vigor to go on, no matter how bad her group returned at night. Often she would go to every person in camp chatting for a few moments, her face still swollen and bloody. Most of the time, she would swiftly discard her armor and put on some (relatively) clean clothes, yet sometimes she only undid the heaviest part of her armor, chucking it away carelessly, as she went on to greet the first person. She asked them about their day, offering them counsel if needed. Every time she also appeared at his side at the end of her round. Her eyes shining with a warmth that he could only describe with a warm summer's evening.

He came to like the routine. The few first nights she would ask about his comfort and share a few kind words with him. Later, when they neared the shadow cursed lands, she requested advice trying to find the best route. While he explained she listened intently, nodding while he was mapping the ways and when he finished, she thanked him for his words before she left. It was nice. Not having to answer for every decision that was made, but his words being heard and acknowledged. It made him feel warm.

After that she returned to her usual routine. Asking him about his well being with a soothing voice, smiling at him like the fresh morning sun. One particular evening, after she left, Halsin could not help but keep thinking about the way she leaned her head when she was listening. Or how her eyes focused when she was mulling over ideas.

He found her attractive, he did not need to deny it. But the way his attention seemed to stick to her, like a fly on a honeypot, made him uneasy. There was a time and place for such thoughts and he did not believe the current situation to be one of those. So he stuffed the thoughts of her laugh and her eyes far away and carried on.

Halsin heard her sing, one time at camp. Wyll was sharing a story about the fine dances back in Baldurs Gate and bards that could induce you with whatever feeling they pleased, with just a few strokes of their instruments. The Warlock recalled the way one particularly skilled bard sang a ballad full of yearning and heartache, that he never heard again. Halsin heard her surprised exclamation, telling the horned man excitedly that she knew that song by heart. Wyll had politely asked her to sing it for them, only if she did not mind. And she did not mind at all.

Her voice sounded a bit coarse at the beginning (there were not many occasions to sing anymore) but soon her voice unfolded like a flower petal in bloom. Halsin could have sworn to Sylvanus, her voice sounded like a songbird, both sweet and rich. Soon she was weaving a net with each syllable, entangling the listeners with her honey voice. Turning his head he could see entranced eyes, some humming along softly and tapping their feet. A gentle breeze passed through them as the song ended. Gentle quiet settled over camp. For a moment everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts before Karlach asked for another song, excitement barely contained. With a glint in her eyes, the songbird began to sing a folkish song. One that was easier to follow and more well known, stomping along to the beat. And soon enough a few of them joined in. All in all it went on to be a surprisingly jolly evening. From his spot on a thick branch, Halsin watched them sing and dance around, grabbing onto the unwilling campmates pulling them along, much to their pretended dismay.

She had suddenly stood before him then. Hand outstretched, eyes shining like the sun itself had made its home there. With his heart pounding in his chest, Halsin stared up to her.

“Will you be joining us?” She asked in a melodic tone. He wished for nothing more than to keep her voice around for the rest of the night.

It would have only taken him a word. One word and he could have joined their merry dancing, their laughter. But he did not dare to. Not with the memory of the Shadow Curse hanging on his shoulders, whispering every single failure he could count into his ear. Not with Thaniel lost, not with the unspoken promise of saving him or die trying. With a heart so heavy it could drag him right into the ground, Halsin shook his head. “Another time. But thank you for your invitation. It is greatly appreciated.” Her smile faltered. He could have sworn to see a flicker of concern in her eyes. With a pang of regret the Druid tried to say something soothing- He did not mean to steal the sun from her eyes.

As he was trying to find his words, she smiled again. “All is well, my friend. You take your rest and tomorrow we will see to the Shadow Curse.”

Her eyes laid intently on him, unfaltering. He could swear he saw a different kind of fire there. “We will see it broken and Thaniel freed once again. I swear." The way she said it filled Halsin with hope. She seemed so sure of it.

Before he could say anything in response, someone from the group (he could swear it was Shadowheart, rare laughter spilling from her lips) was pulling her away from him again. He watched her pick up her laughter full of sunshine again, holding the hand of the young cleric. Under the sea of stars she radiated light and warmth, turning in a circle, stumbling over her feet and catching herself, before holding onto someone elses hand. Halsin wondered how it would feel to catch her, to make her laugh and bring the light into her eyes. Holding her close to his chest as he traced the rivers of starlight on her skin. To bite her tender skin, taste her, devour her. Halsin inhaled sharply, willing the golden sparks on his skin away. He reminded himself that such were no thoughts to have. Now was not the time to relax and to come undone. Not before he had freed Thaniel and lifted the Shadow curse. This was his duty before everything else. She would help him. That was a small relief in the suffocating fear that had nested itself in his heart so very long ago.

With a sigh he looked at the wood he was chipping away at. He had to be alone for a moment. Grabbing his utensils, he stood up, swiftly waving goodnight towards the group as his feet carried him back to his bedroll. Staring up towards the stars, he wondered if he should carve a dancing bird.

After they saved Thaniel and killed Ketheric Thorm the land bloomed once more, roots emerging from the earth tasting the sun's kiss once again.There were no words in the world that could describe how he felt then. Everything he worked for, all that he wished for over 100 years, came to life. Just like that. The land that had clawed at them mere hours ago, now flourished in the light of the sun, reaching for it like they were drowning. Halsin felt like the weight on his shoulders had lifted a bit. Years of feeling like there was not enough air, now seemed to ease, as every inhale came a little easier to him. For a moment he let himself rest and gazed at the scenery around him, when a high pitched yelp ripped him out of his thoughts.

Startled, he turned towards the sound: Karlach had gathered everyone in reach of her in her arms, squeezing them tight to her chest. His Songbird laughed as she was swept up in the embrace of the tiefling woman, laughing freely. He cherished the starry eyed look she had, as she looked back on the land, her chest swelling with pride. There was seldom a moment when she looked so full of wonder, so carefree.While she smiled often before the others, when no one looked, her eyes turned grim, as a heaviness Halsin recognized all too well took hold of them. Shoulders sagging as if the burden of the world sat on her shoulders. It was a relief to see her unburdened, even if only for a moment.

When his gaze lingered on her face a second too long, their eyes met and time seemed to still, nothing existing besides them for a moment. Then she shot the elf a questioning look. Shame bloomed in his chest, as Halsin had realized he got caught staring like a fool and then kept looking at her still. Suddenly he wished to make himself as small as a mouse. But to his surprise she merely reached over to him and pulled him into the hug

“You are officially one of us now.” She said sneaking her free arm around his chest, squeezing him towards her. At least he thought it was her arm.

“Next time join us earlier.” So she must have thought his stare stemmed from lacking inclusion in the group. Halsin hoped, she would not find out the real reason he had been staring.

That evening the group celebrated once again. It was rather modest, as the weeks before had depleted their ressources greatly. Still, the relief after surviving moonrise tower seemed to give them new energy. Now the whole group seemed to buzz with excitement for the next chapter to come. As they drank and talked, Halsin could feel himself relax more than he had in years before- His Pipe pressed between lips, letting out a puff of fragrant smoke and watching it swirl into the bright night sky, whittling tools in hand again, chipping away at it slowly. The ground under him was soft and warm, bustling with life, ready to begin anew.

He chuckled as the songbird watched her in an armwrestling competition with Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel on the side, discussing their forms, throwing in a bit of advice every now and then. Even if she was strong, Karlach bested the songbird easily, apologizing the whole time. Halsin could swear he saw a coin switch hands in the background. Whoever did not bet on Karlach was foolish, that woman would best everyone in camp, including himself. As Gale and Astarion started to bicker again, the songbird stood up and shooed them to do “something useful for once” with a grin. She loved them, he could see it clear as day. Seeing her made his chest uncomfortably tight.

Later that evening she came to him, out of breath, sweat glistening on her skin. She had been playing with the dog and the owlbear again. Eunning away with Scratches' ball before getting tackled, when she did not manage to run fast enough. She pointed her finger to the spot next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” She inquired, her skin flushed and eyes twinkling.

He smiled. “ No. If you want to rest here for a while, you are more than welcome.” The elf shifted to the side, allowing her to sit down next to him. She quickly made herself comfortable on the floor and crossed her legs. Her gaze shifted to his hands, holding his piece of wood.

“Can you teach me how to whittle? Every time I see you, I wonder how you do it and … I thought that this night is as good as any to ask you. If that’s not too much to ask” her voice seemed to waver at the end.

Was she nervous? Halsin wondered if he was intimating her somehow. Before he spoke he softened his tone on instinct.

“I don’t know if there is much to say about it. Most people tend to perceive it as boring, anyway. But nevertheless I’d be honored to show you, if you really want to.”

She shrugged. “Well most people can stuff it.” A huff escaped her lips when she saw the surprised look Halsin gave her.

“You do well to know what you like: They cannot take that away from you. No matter how much they sneer about it, this is yours. And besides: whittling is a hobby as good as any other.” He contemplated her words for a moment.

“Sometimes I think people look at me and think my feelings can’t be hurt” Halsin stilled for a moment “Thank you for your words. I appreciate them greatly.” She shot him a smile as the elf picked up his utensils again. While he was showing her what to use and how to begin, she listened attentively, asking for clarification a few times. When she leaned over, he could feel her warm breath on his skin. Hastily he cleared his throat and went on to explain.

“For me the vision of what I’ll carve comes when I’m already in the process. But for the first time, it would be a smart choice to already have an idea in mind.” He handed her a piece of wood, which she started turning in her hands over and over again, contemplating. Holding up his own work so he could show her.

“You could start with a spoon if you’d to begin very simple. Or if you would rather enjoy something artistic I could show you a fox or a bi-”

“A Bear.” Taken aback, Halsin looked over to her. She did not falter, as she continued. “It is you who is showing me how to do it, no? I met you as a bear the very first time. And …” She hesitated. “You do inspire me, you know? So, I would like to do a bear.”

By Silvanus, the bear would like to do you , he thought. Alone the notion that she was inspired by him of all people. Did she even know how extraordinary she was? But that was a thought he would keep to himself. So instead he said: “A Bear it is then.”

He showed her the outlines of the piece and what she would have to expect, while she was whittling. Soon they both worked in silence, elbows touching every now and then. Halsin sneaked a glance at her face: She made her focused face again, eyes solely on the wood in her hand, crouching over it, trying to find the best position for her blade. The tall elf chuckled and looked at his work again. His wooden bird came along just fine. The upper side of the outstretched wings was already apparent with its head thrown towards the sky, beak open as if right in the middle of a song. He wondered if he should carve the legs to be standing solidly on the ground or rather ready to set to the sky, when Galel came to them, asking for support on “urgent matters”.

“Thank you for your time.” came her voice from next to him. She gently brushed the shavings from her legs before standing up. “Will keep showing me how to whittle? I had a lot of fun,” her eyes held a cheeky twinkle “even if some people will call me boring now.”

With a short laugh he responded: “Well I hope you do well to know that you can be boring with me anytime.”

“Well. Until we meet here again, to be boring together.” She cackled and waved him goodbye, walking alongside the talking wizard. As Halsin watched her leave, he wondered why his chest was so tight again.

Sighing, he gathered the wood chips on one pile, cradling the rough wood between his big hands before discarding it.

It was not that he wanted to harbor her for himself. Far from it. She was a beacon of light in these dark times, one that everyone was sure to enjoy having around. And she seemed to like the company of her friends so much. But still his heart betrayed him. He would have loved to sit alone with her a moment longer, her light breathing next to him and their skin touching gently. Maybe she would lean over again, so he could smell her hair. In the short moments when the wind blew just right, her smell carried over to him: fire and berries. He wondered how she managed to smell like that. Maybe he would have asked her about it. Maye she she would have accidentally brushed his hand and he would have gathered his courage, reaching for it, holding it tight. A shudder ran through him. Maybe it was better that she left. He wondered how much longer desire in him would have stayed silent, when it wanted nothing more than to hear her breath coming quicker, tasting the sweetness of her skin, telling him that she needed him like a song- He shushed himself, swatting at his thoughts like they were flies. He picked up the wood she left for the next time. Weighing it in his hands, he looked at it. A Bear she wanted to whittle. He chuckled sadly. As if she had not been whittling away at his guard for such a long time.

Whilst on their way to Baldurs Gate, she came to his tent every evening and they calmly whittled away. Most of the time, both of them sat in silence. But sometimes they would share a few words, talking about their interests and stories, sharing comfort in their presence. One quit evening, when the others were gathering some supplies on the road, leaving the camp in a state of unusual calm, she opened up to him about her insecurities. Telling him about her experience as the group leader, comparing it to her wildly different life before.

In the spur of the moment Halsin asked her if she wanted to go back after this was all done. The whittling stopped, while her brow furrowed. For a second he was afraid that he overstepped. Was ist too personal? Did it bring up troubling memories for her?

But she laid her hand on his arm and found his gaze. “Actually I prefer it now. Even in these dire times.,” in her eyes a sudden bitterness pooled. ”I got all of you now, after all. That is more than I had before.” As her gaze shifted towards her workpiece again, Halsin noticed her hand lingering on his skin before pulling away to adjust her grip on the wood. The spot on his skin her hand had rested upon, felt empty now. He turned his head towards his own project again, not wanting to inquiry any further.

It was peaceful for a few days. So peaceful that he nearly forgot all the horrors that the world entails. Soon they reached Rivington. Their excitement for the city had already turned to anxiety as they reached the city gates, being denied entry as all the refugees were. For Halsin this Situation was unbearable. Seeing all these people in little makeshift tents, sleeping on the cold hard floor, having barely enough food to feed all the children. hated the city for its uncaring nature. Seeing all of the city's misdeeds he wondered if they felt any shame at all. All this time he held himself to such high standards, as he tried again and again to be deserving of the title as Archdruid. The leaders of this city could leave a legion to starve right before the city gates and be praised for it.

Since they took Yenna into their camp, he tried his best to keep his composure. The young girl was already scared enough and did not need to see the adults around her losing their nerves too. So he tried his very best to appear calm and collected, while a storm raged under his skin, growing stronger every day. One hungry face at a time.

The final breaking point approached in front of the circus gates. Halsin had seen the posters advertising the circus time and time again. A clown they all seemed to be excited for. Telling him about the jokes he would tell and all the attractions that could be seen. He did not truly understand the concept of that yet but he was willing to try, if the group decided to visit.

But in a cruel twist of fate, it seemed they did not need to go to the circus but rather it came to them. When it started to dawn, his group decided to pack up for the night, making their way down the roads of Rivington. A rather big crowd had formed cheering a sturdy human man on as he cracked his whip, forcing the animals to dance on small stands, as a middle aged woman played a fast song on a wooden flute. His blood ran hot through his veins as anger seemed to swallow him whole. He could feel the bear in him stir, ready to attack and tear the flesh of this disgusting person's bones. The noise around him made him nauseous. Halsin didn’t know why the fighting started. One moment he was thinking about ripping and screaming and the other he saw his songbird emerge from the crowd, weapon in hand, fighting a cloaked figure. Jumping forth as fur emerged from his skin, he did not care who started it at all. He was glad for the fight.

After the battle was won, Halisin stayed as a bear, wishing for the comfort this shape brought him. His strong body shifting on his paws, every smell more intense but also his mind quieted a little. Everything seemed more manageable like this. But now even as a bear his heart pounded and his breathing did not seem to slow. As Halsin stood still, he noticed that his body was shaking like leafs in the wind, the memories of long bygone times whispering in his mind, demanding to be seen, no matter how much he seemed to push them away. He growled and made his way back to camp with the others. He needed to be away from everything for a while. No one should see him losing control like that.

He did not care what looks he became as he nearly ran through camp, ignoring his name being shouted. There were only his feet, pounding on the ground, coming quicker with every moment until he was sprinting into the first spot of trees he could see, not stopping until his feet reached water. The Lake. Exhaling he pressed his snout into the water only coming up for air when he felt like his lungs were about to explode. He did not want to be alone like this. But also he could not go back, have them ask questions about why. Especially when he did not seem to know either.

A thump behind him alerted him prompting his muscles to tense on instinct. He sprung around, jaws open to expose his sharp teeth. She stopped in her tracks, carefully holding up her hands.

“Halsin? Do you need help? Are you hurt?” Her voice was gentle but Halsin detected an urgency behind it. Looking for a reaction, she slowly stepped close to him, kneeling down an arms length away, her right hand outstretched towards him and stilled. Uncertain his eyes flickered between her and the trees. The light had already vanished, casting her silhouette in blue and gray hues, as she silently waited for him to breach the distance. He realized that she was leaving him the choice: To either come to her or run away if he felt the need.

Desperation clawed at him. Why did he even hold back? What was it good for in the end? She was here now, offering comfort. He would be a fool to deny her. So he took the last step towards her and laid his face into her hand. A sigh escaped her lips, that he could only describe as relieved. Soon enough her fingers started carefully stroking him. Minutes passed, his breathing coming slightly slower than before, his mind gradually clearing from the fog of panic he was lost in.

“Oh my sweet friend.” she whispered, her steady voice not much about a whisper. Her right hand was still on the side of his face, gently caressing him. He did not want to bear the burden anymore, to shoulder it all alone. All the memories of hardship and loss, the memory of himself sitting behind cold and rotting Goblinbars and, before that, behind a closed bedroom door, his eyes tracing the pattern of the carvings on the door time and time again until they burned themselves behind his closed eyes.

It broke him when he saw the eyes of the animals. He knew the look all too well.Some of them had no hope of escaping anymore. Those who did looked like they paid greatly for their resistance: Time and time again under the cruelty of their so called masters. One day even those who held on the longest would give in. They would become the broken puppets the Circus desired. Their fur dulled, their scales spotty. Dancing to some people's badly played lute. Carving patterns into the iron rods. He could have sworn that they would carve and carve like he did-

Halin shuddered and pulled his fangs back. If he would not be in his bear form already, it surely would have been broken free by now. He could taste the blood in his mouth, could free it dripping down on the cold forest floor. Halsin wanted to pull back. He did not want her to see him like this, afraid and grappling for control. He felt his trembling in the trees around them.

When her other hand appeared on his head, he finally looked up. His eyes adjusted in the dark to really look at her. After the fight, she had thrown the upper half of her armor away and traded it for a dirty shirt which by now had been stained with no small amount of blood. With her arms outstretched towards him, he was able to see the smears and stains that appeared blue and purple on her skin and hair. Blood both from her own wounds and those inflicted on others were running over her skin like a river delta. Even though she smelled like blood and sweat and leather, the wind carried the faintest whiff of berries- It startled him. After all this her hair still smelled like herself. It was absurd.

Halsin wondered if he began imagining things. Nevertheless, his tension eased a bit as he allowed himself to step an inch closer, nostrils flared. She smelled lovely, more now than ever.

“Let me help you. My gentle bear, let me heal your wounds.” She whispered again, her hands stroking his fur, beckoning him closer.

My Bear, she had said. If his mind had been clearer, he would have asked her about it. But right now Halsin gave in and pressed his head even harder into her hands. He did not want to think anymore. He wanted to relax into her warm touch and forget.

She pulled him close, guiding his head onto her lap, as she sat on the stained earth below them. Halsin let himself fall to the floor, his strained limbs protesting. The Bear groaned as he adjusted himself to laying on the floor, without bothering his wounds too much. As soon as he stilled, one of her hands started to caress his neck, the other gently touching his snout. It had stopped dripping blood, but he tasted it still on his tongue. He winced again, wishing to wash the foul smell of these people away.

"Shhh." She hummed “ It’s alright. You’re alright. Let me take care of you.” Her hands suddenly stilled. “Can you show me where you are hurt?”

In my heart he wanted to say. But the bear was not able to speak and he was glad for it, his treacherous thoughts would not reach her ear. Instead he forced himself to turn himself on his side, so she could see his stomach. His already dark fur was clumped with strands of blood and dirt, in the night it seemed to be almost black. When he had pushed himself on his hindlegs to strike at his opponents, his soft underpart was exposed just long enough to strike him.

In the darkness she reached over, her hand already glowing. Bowing her head onto his, her forehead silently connecting with him, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Halsin felt her magic on his body as it encouraged flesh to mend and skin to heal. To him her energy felt like hope in new beginnings. Like the soaring of wings. It felt like being home again. Almost felt like the relief he felt after they saved Thaniel. She truly was his sun, with the way her entire being seemed to emit warm light, his beacon that guided him through the darkest of times. Everywhere she went, it felt summer had begun anew.

Only moments passed until his body was healed, but her hands stayed on his fur long after it. Several minutes went by in silence, with only their breathing filling the space between them. After a while she groaned and repositioned her leg, wincing. Guilt exploded in his chest as he looked up, slightly pulling away from her, reading her expression. She gave him a tired smile, bloodied lips stretching to reveal her dimples. Halsin realized how exhausted she really looked, not only from the battle but rather carrying the weariness of all the weeks in her eyes. And still she went to care for him, before all others.

Halsin wanted nothing more than to keep her to himself, to shield her from all her sorrows and to be held by her in return: To find comfort in each other. The desire to hold her tight seemed to burn through his chest, gnawing his way up until he felt like he could choke. Who was he to ask anything of her? He tried pulling away from her completely, but her hand on his back tightened

“Don’t go away. Please. I don’t want… “ She trailed off. Halsin saw a flicker of anxiety on her face. “Stay, please. Just for a moment.”

She let go, stretching her arms out wide in front of him. An Invitation. Halsin noticed that her eyes held the same request, like the day she asked him to dance and like so many nights before It would only take him so little to accept. He forced himself to push his worry down, as the Bear pushed his head into her hand. In an instant she pulled him close into her chest, pressing her face into his fur. The bear inhaled sharply as her arms tightened around him in a silent plea. It felt like she tried to wrap her entire body around him. Carefully he lifted one of his blood-soaked paws and wrapped himself around her, gently pulling her into his chest. Now she nearly laid on him, her body rising and falling quickly with his ragged breath. It still was very fast.

As if reading his thoughts she murmured: “Breathe with me.” Pushing himself back on his hind legs, he pulled her even further onto him, which earned him a soft laugh from her, and rested his head carefully on her back, observing her steady breathing. Trying to detect a pattern, he started to exhale and inhale in rhythm with her, his heart slowing down little by little. Relief washed over him, gentle but strong, like an ocean wave that came upon the shore. A part of him wondered if she knew how much this calmed him, breathing together as the gentle night breeze carried it away.

Hasin felt her hand begin to draw patterns on his chest, trying to untangle the knots in his fur whenever her fingers catched a particularly bad one and finally closed his eyes. Nothing could coax him away from this moment, having her in his arms, her warmth seeping into his fur, holding a light within him that kept his sorrows at bay. If the world would have ended in this moment, he would not care for it.

After what felt like hours of peaceful silence, he felt her stir again. She hesitated for a moment but then turned her mouth towards his ear and spoke.

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Halsin felt like his heart wanted to explode in his chest. Warmth began spreading in his body, sending a pleasant feeling into his exhausted body. My bear. The first time he heard the word could have been a mistake on his part, born of wishful thinking and the blood flowing from his wounds. But she said it again. And again. My bear. Oh to be hers indeed.

Halsin wished her to hold him like this every night, have her close, let her stroke his hair and tell him that there is nothing to worry about, like a prayer that only he could hear. To have her say that he is safe with her again and again until he started believing it again. And he would swear to her that she is safe with him, promising it with every breath, kissing it into her skin. He would be pulling her in his arms softly as either elf or bear. Holding her and letting himself be held. Feeling her body against his, shielding her from harm. Halsin desperately wanted to worship her every inch, calling her all the wondrous things he could think of.

Showing her how much he needed her in any way possible, hearing her scream his name into the night, her moans just as beautiful as her songs. He longed to leave his mark upon her skin, to show everyone how desired she was, for nature had made her so very beautiful, inside and out. If she did not know by then that she was like the sweetest honey to him, he would make sure she knew every day and night.

He scolded himself for being selfish. But her words, the way she called him mine; he wondered if there was any possibility she could return his feelings after all. That she felt the same way he did, when she gazed at him. Why else would she call him my bear? But uncertainty rang loudly in his ears. What would he do, if he was wrong about it? She called the others my friend and some even sweetheart. What if he misunderstood her intentions and she left him, disgusted by his brazen words? No, disgusted by him.

Then he would never be able to look at himself again. Only imagining that she could sneer at him and turn away hurt him beyond comprehension.

Tonight he could not muster the strength. Too sweet was her embrace, too comforting her words. And he was so tired of pretending he possessed strength that had left him years ago.

Nestling even further into her skin, he savored every second. He just wanted to breathe in her scent and pretend that his feelings were returned. Pretend that he was wanted the same way like he wanted her. Pretend that there were better days to come for him, where he could be himself with her. Building a safehouse for everyone who needed it so that no one would ever fear for their lives again. He imagined never carrying so much weight again. But those were far away dreams. No, tonight Halsin could not shoulder the dark shroud of reality. Instead he vowed to ask her about it, to finally ask her if she felt the same. Tomorrow.

If he only knew, how much she yearned to do the same.