#you have like 7 younger siblings go to town

[i-am-a-freg]

Me: *prays for patience*

God: *gives me chances to practice my patience*

Me: no wait not like that

[mukuharakazui]

"Alphabet mafia" was funny (courtesy of @birthclod) so here are my alphabet mafia + nationality headcanons for Town of Salem's best faction (sorry to the roles without skins </3)

[haesunflower]

zb1 as the "best friend's brother" trope

genre: fluff/comedy

pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone

about/tags: zerobaseone as "best friend's brother" but not all are romantic

thank you anon for req, some are not accurate in terms of siblings, mentions of violence but not actually violent, kinda pg for jiwoong, secret relationships for some, yujin is platonic!

⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀

"she's gonna kill me when she finds out, you know"

jiwoong is occupied with tracing small kisses along your neck, too busy showering you with affection to care about what his sister thinks about dating you

"so?" he says. you try to push him away, giggling while you try to explain that older brothers are usually off limits.

he's a full on tease, and he knows exactly the power he holds over you when he says "you'd bend the rules for me though, yeah?"

you kiss him again as confirmation "yeah, yeah i would"

your best friend, does in fact think about ~killing~ you when she finds out

but she sees how much her brother has changed, he's happier now, and decides maybe it is better that you stay together.

⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀

(i know he's an only child so let's just pretend okay)

one thing about you and hao is that you can both take a secret to your graves

so no one ever finds about you sneaking out of his sister's room during your weekend sleepovers, only to cuddle up to him on his bed. no one finds out about the secret dates you go on in the next town over, so that you don't get caught. and no one finds out about the secret phones you both use to contact each other.

if you have to be in the same room together, he's not even making any eye contact with you. it's better to ignore each other in public, like you always have.

when you guys are 7 months into the relationship, spooning on his bed, he asks "how long do you want to keep us a secret?

to which you reply "not any longer than you want to."

so yeah, you can both keep a secret – until you decide you want to share it to the world

your friend is disgusted, but happy for you. emphasis on disgusted tho.

⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀

you like going to ludia cafe because one, food is always free as long as you're with hanareum (hanbin's younger sister) and two, hanbin makes the said food

you have a massive schoolgirl crush on hanbin, and he is aware to some degree that you like him. i mean you ask all sorts of questions like "oppa what do you like doing for fun?" or "oppa are you seeing anyone?" "oppa what are you going to study for university? "

and him being the nice person that he is, he answers all your questions genuinely with a large customer service smile

after he debuted you kept supporting him as a fan, only to show up to girls planet season two a year later to make your debut too.

when he sees you again, hanbin tells you that you grew up really well, and that you can rely on him as a sunbae. your relationship stays like that for a while, platonic hoobae and sunbae. on holidays, you even travel to your hometown together. and you see each other outside work often because you both show up to support hanareum's sporting events.

it takes a while, like YEARS, for hanbin to view you as a potential romantic interest. but seeing you laugh alongside his sister during chuseok, he can't help but think about how you're technically already part of the family.

⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀

don't get it twisted HE has a crush on YOU

being neighbors and the same age as his older sister yaeby, meant that you practically grew up in the seok household too. but you always viewed matthew as your best friend's dorky little brother.

you and yaeby used to dress him up in girl clothes and make him perform, and as he got older, this evolved to him becoming an errand boy for whenever you guys had parties or friends over. matthew of course he did everything you asked because he finds you so so so pretty, how can he say no?

you're an avid supporter of their entire family, so you also fly to korea to support matthew during the finals, along with his mom and sister. he's a little surprised when he sees you, then a little embarrassed when he realized you also saw him cry like a baby.

you ruffled his hair and said "congrats matthew!!"

now, he actively flirts with you for fun because you'll always be his first crush. you never considered taking his advances seriously up until recently because when the hell did he grow up

woohyun oppa agenda is working....and yae makes fun of you for it

⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀

he's practicing a song he wrote in the living room when his older sister innocently asks who it's about

"um...yeah it's...it's umm about...umm.." literally cannot give a straight answer because how do you tell your older sister that it's a song for her best friend

her best friend that he secretly makes out with behind the school parking lot, her best friend that drives with him to go get takeout at 2am, and her best friend that he's so painfully in love with but doesn't have the actual guts to ask them out

"is it about y/n?" he's shocked when his sister asks. he finds out that you've already told her, and he's relieved he doesn't have to walk around eggshells anymore.

actually his sister has known all along, you were very open and honest about it when you started catching feelings about your bff's younger brother. taerae had just assumed you were ashamed to be dating someone a year younger, so he thought he ought to keep it a secret unless told otherwise

when he confesses that to you, you can't help but giggle. you proceed to squish his cheeks as you say "why would I ever want to keep you a secret, silly"

⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀

ricky thinks it's so cute, how you're constantly paranoid that someone will catch you two doing something remotely couple-y

you guys weren't a secret or anything, but you wanted to remain ~respectful~ and would very much want to avoid being teased by your friend group. therefore keeping pda at a minimum.

when he hugs you in the middle of his kitchen, you attempt to release his grip from you when you say "what if someone sees, ricky?"

"look around, no one's here" and he's right, no one is there. so you let him bury his face into your neck as he hugs you, and he's whispering something about how you smell like warm vanilla cookies.

when his sister, your best friend, enters the room she says something along the lines of "ugh you two are so gross. get a room."

and you're all like -_- "see. i told you this was gonna happen."

⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀

you have the biggest crush on him and you don't even try to hide it

your best friend tells you that you have no chance, after all his brother is a "hot commodity" in the school. but you wanna make yourself known as an option, you're only a year younger after all!

you literally bum around their house every weekend, and flat out flirt in front of everyone. "when's our date, gyuvin oppa ;)" or "how long are you going to keep me waiting for you?"

you remain unbothered at his clumsy and awkward responses, and strongly believe that in the end, he'll fall for you anyways. your best friend calls you extremely delusional and overconfident – but, gyuvin lowkey finds it adorable that you have a little crush on him

you're right tho about him falling for you in the end

once you stopped visiting the house every weekend, gyuvin asks his brother why you haven't been coming over anymore

"oh hyung, they have a boyfriend now"

and he's all like "boyfriend? since when? what? i thought they liked me?"

is slightly offended and highly intrigued that you got a boyfriend w/o him knowing

⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀

gunwook often wonders why his older brother isn't dating you.

"hyung, are you sure you're just best friends. like sure sure?"

because he thinks you're the perfect person: beautiful, smart, tall, funny, even plays genshin impact. his brother teases him, "if you think she's so great, why don't YOU date her gunwook-ah"

as if on cue, you walk back into the room and ask what everyone's talking about. and gunwook's brother just full on exposes him like "gunwook has a crush on you"

his cheeks turn so red, and he's so defensive when he says "hyung, i do not!"

you think it's adorable, so you pinch gunwook's bready cheeks :D saying something along the lines of "you're too young for me wookie"

⠀⠀ han yujin ⠀⠀

you're really close friends with yujin's older brother

and yujin often goes to you for "girl advice" since you're the only girl he knows that isn't his classmate sjhdbjh

he'd ask questions about what gifts to give when you confess to someone, what to say in a love letter, and he'd even ask for date place recommendations

you're bamboozled as to why yujin is such a sweet kid, meanwhile his brother is a pain in your friend group's ass

one time yujin got rejected, and you found him sulking alone at the dinner table eating the box of cookies he was gonna give his crush. he offers you one, and you both eat in silence before consoling him.

"yujinie, you're still young. you'll meet plenty of other people that are a far better match for you. don't worry." he mumbles something about being single forever and you giggle, telling him he's being a little dramatic lol

A/N: i tried researching on their siblings to find out if y/n would be older or younger lol but again, not all are accurate!!

personally, the jiwoong one got me.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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[boolger]

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 1 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[chapter 1] ☆[chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5]☆ [chapter 6] ☆[chapter 7]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 1/10 ☆ 1,843 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, more will be added.

☆ note: I’m trying to keep the reader’s appearance vague, but she is afab, chubby and has shoulder length hair. ☆ As for plot – I’m not sure if I saw the post on tumblr or tiktok and I cant find it lol, but it mentioned reversing the more classic fanfic plots. So for example, the main character isn’t kidnapped by a mob boss - but kidnaps the mob boss. So, that is what I started with and then I will freestyle along the way. ☆ There will be mention of chronic illness and death of a character, not a main one, but the reader's little sister, but I try not to go into details about the illness aspect (since I don’t know too much about that). There will be focus on grief and the loss of a sibling however, so if that triggers or makes you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read this one. ☆ dubious consent in the later chapters, that might border to non-con. ☆ Badly described hacking. I don’t know shit about hacking, I've studied things in the humanities category the last six years. So if a bad understanding of tech makes you upset, I'm sorry.

Being a hacker wasn’t as glamorous as you had expected when you were younger. After everything with your sister, you had expected things to change, sure, but not into this. Everything was even more of a mess than before and somehow you got into blackmailing. Which, well… When you hit the right people, it paid well.

And sure, you had felt strong at first. Like you were invincible, a vigilante who blackmailed rich and awful people. You needed the money more than them, after all. Yet, the clock kept ticking and you needed more money fast. You needed more money to pay the last of your debts off and run away.

Which was how you ended up like this, blackmailing the mob.

The 141 gang was infamous on the streets of London. Most people knew who you talked about and those who didn’t, were often tourists or recently moved to the town. Whether they were hated or loved, really depended on who you asked. Some people said they made their areas safer, so they now had less crimes - others said they were horrendous bastards, who acted above the law. In truth, you didn’t really care. You weren’t a model citizen yourself, running around and blackmailing people. All you cared about was the fact that they had money, lots of it and they were easy to blackmail, since they didn’t want to be exposed.

Now, threatening them with the local police? Wouldn’t do much, it had to be to everybody – and then all the journalists too. Sure, you didn’t really have the energy to mass email out all the proof you had, but the 141 didn’t need to know that. You had them believe that you were a small group of people anyways and not just… you.

You, out in the almost empty house, over 50 miles away from London. It was much more lonely out here now. Half a year ago, you and your sister lived out here in peace, happy with how everything was going despite her illness flaring up now and again.

Now it was empty and lonely. Sometimes, when the wind hit the house at the right angle, you could hear the cars from the nearby motorway.

Alas, the 141 thought you were a big and bad group of hackers, threatening to take their kingdom down - and sure, you had a lot of stuff of theirs that could be bad in the wrong hands. You had papers, screenshots and recordings from when you hacked into different security cameras. You had traced a lot of them too, you had evidence.

Now they just needed to pay.

So far, they hadn’t really been fun to play with. They refused, saying that you were bluffing. Saying that if they saw you, they were going to kill you, which wasn’t really nice of them. You doubted they couldn’t survive without 60,000 pounds. Sure, it was a lot of money - but you needed them too. A bit more, you dared to think. And for a whole mobster empire? Seemed like a good deal to you.

Besides, you were so curious that you wanted to die: Who was their boss? Nobody knew. Everyone had ideas and theories, sure, but the famous Watcher was still unknown, even to you - which bothered you so much. You had your own theories, your main one was that this Watcher was really just John Price.

No matter who the Watcher was - and how good your deal was - they were just so fucking stubborn. So, you needed to prove that you were serious. You didn’t really have the time to mess around and send them more photos or shit, so according to movies you saw - and google - it was time to step up.

Go from hacker to kidnapper. Which really hadn’t been a career plan of yours, but here you were.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You had tracked one of them, the Scot that everyone called Soap, so that you could follow them from a distance. You weren’t stupid enough to actually try to shadow them. Despite them not hanging around the finest streets of London, your beat up van stuck out sometimes.

Plans? Sure, you had… some of those. At least, you knew what not to do.

First of all - You weren’t going to take Price, people were around him all the time anyways and if he was the leader as you suspected, that wouldn’t go well.

Secondly, all his men were out of the picture too. At least those who always hang around him, because some of their biceps were bigger than your face.

Third, you had to avoid a proper fight - so that meant waiting for the right moment. You had a taser, duct tape and you had some strong sedatives. You were going to hack your way out of fighting.

Fourth and final point so far - get away as fast as possible. You weren’t going to stick around.

So just… wait for the right person, then tase, inject, duct tape, drive away. It was fine. You had all the components, you just needed to put it all together, then blackmail the group, get the money, drop off the person and then get away.

Your van was blue and rusty, the engine was loud and all the back seats were taken out, since you had lived in it for a little while, outside the hospital. The mattress you used to have in the back was pulled away, since you needed it for the captive to sleep on inside the house. They would have to deal with being on the car floor for the trip - they would most likely be sedated anyways. Now there was just some trash in the back of the car that you should probably have cleaned up, but didn’t care to, since the car bore bad memories - as well as some small electronic pieces that you had picked up here and there, thinking you would need to use it for experiments.

As the group came to a stop at a pub you knew they went to sometimes, you went behind it and parked next to a bigger car, which hid your van a little. Then you waited.

You wore some of your more discreet clothing. The baby-metal band t-shirts were hidden beneath a grey hoodie, with the least monster energy drink stains on, and a pair of rugged jeans. If your sister had been here she would have rolled your eyes at you and said you looked like a teenager trying to be rebellious - and not a 25-year old woman. You missed being told that. Your hair was hanging loosely, hoping it would hide your face a little. Your septum piercing was tipped up and hidden, and you had changed your usual silver tongue piercing for a clear one. Though you doubted that it was your tongue piercing that would be damning evidence.

After waiting about 25 minutes you crawled over the seats rather inelegantly, opening the sliding door to turn towards the other car, for some fresh air.

You were tired, yet stressed at the same time. It was unnecessarily stressful to kidnap somebody, especially when you didn’t really want to.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was about a power nap and 30 minutes later, when you were ripped from your thoughts at the sounds of the back door opening and a female voice telling somebody that she needed her cigarettes. You tipped your head forward a little, seeing how she closed the backdoor behind her.

You had seen her before. She seemed to be near the others a lot of the time.

She looked in her 40s, with light brown hair that almost looked a little blond in the rare sunlight of London. Nicely dressed, a confident smile on her face as she pulled her car keys from her bag and the car right next to you lit up.

Maybe a girlfriend? Wife? Secretary?

No matter what, the chance was too good to be true.

Somehow you managed to catch her off guard as she seemed more focused on finding her cigarettes as she opened her car door – so that was when you struck, tasing her. Everything happened so fast - yet not fast enough at the same time.

You pushed the needle into her skin, as she groaned, clearly a little confused from being tased - and most likely from hitting your car floor - as soon as the contents were injected you pulled the needle out again. The woman groaned and grabbed your wrist, mumbling something. You pushed it off, grabbing the roll of duct tape you had prepared, pushing her onto her stomach. She wasn’t going without a fight though and you wanted to cry as she managed to pull her hand free. You needed the bloody drug to kick in this minute.

You sat down on her back, your weight useful - the work of wrapping her wrists together was honestly shit. YouTube made it look so much easier.

You ignored her as she began to curse you out. grabbing her bag, emptying the content on the floor of the car, eyes constantly flickering to her. She seemed confused - so you focused. There was an Apple air tag in it, that you hurriedly picked up. There was no phone though. You wanted to throw up, this was taking longer than it should.

She tried sitting up, having rolled onto her back again, your eyes meeting. Hers were cloudy, while yours were focused. You pushed her down again, hands running over her jacket. The moment your hand touched the familiar shape of a phone, your hand dug into the pocket, not even trying to be nice about it. She was mumbling about how what you were doing was wrong, but you didn’t need to be told that.

As soon as you got the phone, you got up and crawled in between the front seats, sitting down and starting the car. You needed to get the hell out of here, now.

The sound of the shitty engine drowned out her complaints. You drove off as quickly as you could, throwing her phone and the AirTag out in a couple of bushes that the car passed.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was several minutes later that you concluded that nobody was following you, which made you breathe a little easier.

As you waited for the green light, you looked over your shoulder, taking in the sight of the woman on the floor of your car, in between empty monster cans, cables and small electronics. She was laying quietly, but you could see her chest moving.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? You could feel an anxiety attack crawling along your ribs, threatening to overwhelm you.

As soon as the money was transferred, you dropped her off again - and then you could run, somewhere up north. Start somewhere fresh, where you don't know anybody. Where the 141 or bad memories couldn’t find you. Maybe get a dog.

First things first, however. You needed to get this whole kidnapping thing done.

[the-universal-sun]

Do you have any little Fiddleford hcs?

I haven’t really thought about before, but you’ve inspired me. Thank you! Please let me know if this is what you were thinking of!

I don’t really think he’d start regressing until after the memory gun is created and Ford goes through the portal. His mind is in shambles, he’s stressed, anxious, and neurotic all the time basically. He’s probably homeless/living in the dump at this point, too. So all that combined leads his mind retreating to a safer age, a younger age. It’s the one good thing besides the Society that he has.

Now, let’s imagine he goes to the Mystery Shack to confront Ford after a memory is triggered and he finds Stan instead, after Stan explains his connection to Ford, Fidds tells Stan that he used to be Ford’s research partner but left for reasons he couldn’t and didn’t want to remember. Stan, feeling sorry for the squirrelly little man, offers to drive him home, but when they reach the dump he’s been staying at, he offers Fidds to stay back at the shack. He doesn’t do it out of kindness, though a part of him is sympathetic given he was homeless for a decade up until a year ago, but because he thinks he can convince Fidds to help him with the portal. Stan’s a conman, so it doesn’t take him too long to get Fidds to agree to stay, just for the winter at least.

I would imagine that they don’t spend time together until Stan convinces Fidds to help with the portal, which took weeks to do. And he’s still not happy about and refuses to go down to the basement. He’ll do the equations and teach Stan the engineering bits, but that’s all he does, and he’s only doing that much because Ford still is his friend.

Onto the actual headcanons:

- Stan doesn’t really notice anything too out of the ordinary at first, Fiddleford is already an odd, fluttering, and anxious mess with a fractured mind, so seeing him act less like an almost 30 year old and more like a 7 year old isn’t out of the question, who knows the effects of the memory gun?

- It only clicks for Stan after living with and observing Fidds for a couple of months. Stan is actually not surprised or weirded out. He’s lived on the streets for 10 years, he’s seen his fair share of different behaviors, and this is one he actually sort of knows about. One of the prisons he was in made him go to weekly group therapy and this was brought up more than a few times.

- For all the fronts that Stan puts up, he’s a deeply caring and emotional man when it comes to his loved ones, and Fiddleford wiggled his way into his heart quite easily, so he’s going to look after the little guy. That being said, he won’t make it obvious that he knows and cares (he’s being so obvious it’s painful). He speaks softly to Fidds when he notices him feeling smaller, offers kid friendly food and shows, and doesn’t let him work on the portal’s math. And sometimes rocks him to sleep. He’s not obvious at all.

- Fidds is a smart man, he knows what’s going on, he knows that Stan knows what’s going on. But he doesn’t mind so much, having Stan there just helps his anxiety and quiets his mind. Plus, he hasn’t been called “Little Fella/Guy” since he was actually 7 years old, and it feels nice to be taken care of instead. He took care of his 5 younger siblings, his cousins, Ford, his own family, technically he takes care of the town with the Society of the Blind Eye, so this is a nice change

- He does have the energy and eccentricity of Old Man McGucket when regressed. He’s just a boy from the south who loves to run in the dirt and hock loogies sometimes. Stan encourages it, encourages Fidds being loud and playful and full of energy, something he never got to be. It was beaten out of him, but damn if he ain’t gonna make sure that his boy can experience childish joy

- You know how sometimes kids from the south have the strongest and cutest country accent? That’s how Fidds sounds when regressed and Stan cannot get enough of it. He usually hates the accent, but coming from his Little Man? It’s the best sound he’s ever heard, and if he hears anyone making fun of it, he’s punching their lights out

-Fidds is an engineer at heart, always has been, so Stan swipes him some wooden stacking blocks, some child’s robotics sets, and some advanced looking Rubix cubes. Of course when Fidds is feeling overwhelmed and super anxious, not wanting to think for a little bit, Stan acquired some kid friendly books from the library, some crayons and marker, and regular old printer paper

- About every picture Fidds ends up drawing gets put on the refrigerator by Stan. He’s so happy and he loves them

- I headcanon that Stan shows love through home made gifts and quality time, like with Dipper and Mabel’s fishing hats and the time he spent with them, so he makes gifts for Fidds. He’ll draw with him and give him the drawing to keep afterwards (they’re all in Fidds’ little treasure/memory chest), he’ll spend time learning and making food he grew up eating, home made biscuits and gravy, buttermilk pie are the first he learned and are what Fidds wants to eat the most. He hand sews stuffed toys for him, Fidds’ favorite is a dog that was made with different cloth patches, he carries the affectionately named Copper with him everywhere

- Fidds loves being with Stan, his Bubba, he loves the care he can see and feel with each action. His soft touches when Fidds gets into a fit, his soft voice, he never yells and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows why, but his head is too fuzzy to think on it. Fidds was always the one in charge, the big brother, so it’s nice having his Bubba take care of him. He gets fed, he stays warm, and on the days when Fidds feels awful in his mind, he gets wrapped up in a blanket burrito and just held and carried everywhere, all day. He loves Stan

- When Fidds gets scratches and scrapes from playing outside, Stan kisses his boo boos for healing and puts a colorful bandage over it. And then kisses them again for good luck

- His juice has to be watered down or he’s bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute, which is cute and all, but not when it’s been nonstop running for 4 hours

- He once had an accident after a nightmare during his nap. He just sat there sobbing until Stan came, he was so scared that Stan would be disgusted and would yell at him. But when Stan found him, all he did was whisper a soft “Little Man”, pick him up, and bring him to the bathroom to give him a warm bath, wrap him up in a burrito with a clean blanket and Copper, and rock him back to sleep.

- Stan loves taking care of Fidds, he likes being needed sure, but he truly does care for Fiddleford, whether he’s the genius engineer helping his get his brother back, or his Little Guy, who loves to draw horses and pigs and can solve a Rubix cube in 15 minutes. And Fiddleford loves Stanley, his best friend who’s helping him stop with the memory gun use and eagerly listens to his engineering lessons, and his Bubba who draws with him and kisses his boo boos when he falls down

- In conclusion, Fiddleford H. McGucket is just a little guy

[ofcowardiceandkings]

companion piece of young Zelda

AAHH i finally finished something :'D

it actually took more thought to trawl through my feelings about Link as a child than Zelda but we got there idk man i just knew he exudes gremlin energy as a 17 to 20-something year old so he must have been a little demon as a kid gfkdjfkd

we're sort of looking at roughly 4, 7 and 10 years old here feeding sum pigeons, playing soldiers, and doing some baking !!!

more detailed Thoughts under the cut 💙

iiitssss customary ranting about my BotW/TotK opinions tiiiimeeee welcome my darlingsss jfkdjfkd 💙

like i said, this took more thought than Zelda, but we also dont know as much about Link's upbringing so thats fair

having said that, we know his father was a knight - a prominent one - and its hinted at that his family may have owned the Hateno house you can buy from Bolson. im not sure if i land on it being the family / childhood home or belonging to like a grandparent but i like to think Link spent time in Hateno as a kid (im a great fan of bumpkin Link with a country accent aight im a simple man). no mention of any OTHER family members, but imo i think his mother was still around and he probably had younger siblings !! he DID probably spend a fair amount of time in Castle Town just due to his father's job though, to be fair he probably travelled a little as a youngster a-la army posting yknow ... moving on tldr that explains why i've got a bunch of Hateno-esque clothing here aside from us sort of not knowing what the average joe Castle Town citizen from back in the day would have worn idk man its cute also

SO, pigeons !!! i'll definitely expand on this later when i go over more livestock now ive finished TotK but listen i wouldnt be in the least bit surprised if pre-Calamity Hylians had domestic pigeons for sending messages or just for hobby, so here's a first look at the Castle Town Carrier, the Hylian army's best flying friends. Link's just out here feeding his fathers' cohort's messenger birbs :3

stimky boy plays soldiers with a stick and a pot lid and a tub, classic and good, he was probably like ... actually tactically aware at this age though lets be real lol i bet it was annoyingly impressive

C A R R O T C A K E its a bit wonky, but i bet it tastes great :') id imagine Link probably spent a fair amount of time helping around the house and boy loves his food !! some people develop those skills early !!! i bet he was one of those people !!! any chance to get involved and learn how to make his faves and make them for other people yknow, food as a love language everyone HEYO (bowl there is chickaloo tree nuts, hazelnut analog eyo)

ghfjkdjfkd i said i didnt have much to say about this but oops

[venomroses]

Zones Fashion

Obviously we all know how killjoys dress, but not everyone in the desert is a killjoy. So here's my headcanons about how non-killjoys in the desert dress. Below the cut because this is gonna get long:

Note: Edited this so rb this version please!

These forms of dress are specific to smaller, more isolated groups where people are usually at least 1st gen zoneborn, and doesn't apply to neutral towns, killjoys, those who follow more traditional city styles, etc. Also I know I said I was going to do drawings for this and I might add those later but for now just text bc the drawings aren't coming out how I like.

Younger kids (2-7):

Both girls and boys have long hair because protects them from the sun without trying to get them to keep hats or hoods on since kids can be difficult about the required amount of clothes, let alone additional stuff. It can also be hard to find children's sized clothes, so many guardians don't bother with "unnecessary" items. Hair is usually kept long enough to tie out of their face because kids also make lots of messes, but sometimes hair will be a bit shorter (usually for boys).

Younger siblings will rarely have anything that isn't a hand-me-down, so if you have an older sibling of the opposite gender then you're probably going to be dressing like the opposite gender for most of your childhood. This is rarely an issue since gender doesn't usually have the same relevance as it does in the real world.

Long skirts are common regardless of gender because they keep the legs covered to protect from sunburn. Also, you can grow significantly before an ankle-length skirt becomes too short, unlike pants where you just have to get new ones when you outgrow them. When skirts get short enough to start exposing a lot of skin, extra fabric can be sewn on, or leggings can be worn underneath. Wraparound skirts are preferred because you don't have to adjust the waist at all when the kid grows, so you don't have to worry about buying/making new clothes all the time. However, other types of skirts work just as well.

A lot of younger kids get homemade shoes. They don't need to be great quality, they just need to keep the kid from burning their feet. Once a kid is old enough to begin helping with the family business (if there is one), go on trips with their guardians, etc. they get real shoes since it becomes more important once they're working or away from home for longer periods.

Then older kids (8-12):

At this age kids are old enough to want to have more freedom of expression so styles vary a bit more.

Since they're mostly still wearing kids sized clothes which are harder to find in the Zones and outgrowing things quickly, hair is still usually kept long to protect them from the sun in place of a hat or a hood that would either be too big or outgrown too quickly to justify buying it. However, sometimes they'll get their hair cut short, especially boys. Regardless of length, there's more variations in hairstyles, since it's a form of expression that doesn't cost any money.

Skirts often come above the knees in the front for more mobility/range of motion. Kids this age are old enough to help with work or chores, so it's easier if they don't have to worry about the restrictions long skirts can bring. At this age skirts are less about practicality. Long skirts are seen as a more childish style as the main point of them is to let kids grow without needing to buy tons of new clothes all the time, and skirts of any length can be impractical. Some guardians don't see the point of the skirt if the kid is just going to be wearing pants underneath anyway and the kid transitions into just wearing pants. For those who do keep wearing it, it makes their ages and allegiances clear. Since "adulthood" is pretty much "whenever you look like an adult" or "whenever you can do the same work as an adult" it makes it clear that this is a child, and that they're not a killjoy (since some killjoys can be this young).

Again, kids this age usually aren't working actual jobs yet, so sandals are more common than closed-toe shoes that might be required for a more dangerous job. Sandals are preferred over closed-toe shoes since they take less supplies to make so they're cheaper. These sandals might be homemade or might be made more professionally.

Younger teenagers (13-15):

This is the age where you'll see a lot of actual variation in style. First short haircuts are common at this age. Some kids might have a job, so hair length is usually depending on the job they have instead of gender. A job where they're often inside or where long hair would get in the way? Short haircut. A job where they're often outside? Long hair. Of course, some people will still pick a style they like over practicality, but looks over practicality is a very killjoy-esque mentality that most of the desert does not follow.

Outfits vary a lot, again based on what's practical for work, but it's common for their clothes to be a bit oversized, since they're usually still on the smaller end even if they are wearing adult sizes by now.

Some kids still wear skirts to indicate their age if their guardians feel that they're not ready to be seen as an adult, but many wear pants only.

Most kids have close-toed shoes now, but again they might be a bit too big. Rags can be stuffed in the toes until they fit properly.

Older teenagers (16-19):

Can pretty much look like anything! Just like for younger teenagers, haircuts and forms of dress are more specific to what you're doing, since most people have some sort of job at this age. Skirts are not worn anymore.

Jobs often work like trades, where you learn to do something and make that your career, instead of switching between them a lot. A lot of jobs are making necessities like clothes, candles, and food, or services like doctors/nurses, messengers, etc. Sometimes certain professions go together, like gunsmiths (who can make or fix guns) will work with artists for killjoys or anyone who'd rather have someone else paint their raygun for them. Markets are a great place to sell their wares so a lot of vendors there are going to be people like this.

If you're interested in other types of people in the Zones/time periods and how they dress send me an ask or something bc worldbuilding my beloved <3

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 3. MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO

A/N: I want to attempt to make this a bit lighter but with the way the bear is set up? Happiness is a process. 🥂 Also this takes place BEFORE 7 fishes? Maybe a year or two prior, so thats probably six or seven years ago from now? The timeline isn’t overly important with this show so whatever your brain feels is cool with me! Also decided to do this in headcanon/note form this time around because things are definitely about to get hectic for me. Merry Christmas Eve or Happy Holidays to you all! 🫶🏽 hope its filled with nothing but greatness + all things that are lovely and not chaos.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: SCENARIO — 4.) Decorating the tree + DIALOGUE — 2.) “You know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow.”

<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.

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Michael Berzatto always loved cold weather and sure his birthday happened to always fall on a brutal cold day… he always put more effort into everyone else’s.

It’s something he’s always done and maybe it had to do with his childhood where most birthdays his own parents forgot about it, treating it as any other day because that’s simply how they viewed their own and wouldn’t even get him a card at least.

He grew up fast and pushed those terrible feelings as far down as they could go and focused on caring for everyone else.

Lucky for him, he had his younger siblings that always managed to put a smile on his face, showing him that they wouldn’t ever forget

and a shit eating grin would also appear thanks to his best friend Richie who always showed up with packs of beer and encouragement to head out to a strip joint but somehow Tiffany always figured out that plan!

a gallon of warmth poured into his chest when you would call him at midnight or the break of dawn, wanting to be the first to send him well wishes for another year.

You were always something special to Michael.

Which is why on the morning of November 15th, he showed up to your place, just to tell you later that you were going tree hunting while he went down to Chicagoland to get the rest of his hours in.

He heard how bummed out you were about your boyfriend not being in town (yet again) to go get a tree for the place you moved into back in July.

Michael didn’t particularly hate the guy but he also felt like he didnt care enough as much as he should with someone like you.

He was always elsewhere and Michael was just praying that he didn’t ask you to marry him and call it selfish but he didn’t see a glimmer in your eyes when you looked at the guy.

Michael felt like you two were just dating out of convenience—until you both found better, which YOU would but you didn’t seem to see that.

Which of course sparked arguments and the guy walked in on that argument, demanding to know what was going on and you didn’t want to escalate the situation so you sent a warning glance for Michael not to take it there.

He never listened.

A ban from the house was laughable to Michael because who tf did this guy think he was to tell him to stay away from his best friend’s house? He maybe “the man,” of the house but he wasn’t man enough to love you. You have to show you care in a relationship and put in the work and this guy wasn’t it. You were an after thought and that pissed Michael off.

and he didn’t give a shit if the guy was 6’6 and built like a linebacker, it was fair game in mike’s eyes! Michael would say what he felt and he was super protective over you—which you appreciated but not in that moment.

Before hands could ever go flying and out of the respect he has for you, he said his peace and left the home—since thats what you wanted…with the both of you not speaking for a week—which was painful.

And also painful to Richie’s ears because Mikey wouldn’t shut up about it!

You as a topic? Was never on the low.

“Are you finally gonna admit to the audience that you’re sweet on them, Mikey Boy!?” The amusement was clear in Richie’s piercing blues and Michael was tempted to smack it right off.

“Shut your mouth and get back to work, ya bastard!”

Michael knew the guy talked shit about him behind his back but regardless Michael was in your life WAAAY before this guy was even a factor! He wasn’t going anywhere,, unless you told him to but he hoped that never happened.

Your boyfriend didn’t like how you kept Michael around but he knew how to put on a mask too, being a FBI agent and all that, which means he was hardly around anyway so…that gave Michael more time with you in the end, which definitely made your boyfriend more irritated when he bothered to check in from work!

Michael found it funny that your boyfriend thought he was doing something by flying back to Indiana with you to spend (the controversial holiday) thanksgiving with your dad, step-mother, and half-siblings just to disappear again into his work as soon as the both of you returned to chicago.

While he was off on a case, Michael was there taking on the failed promises, which included: tree shopping.

Having a hybrid schedule, working as a publisher and just starting a meeting with a client, you were caught off guard the morning Michael greeted you on your front steps on HIS birthday.

He was all grins and barely in the appropriate wear for the approaching winter but fr! a hoe never gets cold you know? “You asked what i feel like doing for my birthday, right sweetheart? Spending it with you doll face and gettin’ us a tree, how’s that sound?”

You can can barely get any words out due to being on a call but a sweet smile that actually matched your eyes was enough confirmation—although it was on the tip of your tongue to argue, Michael took that to his advantage that you couldn’t in that moment.

Which didn’t mean you wouldn’t hammer him with texts a little later—but Michael sucked at texting so your attempts would probably go unseen anyway.

It was around six, you just got off thirty minutes ago and went to freshen up, ready to text Michael when he’s already at your door, keys in hand, shining teeth of a smile, your favorite sandwich in hand: a wrapped Porchetta, chicken parm, or a caprese sandwich (if you don’t eat meat) ready for you to eat on the go, since the farm closes at eight-thirty and the drives about thirty to forty-five minutes depending on the traffic…

Michael’s got terrible road rage and hates traffic but you’re not the best driver when the sky falls so you have no choice this evening but…he’s at ease with you on the passenger side.

He’s telling you entertaining stories as you eat and when you’re done, he’s asking for your review—although it’s your favorite sandwich so of course it’s going to be highly rated! but he just likes to hear you talk about the things you enjoy

he’s interested in your day since your work days are completely different and he’s not afraid to give his opinions if the author you’re working with sounds like an asshole.

Shopping with you can sometimes take forever but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. If you’re looking for the perfect tree, even if it’s ugly as hell, you’re gonna get the damn tree.

He’s used to artificial trees because the real one his family had after he just turned fifteen, his ma threw a lit cigarette at once, unbeknownst to the rest of the berzatto family, almost burning it to a crisp as she whipped around to yell at a seven year old Sugar about something, so his dad swore off “spending his hard earned money for Donna to ruin,” leaving Michael to stop looking forward to Christmas trees

Yet he was here on his birthday with you, happy to be here and help you find whatever you needed.

“What about that one?” You pointed at what would probably be the eighth one, if Michael thought to keep count.

He can’t help it—

He glances over his shoulders and scowls, “looks like uncle Lee, fucking balding in the middle.”

“Michael!”

“Wha? Am I wrong?! I’m just sayin, sweetheart…if you love that one, I’ll like it.” Michael raised his hands in surrender while you huffed, rolled your eyes and spun on your flats, diving in between a row of fully stocked trees.

Eventually you find a wide white spruce tree that the both you felt strongly about to bring back home

and the man is willing to throw his back out for you, getting it up your steep front steps, not allowing you to help him one bit, which is frustrating for you ofc.

Once positioned in your living room, just the way you want it, Michael wipes the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine. Just gonna get some air, then when I get back we’ll discuss when you want to decorate it, yeah?”

You shake your head at Michael while he heads back to the front of the house through the screened in entrance before entering November’s air.

When he’s taking longer than expected, you go hunting for him just to flail around on some black ice after stepping down from the last step but manage to somewhat catch yourself on the railing.

Thankful for a bruise rather than a broken tailbone, you curse to yourself as the throbbing pain shoots down your femur.

And surely, Michael fucking berzatto appears from the shadows to assist you, “hey! whatcha doin’ down there?”

“I slipped on some stupid black ice…where were you?”

“You sure it wasn’t the yellow snow?”

“The what?” You exasperate as Michael guides you to your feet.

Michael points at the spot to the right of your front lawn and you scowl as he says, “you know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow!”

He laughs but stops short as you cut your eyes at him, “did you come out here to piss on my lawn when there’s two bathroom’s inside?”

Michael scoffs, “don’t go pointin’ fingers at me because you busted your ass. That ain’t my fault babe and you know I wouldn’t do that! I told you that was Richie’s drunk ass.”

Sighing you rub at your sore thigh, “I still owe him a kick in the ass for that.”

“Yeah you do,” Michael smirks as the both of you move to head back inside, “despite that, it was good house warming.”

You nod as you’re back inside the warmth of your new home and rest against the couch while Michael’s back to analyzing the tree you picked. “Hey, I’ve got you something.”

Michael shakes his head although a twitch of a grin is there,“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Shush,” you held up your hand at the man who raised his brows at you, “it’s nothing crazy but it’s in the fridge.”

He sighs at you but goes to your bright yellow kitchen nonetheless. Michael always gets caught up standing in your kitchen, just imagining all the meals he could get up to in here since it seems so bright and welcoming yet empty.

You were more of a breakfast person which is why he was always down to go to diners because of you, whereas he was more a lunch person because of his old man, hence why Chicagoland was a deli spot but Michael was okay with shifting his ways for you.

When he opens your fridge, he scans through it, easily picking up on what items belongs to your macho boyfriend and scoffs to himself before spotting a medium sized box tucked in the back of the fridge.

“Did you find it, Mikey?” You call out to your friend who latches onto the box, kneeing the fridge closed before making his way back into the living room.

He plops down on the couch next to you, eyeing you while you smile over at him patiently waiting.

“Here goes nothing,” Michael quietly says before pulling the top back to eye the mold of the zuccotto, “…you fucking didn’t.”

“I did,” you nod before explaining, “I thought about making one but I also didn’t want to disappoint you and then I remembered you’ve been wanting to try that bakery that’s here on my side of town, so I made a call and hope you like it.”

Michael swallows the lump in his throat at the gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone’s got him a cake but this wasn’t just some simple task. This was important because this means you listened.

You listened to how he told you that his nonna used to call him, “pumpkin bear,” because he was chunky and the shade of a Orange left in the sunlight fresh out the womb and that she made the best zuccotto he’s ever had and never tried anyone else’s since she’s passed.

Not even his ma could touch his nonna’s but he would never tell the woman that!

“The bakery’s a combined Italian-French place which they don’t really advertise until you’re actually inside but the little elderly lady who made it was the cutest thing and I thought you’d probably trust her.”

“I wanna kiss you on the mouth, you’re so good to me, you have no idea!” Michael pointed at you, voice thick with emotion.

This may seem small to any other but it really meant a lot and you could sense that as Michael gripped your hand to squeeze and press kisses to. “Happy birthday, Mikey.” You whisper.

Michael groans as he pinched the corners of his wet eyes for a moment, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you back,” you smile, “now can we try!?”

“Hell yeah we can but I get first bite this time.”

“I guess…it is your birthday after all.” You wink.

The taste test was so worth it, to the point Michael made it his mission to go meet the elderly woman down at her bakery during one of his breaks from the restaurant.

He shared kind words and got to know Giuseppina or “Josy,” up until the point they actually became friendly with Josy sending her husband Charles over to try what Chicagoland had to offer as well.

He had you to thank for that, reminding him of the good in his life, even what once was.

It isnt until the first week of December when Michael comes around again to decorate your tree.

“What the hell happened?” Michael quizzes you when he spots you with a brace taking up a huge portion of your thigh.

Guess that makes sense why you took so long to get the door.

You sigh, “hello to you too, Mike. Care to come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi.” Michael greets, gripping your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping into the too warm house.

You tell him you slipped again and that resulted into a bruised bone, which is less severe than a fracture and something you can heal at home with ice, and meds you wouldn’t be taking—so you’re just taking it easy.

“Why hasn’t inspector gadget put down any salt yet?” Michael commented as he shoved his thin jacket into the small closet tucked in the corner of the living room.

You have your oddly placed fireplace lit and boxes everywhere to dig through.

Sighing you plop back on the couch, “He’s busy but he brought up the decorations from the basement and I can do the salt myself.”

“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you?”

“…it’s cold.”

Michael fans his hands at you, “newsflash babe, we’re in Chicago not Kansas or wherever the hell he’s from and after we’re done tackling this tree, I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mikey—

“Did you hear what I said?”

The look he sent you with his dark eyes made you mold your lips together and cross your arms before you pushed off the couch to head over to a few of the boxes.

Michael does the honors of playing some Motown Christmas music on your tv to fill the tension, but he wouldn’t apologize for looking out for you.

The bare minimum when it comes to your boyfriend doesn’t impress him, not one bit and although you didn’t like and told Michael that you didn’t like him dragging your man, you couldn’t change Michael’s mind about him at all!

He was gonna hurt you and Michael was waiting for the asshole to just rip the band aid off or when you woke up and dumped him yourself.

Michael knew you had it in you and knew you deserved better than to just settle for what looks good on paper.

The smooth deep growl of Marvin Gaye singing, “I want to come home for Christmas,” (I heavily stand on the fact that Marvin Gaye is one of Michael’s favorite singers!) filled your home as the both of you went through the boxes, picking out your decor that brought all sorts of feelings to your frame.

You reminisced about what your life was and if your dad still had any of your old ornaments you made as a child, knowing your mother would have and what your life could be as you took your side of the tree, placing ornaments up as Michael hummed to the music.

The both of you worked in silence which wasn’t the usual although Michael was much louder than you, being quiet wasn’t the norm of your friendship.

And it wasn’t because of what Michael said to you, you weren’t that sensitive—it was you getting in your head about the holidays.

About your dad, step-mom, and siblings deciding not to speed Christmas with you like originally planned because they were going on a cruise and the possibility of your boyfriend traveling to freaking Europe around that time for work made you think about the upcoming loneliness

Yes you had another friend outside of Michael but it was just this odd feeling that you didn’t particularly want to define or gave much thought about until now…

“Hey, stop thinkin’ so hard and just be here with me, huh? Your favorite person on the planet.” Michael calls over the music, after catching you staring up at the length of the tree with one ornament still in your hand.

When your eyes meet his and that famous grin stretched over his features, you roll your eyes once you realized what he said, bringing you back into the spirit and moved around the living room in search of your stool.

Michael holds the stool until your comfortably on it before moving one hand to the small of your back to keep you stable.

When you glance back at him you state, “how do you know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re my favorite person when there’s a billion people in this place?”

“Ah, It’s all over your face! You know how they say heart on your sleeve? Well in your case, it’s on your face.” Michael comments as he holds your stare before you slowly get down to be face to face with him, “and don’t you worry, you’re mine too.” 🥹🥹🥹

You pat his jaw, “damn straight, baby. And don’t you forget it.”

“Never will,” Michael chuckles, “do I get to do the honors of putting up the star?”

You plop down on the couch, digging through what’s left in the box you were working on, “we don’t have a star.”

“…Run that by me again?” Michael turns to you.

You nod, “we wanted to do something…less traditional and it was between either a bow or what he went for…a stag.”

Michael eyes the topper and scowls as he reaches for the cream deer head, “im gonna keep my mouth shut on this one.”

“Thank you.”

“welcome.”

after awhile, Michael finds his way collapsed next to you eyeing the tree as the both of you sip at some cranberry punch you made the other day, eyeing some rosemary you had floating through it.

“It actually turned out pretty, no?” You ask, shoulder to shoulder with the bearded man.

Michael sips from the mason jar and savors the earthy tangy flavor, “best lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen!”

Resting your head against Michael’s shoulder you take in the scenery, feeling a little less alone as Michael’s lips peck your brow, reminding you that it’s best to hold onto what you have, rather than what you don’t. 

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read my final ~5 days of Xmas~ anthology prompt here.

[thedevilrisen]

Eloisa Elowyn Marino

"If there was anyway I could have prevented this, I would have."

Elosia Marino -

Elosia was born on the 17th of April, 2003. 7 years after her brothers, John Marino and Paul Marino. The three siblings were always connected at the hip, but had a normal sibling rivalry where they play fought and if one person said left the other said right. When Eloisa was born her parents quickly put her into ice hockey like they did her older brothers. Both boy's were enamoured with her when she was born but she did drift closer to John as they both pursued hockey.

Facts and Information for Elosia -

During her teen years, Elosia spent a lot of summers dragging her family and friends to Cape Cod where she went surfing a lot. It quickly became her other sport outside of hockey and she even participated in minor competitions before she got a half scholarship to Boston University for her hockey.

While at BU aside from playing hockey she did a degree in sports medicine and modern history, both keen subjects for her. She alway's loved biology and history was something she got into as she got older, enjoying historical novels and traveling with her family and friends and stopping at little quaint towns with rich history.

One of Elosia's favourite things to do during university was find, quaint little cafe's to study at! She loves baking and cooking and this stemmed from doing it with her auntie when she was younger. She worked in a bakery later on in her teen years, expressing her love for baking and it very quickly became one of her favourite hobbies outside of hockey.

Elosia always had an eclectic selection of music she listen to growing up, trying multiple instruments before settling on the violin and playing in her school orchestra before playing recreationally when she got to university.

During the time she played for BU she grew quite close with Macklin Celebrini, the two became very close friends and confidents. They spent multiple nights in each others dorm, studying and watching movies or gossipping about crushes and eventually which team they might go to when they get drafted.

When Elosia was drafted she went to the Minesota Wild, draft pick #13.

Elosia met Jack Hughes through her brother when he played for New Jersey, they became really great friends and spent a lot of time together before beginning to date later on.

Asks about Elosia are very welcome! I'd love to hear what you have say about her and Jack, John and Macklin!

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Ladies Whistledown - chapter seven

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington Rating: T Chapter: 7 / ? Word Count: 2492

read on tumblr: one | two | three | four | five | six

They left Mayfair for Aubrey Hall like they always did, and Eloise was glad of the change, like she always was. The actual getting out of town was exceedingly tiresome, however, but at least she had not been made to share a carriage with Gregory and Hyacinth, as she had in past years. That, if nothing else, was a clear advantage to being an “out” young lady at last. She was “Miss Bridgerton” to society now, no longer “Miss Eloise,” and if Miss Bridgerton said she preferred the company of her elder brothers while traveling, then that was what she would get—particularly after Hyacinth requested a carriage without Eloise, who would “spoil the journey with her constant whinging.” Eloise resented this allegation, but forgot all about it once she was ensconced with Colin and Benedict, their mother and younger siblings up ahead in the other carriage.

As they rolled along, she looked out the window and thought of how she would have liked to put down some of her thoughts about this whole Lady Whistledown business, but it was impossible. It was also highly inconvenient to write in a carriage, though Colin was attempting it. Whatever he was writing appeared rather sloppily put down, yet he seemed to have a keen sense of when to stop writing so that the nib did not go skipping across the page. Eloise craned her neck to see a bit more and Colin looked up in alarm.

“Are you reading my journal, Eloise?” he demanded, outraged.

A laugh spluttered from Benedict, who had been resting his head back in repose with his eyes shut (a consequence of the early start they had made). Evidently not asleep quite yet.

“Of course I was not!” she exclaimed. If her brother was permitted his outrage, she should be allowed to feel the affront.

“You were!”

“I was not! Benedict, tell Colin I would not read his ridiculous journal. I have brought other things to read.” She leaned towards Colin with a sneer as she clarified, “Things of quality.”

“And here I was thinking I had selected the carriage without the children,” Benedict remarked with amusement.

Eloise scoffed and sank back into her seat with her arms crossed. Colin eyed her still, the page upon which he had been writing tilted distinctly away from her. The three of them sat in silence for several minutes, none engaged in any activity, all pretending that staring out the carriage windows was stimulation enough. Eloise sighed. She wished Anthony and Kate—how delightful to now be able to call her sister “Kate”! And “sister”!—were not traveling separately. Conversing with Kate would have made the journey most pleasant.

“What are you writing about?” Eloise ventured presently.

“Things which are none of your concern,” Colin said.

Eloise huffed at his snappish response, then made a grab for the journal out of spite, but Colin snatched it away in time, holding it above his head.

“I will be leaving for the continent soon and you will wish you had treated me with greater kindness!” he lectured.

“I am only taking an interest!”

“I am uninterested in your interest.” They stewed for a few moments while Benedict looked on with a grin. Finally, in a calmer tone, Colin said, “They are merely observations.”

“What of?”

“The closing of the season. The sensation of returning to Aubrey Hall.” Colin shifted in his seat, appearing thoughtful. “It is like… returning to the past, each time. No matter the number of years that go by, I always… I expect…”

“You expect to find Father waiting for us there,” Benedict supplied.

Colin nodded once and cleared his throat, allowing neither of his siblings to meet his gaze. Eloise experienced a sudden tightness around her eyes.

“I feel it too,” Benedict said.

“I do as well,” Eloise offered. Colin glanced up at her and this, finally, felt like a truce.

“There in the country,” Colin continued, “where we spent many a happy summer.”

“Yes,” Benedict said emphatically, transparently inviting them towards cheerfulness.

“Penelope will be coming to stay,” Eloise said.

Her eldest brother looked at her with narrowed eyes.

“I thought the two of you…” Eloise made a face that begged discretion and Benedict awkwardly cleared his throat. “Never mind.”

But Colin was too observant; all his bloody writing had trained him too well.

“What?” he wondered eagerly. Eloise and Benedict engaged in a silent conversation, but Colin would not abide it. “Answer me, one of you!”

Though Benedict placed a hand over his mouth, it was still possible for Eloise to observe the smile he hid behind it. He pointed at her to suggest she was the one who ought to explain. She made a noise of annoyance.

“Come, Eloise,” Colin requested laughingly. “I have willingly shared the content of my writing with you. This is your opportunity to return the favour.”

“Oh, willingly, was it?” she checked, voice laden with sarcasm. “That I do not recall.”

“Please, tell me about Penelope. She is my friend as well.”

“And yet you did not notice when we went several days without speaking to one another. Tell me, have you spent much time with her since your queasy morning following the Featherington Ball?”

“Well, no, but I intend to now that I hear she is to stay with us.”

“She is staying with us as my guest.”

“She is staying at our estate,” Colin countered.

“Yes! Our, not your.”

“Enough!” Benedict cut in, hands raised to silence them. “This was amusing enough at first, but it has become maddening, and I must ask you both to cease. Why on earth are you bickering over Penelope as though she is a favourite toy?”

“Penelope and I have important matters to discuss,” Eloise replied snootily, turning her face to the window. “And before either of you ask, they are none of your concern.”

“Whatever have you dragged poor Pen into this time?” Colin mused.

Eloise glanced over at him again.

“I am afraid you have that entirely backward,” she said smugly.

“Regardless, I am glad for you, Eloise. This break from Penelope… well, we would all have suffered for it. Her company is too good to lose, if you can help it.”

“That is quite an admiring speech.”

“I do admire Pen. I believe what I admire most of all is her ability to make you leave your bedchamber and join the rest of us social creatures out here in the world,” Colin teased.

“I learn more about society from books than you seem to in months on the continent.”

“Perhaps you might make Colin a recommendation,” Benedict said, swiftly cutting in before they could resume squabbling. “Something to read while away on his travels?”

“That would be… useful,” Colin allowed.

“Very well,” Eloise agreed lightly. She picked up her novel from her lap at last. “Now, if the pair of you would be so good as to cease your chatter, I should like to read in peace.”

Her brothers erupted in insulted exclamations as she opened to the page at which she had left off.

—

As a rule, it was considered polite to allow a family time to settle into their country seat before showing up and expecting to be dined and amused. Penelope, however, was a special case, and so when she arrived just two days after the Bridgertons had themselves, it was to nobody’s inconvenience, the very opposite of an imposition.

Lady Featherington and Prudence had stopped as well, but only to take tea and deposit Penelope. Eloise had gritted her teeth behind her smile as Penelope’s mama lectured her in honeyed tones (though a lecture it unmistakably was) to be a good girl during her stay at Aubrey Hall. She spoke to her daughter as though Penelope were years younger, and an uncontrollable menace rather than the demure young lady the Bridgertons knew. Once they were away, Eloise said nothing of this treatment to Penelope. They would not dwell on it—they would not even think on it—for the duration of Penelope’s visit.

It was not as though her home were dull without Penelope. There were many books to read, and space in which to read them—indoors, out of doors, so many rooms and seats and crannies and places in the sun half-concealed by manicured hedges where none of Eloise’s siblings would bother her. And there were games to play, so many games; the chance to be oneself, crowing in victory in the fresh air without worry of what the Mayfair neighbours would say, was sweet. When Eloise did feel social, she might poke around and find Francesca seated at the pianoforte, dancing her fingers up and down the keys, or peer over Benedict’s shoulder as he practiced portraits by sketching Gregory—then a bowl of fruit when Gregory would not sit still. This was all to say that the amusements in the country were manifold, and yet Eloise clung gratefully to Penelope from the moment she arrived in their midst, declaring she had saved her, declaring summer without her would have felt incomplete.

“And how was your journey from Mayfair?” Penelope asked, as they strolled arm in arm about the grounds.

Eloise reached out and picked a petal from a late-blooming flower.

“Trying. The smaller the space in which one is confined with them, the more irritating are the foibles of one’s brothers.”

“Colin and Benedict?” Penelope guessed.

“The very same.” Eloise swung her arm, allowing the petal to flutter to the lawn. “Colin is so maddeningly close about whatever he is writing in that journal, and in a way, I wish I could tell him what we are about.”

Penelope gripped her arm harder.

“Eloise, you did not!” She sounded alarmed, so Eloise quickly shook her head.

“Of course I did not. It is only that I think he might understand, given his own writing. His own secrecy, for that matter.”

“It is alright to be a private person,” Penelope observed. “Indeed, I have much respect for Colin’s desire for privacy after I was the one who—”

Eloise hushed her.

“I do not mention him to make you feel guilty,” she promised. “If it did come out—”

“It must not.”

“But if it did, I believe Colin is quite disposed to take your side.”

Penelope drew back.

“Why do you say that?” she inquired.

“Something he said in the carriage,” Eloise replied vaguely. She glanced at Penelope’s face and deigned to elaborate. “I believe he rather admires you.”

Penelope laughed.

“Colin?” she asked incredulously, hand pressed to her breast as though to waylay further laughter. “I can assure you, he does not.”

Eloise turned to her fully, frowning.

“You do sound very certain. Has my brother said something terribly stupid?”

She was nearly laughing herself at the thought. She could not imagine Colin telling Penelope he did not like her anymore than she could imagine him proclaiming that he did, that he liked her very much, that he desired, at last, to win the tug o’ war (against Eloise) for Penelope’s attention. Eloise was chilled by the sudden thought that, on a whim and possessed of some premature notion that he was ready to be taken seriously as a man, Colin could decide to propose to Penelope. She waited stiffly for Penelope to say something.

“Not… to me,” Penelope cautiously revealed.

“Pen.” Eloise touched her friend’s shoulder.

Penelope attempted to turn her complete attention to the flowers, stepping closer to the bed that stretched away from where they had stopped.

“Would it be better if I asked him?”

Eloise had not meant the question as a threat, but Penelope flinched and shook her head. After a moment, Eloise watched her force a smile.

“I doubt he even recalls the moment.”

Eloise crossed her arms to show that she would not be put off, that she would be told, that she would know. Good heavens, they were all about to spend weeks together. It would be awfully awkward—or worse—for her best friend and brother to try to avoid one another all that time. Or, if Colin had forgotten his offence, whatever it had been, for him to go bumbling forward in friendship, failing to realize Pen was quite hurt. Eloise would not sit by and feel nebulously defensive of Penelope all that time.

At last, Penelope recognized Eloise’s stubbornness and gave in.

“I overheard Colin speaking with a few other men, Lord Fife among them. He… he expressed his horror at the idea of courting me.”

“Colin said this?”

“He spoke in no uncertain terms, El,” Penelope said, swift and firm. “And it is fine.” She nodded toughly. “I promise that it is. Only I wish he had merely thought it and not said it aloud.”

“When was this?” Eloise demanded, though her words came out as a whisp in the wake of this appalling surprise.

“The night of the ball. The Featherington Ball.”

Eloise felt her face transformed by anger. She grabbed at her skirt, yanking it around as she turned, prepared to make for the house. She would wrench her brother from whatever pursuit he was currently engaged in and she would make him—

But Penelope had said one word: “Don’t.”

Eloise spun towards her.

“Whyever not?”

“The only difference it will make,” Penelope argued, “will be for Colin to issue me an uncomfortable apology. I would prefer he never knew I had overheard. There is nothing to be gained.”

“But next season—”

“I will concern myself with what suitors think of me next season when we reach next season,” Penelope said with a weak smile. “At the moment, their indifference is no more than what I am used to.”

“The whole lot of them are fools. You are brilliant. And,” Eloise reflected, taking Penelope’s arm in hers once more, “much kinder than they deserve. Had I been Lady Whistledown all this time, I fear I would not have been able to resist many petty comments about the people who irked me most. You are a credit to yourself, Pen, honestly.”

Penelope said only, “You are a good friend,” and they resumed their walk.

A while later, something occurred to Eloise. She looked shrewdly at her friend.

“You do not want Colin to court you, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “I have only just got you back. I am not yet ready to give you up.”

“Would you though?”

“Give you up?”

Penelope nodded.

“Would you ask me to?” Eloise retorted.

Penelope’s expression warmed and softened, and her hand slipped from the crook of Eloise’s arm down to entwine their fingers. And then they were off into the long grass that grew by the woods, smelling hot and sweet under the sun and the brush of their skirts, then into the woods themselves, where they made too much noise and startled the birds into flight.

[not-5-rats]

I love being goth in Scotland /sarc (these people are so mean, like bro let me be creative-)

Bug Question/Scenario times <33333

1) Modern! AU

Be honest, ever taken an 'Am I Gay?' quiz? (Also what's ur Bugs sexuality/gender identity? I got a stupid doodle idea (it'll make sense when I show y'all))

2) Uh oh, Bodie worked hard and cooked your Bug a meal without knowing they really dislike one of the ingredients! Does your Bug tell him or just suffer through it?

3) Are they good at keeping track of their possessions or do they often lose things?

4) Bloodmoon Swap! AU

How do they hunt/kill people? What's their strategy?

5) Scenario #1 (this shit is super long I'm sorry bros)

Bug had been looking for Chester round the house for like 15 minutes, yet they couldn't find him. That was until they saw him coming out of the room his younger sisters were staying in.

He was clearly exhausted, his pasture was slouched, his eyes half-closed...he looked as though he was about to fall asleep right there. They asked why he looked like shit, he chuckled

"Daisy's sick, she couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, just kept throwing up- been watching her since like 9 last night and only now has she gone for a nap"

He dragged himself through to the living room then threw himself onto the floor beside the couch. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the couch as he sighed out of relief, finally free for a couple of minutes. Bug went and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

"...do you think I'm an alright guardian?"

Bug looked at him, clearly a bit confused by his question. They asked him to elaborate

"Y'know to Daisy and Fran. Out of all my siblings I'm the one least...suited to taking care of kids. Felix is social, caring, always got the energy to play with them, Audrey is organised, knows how to manage kids, can afford to get them the toys and shit they need! Whilst I...I'm just a grump, a sad asshole, who barely ever has any energy"

He pressed his face into his hand, rubbing his forehead as he went on

"They deserve somebody who's gonna be more involved in their life...more than I can give them. But there's no other fucking choice. Mum and Dad ain't in the equation anymore, Felix doesn't have the space for them and Audrey is so busy...they have nowhere else to go...but I'm not fit to be a parent, I'm not fit to take care of them, they need so much more. I just want them to be happy, but I don't think they are happy"

He let his head fall back on the edge of the couch, he didn't look upset, he just seemed blank. Dead even. The only hint of emotion they could see on his face was a shimmer of anger in his eyes..and that anger was towards himself.

What does bug do?

6) Do they enjoy celebrating their birthday?

7) Scenario #2 (ik I'm talking alot rn! It's the holidays I have nothing else to do rn lol)

Most of the Bugs had went out to town in order to collect some new resources, but Chester has stayed back to take care of the baby bugs. Bug had overslept that morning so by the time they woke up the Bugs were already gone...so they bad to stay behind with Chez and the little ones.

Bug and Chez had been talking bout how everything had been going the past few weeks, how the recent town visits had gone, Chez made some sort of joke which resulted in Bug giving him a rough flick to the forehead, this made him chuckle.

Suddenly Chez had to quickly run off as one of the young ones had gotten themself stuck in the top branches of a tree

As soon as he was gone though Fran appeared in his place, an unusual smile creeping on her face as she started quickly signing to Bug

'you know he really cares about you, he isn't very good at showing it but he really cares about all of you'

Bug smiled and questioned Fran on how she was so sure that he cared, she giggled before responding

'cause if he didn't he would've shut down completely when you poked him, he doesn't like people being anywhere near him let alone touch him at all'

Fran kept smiling as she looked over at her older brother, struggling immensely to get the little kid out of the tree. (Like comically on his tippee toes, arms stretched right up as the kid clung to the branches.)

Bug thought about all the times Chez had hugged them, not even just them, all the Bugs! He was always offering a hug, patting them on the back, poking them, etc...and all of it was just a big show of how much he trusted/ cared abt them

*hands the mic to you* here ya go

☆---------------☆

Tags -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @reefhastoomanyaccs

[lunar-rcp]

Hi mate! If it's not to much I'd like to hear some of your Jin head cannons if you have any

(I'm just asking different users out of interest)

𓏲 ₊ ๑ ꒰ Jin headcanons !! ꒱ 🔧ꪆ

Tumblr deleted this post like 3 times dear LORD, but here you go!

★ Jin was diagnosed with anger issues at the age of 12. Now that she's older, she manages them a lot better than when she was younger. However, she still has her moments.

★ Jin is a collector, and not just for toys or figures! She also loves to collect marbles, rocks, seashells and what not! She loves having a collection of her own, and proudly shows off a shelf of collections in the rescue center.

★ Jin was first viewed as the 'Weirdo' of the town. People found her inventions weird. But when the rct came along and supported her through the inventions, she felt hope she can make anything, even if it fails most of the time.

★ Jin is a coffee addict. Before she met the rescue team, she had about 6-7 cups a day. However, after a long lecture from Amber she had sized down to 1 cup a day.

★ Speaking of her coffee addiction.. You think Roy had a terrible sleeping schedule? Nope! Jin wins that throne. Because of the amounr of coffee she has, she has a hard time sleeping. So much so that the team needs to drag her to bed to get her to sleep.

★ Jin doesn't have the greatest relationship with her family. They found her 'masculine' since she only ever played with machinery rather with dolls. Because of this, she sees the rct as her family. She truly loves them.

★ Jin owns little hairclips colored after the rescue team. Everytime they're out on a casual trip, she styles her hair with those clips.

★ Jin has a bickering sibling relationship with Helly. Everytime you pass by them, there's a 99% chance of them arguing. Even if they argue a lot, they still love each other and always make up.

★ Roy and Jin have a similiar relationship, although they do bicker less. And if they do, it's mostly about cleaning. The times they do bond is whenever they talk about their love for movies!

★ Poli and Jin are extremely close. You can even call them family. They had both first came up with the idea of a rescue team, and helped eachother find the other members.

★ Amber and Jin, the girls ever! They bicker the least. They love having sleepovers with Sandy and just have girl talk. They also love gossiping about the boys, but it's all light hearted.

★ She has a love for all genres of movies. She sometimes forces the team to watch with her, which creates a great time for bonding. Her favourites are sci-fi and action!

★ She has a side-job as a sub-teacher at the Broomstown school. She usually teaches about machinery, but.. sometimes her own inventions go wrong in class.

[silverior968]

Okay so since a few people were curious, here's what I have lined up for my new version of Anton's headcanon backstory (Long post, CW: mental health issues, elusions to suicidal ideation, death, particularly death of children.

His mother is an Irish Signum Linguist named Siobán, who met her husband, Lian, on a trip to Nanjing, while working as an interpreter between different magical communities. He was an Arborkineticist, and they fell in love through their shared love of botany. They move back to Ireland together and get married, and eventually have 4 kids, the two oldest, twins Iris (Sensitive) and Anton (birthname Aspen), along with two younger daughters Arnica (Vitakinetic) and Ivy (Elemental). This was before the war had properly begun, but fights were already breaking out between the two future factions, and Lian dies in one such altercation. This leaves Siobán alone with her children, at the time aged 7, 7, 4 and 2.

Depressive tendencies run in the family, and Siobán takes the loss very hard. Still, she tries her best to be there for her children, neglecting her own health in the process, which leaves her vulnerable to various diseases, one of which ends up being her slow undoing. She falls ill four years after her husband's death, and dies just under three years later. The children, 14, 14, 11 and 9 are on their own.

Before she died, Iris was well known in their town for being a talented Sensitive, and people would pay her to predict what they should do in regards to their crops and cattle. This unfortunately gets the attention of a certain powerful Mevolent-aligned family of Sorcerers. The year is 1592, but the signs of war are already clear in the air, and both of Iris's parents were Sanctuary-aligned. So they decide to have her taken care of while she's still young and can't do much in the way of fighting. A few of the family's soldiers are sent to take care of it-

A week passes, then another. No sign of the soldiers. A few more men are sent in undercover to find out where they went, and the locals tell them that they did find a few hunters dead in the woods from a wolf attack. Two local children had seen it happen. The townsfolk seem cagey about answering their questions, so the men surmise that it wasn't a wolf attack, but rather a werewolf attack.

Obviously, there's no wolf. The soldiers show up to kill Iris, Anton is with her and ends up summoning the gist out of a mix of fear and anger, promptly passing out afterwards. Gists in canon only seem to be as well known as they are due to Anton being such a high-profile person, so it is my opinion that in the 1590s some random folks in a little town would have had no clue what it was. Werewolves, on the other hand are said to have been more common in the olden days, so it would make sense for the soldiers to assume that one of Iris's siblings was a werewolf. Note that they don't know which one yet.

Iris makes Anton swear he's never gonna do that again (Imagine that comic that's like "Wake up Tails, you fucked up big time!" That's her) and he does pretty well for several years, learning Sigils from a local woman. After Siobán's death the kids fare reasonably on their own, with the three older children doing work with their disciplines. The realization that it's just the four of them now hits all of them hard, though. The community takes turns helping out with them when need be.

Everything goes steady until two years later, when they notice strangers hanging around their property. They try to run through the woods to the nearest neighbour, but get ambushed on the way. An arrow comes at Anton, but Iris pushes him out of the way, taking the hit instead. She dies almost instantly, and as soon as her life has gone from her Anton is forced to go back on his promise to her, releasing the gist and slaughtering the soldiers. It takes Arnica and Iris a few weeks to not cower away from him, as they had never seen the gist before. This leaves three of them: 15, 12, 10.

At this point Anton gives up on Sigils: as much as he hates the gist, he sees what it is capable of, and he knows that it's his one shot at keeping his younger sisters safe. The children grow distrustful of everyone who they don't know. A year later Anton starts working as a stablehand for a local not noble, but slightly more affluent family. This is where the new version of the story diverges from the old one. While working there he meets another boy his age, Rook. He's distrustful of him at first, but they slowly become friends and Anton learns to trust him. Rook tells him that his parents were affluent as well, but he left home to make a life for himself because of different worldviews. Anton tells him of what happened to his parents and sister.

In a previous Anton hc post I also said that Larrikin was the first person that Anton had any romantic feelings towards. I still maintain that he's demiromantic, but I'm going to say that he did have a crush on Rook, but never said anything about it. He's lost so many people he cared about, so he prefers to keep everyone at an arm's length, and he frankly doesn't even know how to go about it. So he just doesn't. One february day, soon after his surge and a little while after his 18th birthday he goes to work and finds that Rook isn't at work, and doesn't show up for work on the entire day for that matter. No-one has seen him. Well, maybe he was just sick. Anton leaves to go home that night only to find the house empty.

He alerts his neighbours, and soon enough a small crowd has gathered to search for his sisters, their footprints leading away from the house and into the woods, accompanied by a third set of larger prints. They end on the ice of the river, where the current is the strongest. Three human tracks lead to where the ice has shattered, one set of fox tracks continue off the other side. Anton jumps in and almost drowns, and it takes two men to keep him from trying to fish them out again after he's dragged out. A local elemental manages to get two bodies out, and they've clearly been dead for a few hours. Anton can't fathom how it could have happened, when Arnica and Ivy didn't trust anyone except a few people in town and him.

That's when he realizes that the shoeprints in the snow match his own exactly. And that there was no third body. And the fox tracks on the other side. And the fact that Rook never told him his discipline. After that it's a very cut and dry case: townsfolk saw Anton working the whole day, so most agree that he couldn't have done it. And Rook is suspiciously still missing.

See, the noble family of Sorcerers responsible for Iris's death finally came up with a strategy other than just throwing soldiers at Anton for him to kill. They send their youngest son out to earn Anton's trust and learn his mannerisms so that he can kill him and then his sisters. Over time he does come to care for Anton, however, and doesn't end up killing him. He explains this to his parents as resource efficiency: without his family Anton wouldn't have anything to fight for, and would thus be unlikely to fight in the war that was so close to breaking out. His parents are none too happy about this. At this point it's less about eliminating the threat of this werewolf and more about getting revenge on these dastardly kids that have cost them several troops worth of soldiers by now. Note that I don't intend Rook to be a sympathetic character who was just manipulated by his parents or anything: he still did something terrible that he could have chosen not to do, and while he did neglect to kill Anton, it was simply because he personally liked him. He still viewed himself as someone who could make decisions on who lives and who dies.

Anton runs away a few days later, never to return. He has no-one left to live for, and in his grief he's become convinced that the reason that he's still alive is so that he can neutralize the people who have brought his family such heartbreak. He spends several decades like this, wandering around. At first he targets the troops that get sent after him. Then when they slowly realize that he's not actually a werewolf but something else entirely due to the fact that he leaves behind the same exact carnage whether it's a full moon or not, they stop doing that. Then he moves on to doing vigilantee justice, wandering around fighting highwaymen and other people who he sees threatening those weak or innocent.

Finally someone who's actually familiar with gists sees him, and word spreads of what he is. The noble family responsible for his family's death suddenly realize that what they've done is accidentally craft a superweapon. Several of their own sons who joined their troops are dead because of him. When the war breaks out he moves on to being a menace to Mevolent's forces without being allied with the Sanctuary yet. He holds them slightly responsible for how little support his mother got after his father's death.

Finally, in the 1620s, his paths cross with Rook's again in a town far away from where he came from. Anton goes in for the kill, but Rook pleads for him to listen. He's a changed man now, he cut off all connections to his family and isn't involved in the war. He has a wife and child now. He apologizes for everything that he did. Anton holds the sword to his throat, standing still for a long time. Finally he lowers it. Rook thanks him, but Anton simply tells him to go.

In the morning they find him dead in the lake. "Go" was not a relieving from responsibility, but rather a head start. No matter how conflicted Anton was, he was unable to let him live after such a long time of only living for retribution. He never imagined that it would be relieving or triumphant, killing Rook. He wasn't sure what he would feel, but he certainly didn't expect grief. Even if he was a terrible person, he was someone he loved once, and after he's dead the weight of his own family being dead finally hits him at full force. He's lost his one reason to live, and he finds himself thinking of Rook's child and how there's now one more child in the world that's going to grow up with such a terrible tragedy on their shoulders.

It's in this state of mind that he finds Saracen, who's 11 years old and has just accidentally killed his older siblings. Neither of them have anything or anyone in this world, and so Anton takes him under his wing, finding a new reason to keep living.

[thedocs-in]

Cecil's Family

So let's start at the beginning, I should also disclaim, that I'm absolutely bullshitting this timeline. As I see Cecil in his late 50's or early 60's so I'm using that as the basis for all of this. In my personal fic I have it that he's 58, so I'm sorta using that as my base line. But feel free to put him at whatever age you want.

And buckle up, this is rather long. I can't condense things to save my fucking life.

Oh, I do also have another young Cecil fic planned that has his dad in it. Sorta basing it off a story my grandpa told me involving his own dad when he was younger. I will also get more headcannons out about Cecil's dad, and other family members if people want them.

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

Cecil was actually named after his grandfather who died in 1944 during WWII.

Now widowed, Susanna ‘Sue’ Stedman was left to look after their two kids, Cecil’s aunt Sarah, and his father Lyle.

Now, Sarah and Lyle are only a few years apart, with Sarah being the older of the two as she was born in ’35, while Lyle was born in ’37. Making them 10 and 7 at the time of their dad’s death.

A year following the death of her husband, Susanna would marry another man in 1945 by the name of Peter Briggs. And he… was not the best father/husband.

And he wasn’t a fan of raising another man’s kids

But a year after being married Susanna and Peter would have a kid together, this being Sarah and Lyle’s half-brother Ollie Briggs

Unfortunately, there were complications when Ollie was born which led to Susanna’s death. Leaving all three siblings in the care of Peter. Who was certainly not thrilled to be taking care of three kids by himself, especially if two of them weren’t his own.

Because of that, the three ended up in an orphanage. And thankfully, they were never separated, due to the help of a pastor who ran the orphanage. But as soon as Sarah turned 18 she had already been working for awhile and found a way to help her brothers and be there for them.

And as soon as Lyle was able to, he quickly got a job to help take care of his younger brother. Landing a job at a mechanic shop in the town they lived in.

(I kinda like to think that Cecil was born in Alabama, mostly cause that’s where his VA is from and I swear, if you listen carefully when Cecil talks you can hear a slight southern accent.)

Now, Lyle had built a bit of a reputation in town. While he was a good man, he certainly didn’t take bullshit from anyone and would kick someone’s ass in a heartbeat if they were doing something wrong.

Cough cough, this is where Cecil learned it from cough cough

This man had an extremely strong moral compass. If you were being a jackass, harassing anyone, being a bigot, you best hope you don’t do it in front of this man.

Because of this there were a few times he wound up in jail, with the pastor who helped him growing up or his sister having to bail him out.

Eventually when he turned 20, so in 1957, Lyle would be drafted and have to serve in the Vietnam war, getting discharged in ’65 when he was injured and lost a lung.

Ironically this man chain smoked like there was no tomorrow, while serving and after he was discharged. Resulting in Cecil picking it up sometime in his late 20’s.

A month after getting back, Lyle did go back to his job. And would meet Cecil’s mother, Bonnie Lynch.

Bonnie is a little bit of a bitch, and you’ll understand why in a moment.

Now, she was born in 1940. I don’t exactly have anything in terms of her family or her own history. I think the only thing I had was that she came from a well off family.

Those two got busy and a couple months later, surprise, she’s pregnant.

Now, Lyle is a good and honest man. And he tries to do the right thing and proposes to her.

However, she turns him down. And straight up tells him, “I’m not interested. I’ll have your kid, but as soon as they’re born. They’re all yours.”

She is the deadbeat mom.

(I have this little headcannon that Lyle kept that ring he proposed with and eventually gave it to Cecil for when he finally settles down.)

cut to cecil saying he’s married to his job

But regardless, Cecil is born sometime in late ‘65 and his mom just straight up leaves after like a month or two.

Now Lyle isn't alone in taking care of Cecil. As his sister is willing to help. Considering by this point she's married and has at least two kids with a third on the way.

Ollie on the other hand was off at college, thanks to the help of Lyle and Sarah putting money towards his education.

But Lyle is still a single father raising a child and it wasn't easy.

Bonnie would go on to be an even bigger dick, because 10 years later, she would end up having two more kids who she would actually raise. Well, "raise". She let those kids do whatever they wanted.

So somewhere out there Cecil has two half-brothers he’s met once and then never talk to again.

The one time they met with him was when their mother died, in like 2012, and he just didn’t want to get to know them. He thanked them for telling him and sent them on their way.

By this time, he was already director of the GDA, so, it’s not like he has a lot of time for family stuff anyway.

But he tries. Especially to see his aunt Sarah who is getting up there in age, and suffering from Alzheimer’s.

Though, by time we see Cecil in the show his dad has long since passed, having died from lung cancer in '96.

Cecil's family isn't overly large. And it's certainly not the happiest story. But his family is a loving one, and looks out for one another.

He does have a lot of cousins though.

[opalvatter]

We know that Skarra has a niece (btw, a complete badass, mind you) which means that he has siblings. And family. And had a life before soccer.

Now, I can't even imagine him having a good family, because that wouldn't have enough angst, soo...

Skarra's Family Headcannons

His family comes from a long line of Business related jobs.

His father was an Administrator and his mother was a Banker, so he grew up in a typical, conservative, middle-class family. However, both of them dreamed to open a business and crave lavish lives, which meant they weren't around most of the time and were quite neglectful.

He has an older sister by 8 years( Who I'm gonna call Nina for now), who took up their family values and became the perfect child, who got perfect grades and did everything that was expected of her, repressing her own emotions, a classic case of older sister syndrome (yes, yes, she is a representation of me i could help myself)

However, during their younger years, their parents favored Skarra over his sister, thus straining their relationship.

When he was younger, he wasn't allowed to play most sports, instead being forced to study and get perfect grades.

He and Shakes met at the community center, where Skarra went for extra classes. Skarra's family didn't like Shakes and tried to separate them when they were younger. The first time he saw Shakes's family, Skarra almost started crying.

By the time he was 13, his rebellious face started to kick in, and with Shakes coaxing him, he started to sneak out anytime he could. That was when he discovered football and started to fall in love with it.

He secretly joined their town football team at 15, all while keeping up a studious appearance to his family. This was also around the time he discovered he was gay.

Eventually, he got tired of keeping up the double act and had a big fight with his parents, coming clean. Appaled at their son's behaviour, they kicked him out.

His sister, Nina, became the favorite (depressed) child, majored in Buisness and got unhapily married to a CEO, having a single child with him.

Skarra tried to remain hopeful, but when he wasn't even invited to his sister's wedding, his last straw broke and he became fully dedicated to football, wanting to prove them all wrong.

many years passed, and Skarra became a famous soccer star.

One day he got a phone call from his sister, asking if she could come see him. He reluctantly agreed, kinda sorta hoping that she changed.

Turns out, after their parents died in a car crash, she divorced her husband and put their child in a boarding school, finally living her life the way she wanted to.

Skarra was happy for her, until she started talking about her daughter. She was very clearly neglecting her child, and Skarra got mad, blowing up on her.

She too, got angry and revealed that the only reason she wanted to meet him was so that she could convince him to take in her child whenever the boarding school was on break.

Skarra agreed, only to save his niece from the same treatment he had to go through.

His 7 year old niece, dee (everyone on this hellsite call her that so lets go with it) is much too similar to Skarra, that he almost cried when he saw her the first time.

He may be an asshole, but he still has an heart. He tries to take care of her, to the best of her abilities, and shield her from most of the trauma he had.

I couldn't think of anything else for now, but I might add something later on. If any of you have any different ideas, comment them, i want to see :)

[vigilskeep]

here is my question barrage ^^' was keir already a reaver before he came to kirkwall? was he already aggressive/had he already used the same sort of masking he does in kirkwall? if not, what made him adopt that specific mask? what do bethany and leandra think of it? do any of the companions ever find out that it's a mask during the timeline of the game? what does he think of his mask, both during and after kirkwall? what does he think about how varric portrays him?

okay i LOVE these let's go

keir was not a reaver before he came to kirkwall; he becomes one at the end of the "act break breakdown", which is how i refer to a period of about a year after the end of act 1. losing bethany to the templars is indisputably his worst nightmare and he doesn't really process losing carver until then either. becoming a reaver is how he feels like he can regain control and become stronger, to avoid failing like that again. his companions have mixed opinions on it, and leandra especially doesn’t like it, but they’re also just very glad to have him back. he was spending a lot of time out of kirkwall and not really in contact with the others for a minute there

keir is a red hawke, his natural instinct is to be direct and honest and blunt, and part of the way he talks is due to him literally just not getting why it bothers people to talk straightforwardly and not knowing how to talk another way himself. he also is a mercenary for a living who will make threats and follow through, so the aggression isn’t a pretence, exactly. but the 24/7 over the top performance of aggression to everyone who isn’t his own, complete with the literal deeper voice that the male hawke VA puts on to do the aggressive lines, is what i would refer to as the mask

it’s not something he’s pretending to do or even has to think about. he’s worn it so long he’d have to make an effort to drop it. it kind of slowly built up over his life, with a few major upgrades. to begin with, very simply, he’s a neurodivergent kid who struggles socially, and moving from town to town, is pretty isolated to his parents who have abnormal social backgrounds for rural ferelden, and his siblings who are six years younger than him. also, if you play a red hawke, malcolm is canonically aggressive too, strict and angry and proud. little keir is strong, and when he can’t handle a social situation or wants to be alone, mimicking his father and playing aggressive works. the upgrades are: an incident when he’s fifteen and first kills a man and truly recognises the constant danger his mage family is in, when he’s twenty-three (i think it’s 23?) and his father dies and he has to do his best to step up and replace him like he promised, and of course when he’s twenty five, loses his brother and home fleeing the blight, and becomes a mercenary for hire in a city with the biggest templar presence in thedas. becoming a noble in kirkwall, it takes on other characteristics, like his rigid insistence on being visibly fereldan to the point of stereotype, and of course his becoming a reaver

a young bethany, up to act 1, takes the mask at face value because she looks up to him and believes in him implicitly. it makes her feel safe, but also a little inadequate and like she can’t discuss doubts with him. after spending some time away in the circle, she’s more cynical and independent, and she really is the main person who clocks that he’s pretending to be their father. to which she’s like... kind of cringe, isn’t it. MGHDJSKKSKS. when you can look past the mask to a scared kid playing at being his dad to look tough, the whole act loses a bit of its gravitas, especially when you’re his sister and never had to take any aggression/threat seriously. i mean, the deeper red hawke voice has literally just got to be him unconsciously trying to sound more like dad, how embarrassing is that. leandra by contrast buys into the mask a little too much, she relied a lot on him becoming his father, that’s part of why he did it in the first place

it’s hard for anyone but bethany to “find out” about the mask when they don’t know him without it and he can’t take it off. and like i say, it’s not a pretence, it comes so naturally it’s part of him. i would say isabela is the most aware. she does enough blustering herself to see past his; it’s his fierce love and loyalty she associates with him first, and his honesty, long before a few threats he throws around. fenris’ appreciation for strategy and merrill’s similar social struggles give them a little insight. varric and aveline see the least. sebastian has a bit of a different perspective because i don’t think he sees why you would put that on purposefully, when he’s killing himself biting it down being so bone-deep hungry jealous to be able to act on anger and violent instincts at will. anders is... a whole other thing i won’t get into because this post is already turrning out so long

keir is an essentially fearful—essentially terrified—person under his mask, and he believes that mask is a necessity. he doesn’t like the idea that he’s putting it on because he needs it, because any failure in it means a failure to fulfil this role he’s devoted his whole life to, and he also actually just doesn’t know how to interact with people otherwise. he stumbles through trying to be gentler. the mask just feels more essential as we build up to act 3, by which time it feels like meredith is constantly at his fucking throat and everyone is constantly watching. the way he acts gets more and more exaggerated at that point because a chink in the armour is death, and meredith holding all the cards means he’s held back from actually acting on any of his anger, so he feels he has to push harder to be taken seriously. and the more he talks, the more it’s obvious he’s all bark and no bite, the more threatened he feels. at that point meredith has his sister and anders and merrill are known apostates literally only alive and free on the weight of keir’s reputation. finally getting out of kirkwall—he really does hate kirkwall—is a giddy rush of fresh air. but it takes a lot of time and distance to even figure out how to drop it. like i say, he started doing this when he was fifteen, or even earlier, and it’s been a super useful crutch for everything he doesn’t know how to handle

keir doesn’t like the tale of the champion lmao and he makes no secret of that—i believe i wrote him saying he was going to throttle varric, the first time he picked up a copy—but it’s not that serious. he doesn’t care very much what your average person who isn’t a threat thinks of him, he’s not self-conscious that way, and it does play into how he was trying to act back then. his dislike is more about his and his friends’ personal business being out there, and also that varric said he had a beard. he has read it. he thinks it exaggerates his aggression, actually. every time there’s a red hawke dialogue line he feels is too much he reads it to anders and says “listen to this rubbish i don’t talk like that” and anders is like “[voice of offering painful truth but also trying not to laugh] love... i was there... that’s a direct quote”