#i accidentally made him look like a cat i had growing up I cannot handle this. Sighs.

[ratcandy]

nobody look at me for a minute

#this is aryl he is my yellow cat . he had exactly two braincells but leshy ate one of them so now there's only one left. #will he survive the winter with nothing happening in that head of his? only time will tell. #also yes arylide is just a shade of yellow SHUT up #i accidentally made him look like a cat i had growing up I cannot handle this. Sighs. #this is just an oc right like that's all that's happening here. this character existed for exactly one (1) official 30 second short #and we're all just collectively making ocs out of him. that's all that's happening here. #anyway. #clamart #cult of the lamb #cotl leshy #cotl yellow cat #<- like this tag is full of different guys. so many different guys. #and i think that's beautiful #leshycat

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fan fiction #identity reveal #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fic #ml fanfic #adrienette #my writing #happy birthday jenna! #the real power move is posting this on an episode premiere day #thanks for reading it anyway

[ofmermaidstories]

Spoilers for the latest chapter of Something!

I'm gonna go ahead and apologize now because this is long; please feel free to ignore my wordy ass, I just have a lot of feelings about a certain someone that showed up in the new chapter lol.

I am still trying to get my shit together enough to write a proper review, but I did want to come yell at you for making the grape boy somewhat likeable, like...

Firstly, how??? Secondly, why?????!?!

Lmao, in all seriousness tho, it's nice to see him have a personality that isn't just "Mmmm, tits" *drools* I like to think that everyone in the series grows up and (mostly) out of the worst of their habits, and while Mineta is still a bit of a lecher here he isn't nearly as offensive/creepy as he comes off in show. In fact he's actually sympathetic in a lot way. The bit about seeing his first dead body before "getting laid" hit different like... He tries to play it off like a joke, but dude has to have just as much PTSD as the rest of them, maybe even more given that he wasn't able to fight back in the same way as someone like Bkg or Deku would be able to with their super powerful offensive quirks. They were all just kids, but they had to face hell full on from jump, and let me stop before I get too in my feelings lol.

In a lot of ways, he reminds of you the boys from school — crude. Taking for granted the safety from being in a pack, unchallenged. Leering at posters, saying off-colour things because no one corrects them.

That's exactly the way I view him, just a crude little thing that refuses to be put in his place for long lol. Still, with his being a hero I would hope that he keeps a cap on it while he's on the job--in fact I'm sure he does; if he didn't I'm sure that Aizawa would've yanked his licence by now, the likes of Deku and Kiri wouldn't continue to associate with him, and that's saying nothing of the shit that would get posted to social mead and such. I feel like the only reason he says what he says to the Reader is b/c she's a little gremlin herself and he knows he's got a bit more leeway, yanno?

The little hangout session that they had at the end of the chapter was weirdly heartwarming?? I want a friend(???) that I can be a surly little shit with and draw on and that will call my bf that's not really my bf but should be my bf because he's (that is Mineta) got more emotional intelligence than me lmao. Never thought I'd see the day when the grape would make for such an excellent wingman--tho I gotta wonder what that text he sent to Deku said. Probably something along the lines of "come get yo girl, she must be bored/lonely af because she asked to hang out with me" followed by "are you ever gonna close the deal or not? or have you already hit it??? >:)" just to give the guy an extra push (or maybe he's got a better sense of self-preservation than what I give him credit for, idk lmfaooo...)

Okay, this is WAY too long, I just had to get it out of my system lol. I loved the new chapter lots and I cannot wait to see how things play out in the next one!!

LOL, oh Puck, i adore you sdlkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj

me being a shit-stirrer/asking myself questions i don’t have answers for under the cut

Cat asked me this question earlier today, actually — why Mineta. And honestly? Part of it is the challenge he represents — like, how do you write him into a fic and mature him up so that he’s at the very least, tolerable, but also keep the backbone of his character (which is being a little degenerate). Like, is it possible? One of the most popular tags on ao3 for mineta minoru is something along the lines of “mineta minoru is replaced with shinsou hitoshi” LOL so…….. why didn’t I just use Shinsou? Or Aoyama or Iida, as Cat suggested? And beyond the part of me that delights in giving myself perceived challenges, there were two stark reasons that stuck out to me, when i was first mulling over his inclusion.

1) the fact that he can draw. it’s literally as simple as that. ever since the BNHA exhibition opened up in Japan and it was revealed that there was a scene in there with a class blackboard and the kids having their little drawing competition — and that Mineta was objectively the most skilled — i was like, “i have to include that”. LOL. it’s like you say, Puck, our Reader is a little gremlin herself — i thought if I was going to write a Reader that could handle interacting with him (ie, be in a position to pay him out) it was going to be this one. I think being in the manga industry and starting out on this journey of creating and drawing a Shonen manga sort of put Reader in this unique position of… being in what seems like a boys’ club? So she’d be used to the male gaze within her field. I follow Horikoshi’s assistant (former assistant?) on twitter and let me tell you, that man is not shy about the things that he likes to draw LOL.

the 2) thing was the philosophy i’ve sort of accidentally given myself LOL and that’s the fact that — as a Bakugou stan, if i’m giving grace to a character who was a literal violent bully then………. i can use my magic powers and hand it around to the other characters, too, LOL. and like, i would argue that with Bakugou it’s different, like we’re currently seeing in the manga how he has grown and learnt and is actively changing, which is the key to any kind of redemption. do i think Mineta will ever undergo that in cannon? absolutely not lmao, i see him as being being Hori’s idea of comedic relief, he’s always going to be a horrible little degen. but i want it for him…… if only to justify why the boys of Class-A collectively ignore his bullshit, for the most part? Like, none of them actively call him out on it?? i think of the time he tried to climb the wall to spy on the girls in the onsen — and how it was literally only Iida scolding him and how it took a child to stop him. Or the one when he found the stupid hole into the girl’s changing room and while the boys all looked grossed out….. Jirou’s the one that point an end to that?????? I saw a TikTok (derogatory) suggesting how like, none of the girls of Class-A would trust Aizawa, as adults, because he didn’t do anything to put an end to Mineta’s bullshit, and it was a devastating suggesting. None of us want to believe that our favourites would be passively okay with this kind of behaviour, right?? Which means……. Mineta’s gotta change LMAO. And if Hori isn’t going to do it then imma borrow him and do it myself. Does it work? I have no idea LMAO i can’t judge anymore, my meter is broken. but i’m gonna work with what i’ve given myself and it either will, or it won’t LMAOOOO kldsfjlksdjflkdj fic is about having fun at the end of the day. :’)

But it’s like you point out, Puck — Mineta is also a child, when these kids get trotted out to their first War. And he’s also not as offensively built as the hard-hitters like Deku and Bakugou and Shouto are. Even if it’s not explored in the manga, that War is going to change them all somehow.

So, my gameplan for Mineta was to grab ahold of the tiny things about him — the talent for drawing, the like one [1] observation he has about the wreckage of the war/pro heroes during the war arc, his tears for Bakugou when B wakes up afterwards and how he tells Deku how cool he was and how much he admires him, in the current Bring Deku Home chapters — and try to envision a sleaze bag who learns that the bullshit he pulls won’t be tolerated, even if he’s still ultimately a skeeze LOL. i mean, he’s never going to drop that er…. appreciation for the female form. and i mean, hey, live your best life King, i’ve distinctly noticed a hand-fetish floating around on this site lately so i’m not gonna be like “NO men can’t like ANYTHING”. But the thing with him being a sleaze and open with his leering is like, he’s actively made the girls of his class uncomfortable with that in the past — how do you write it so that he’s not doing that in a position of power with the women he works with (and saves!), as an adult?? Maturity only goes so far. How much can I bank on the war and the subsequent bullshit they’re gonna face from it on…. transforming him??? It shouldn’t be up to the girls he’s learning with to police him, they’re just children. I have a vague gameplan for it — whether or not it works will be one thing; whether i can naturally shove it into the fic is another, LOL. Guess we’ll see. 🧐

SAYING ALL THAT,,,,, i’m actually really glad you liked (???) the ending scene with him because it’s my favourite LMAO lkdjflkdsjflkdjfkldsjf. 😭😭 Reader is by no means perfect, and she and Mineta both need to start treating each other with more respect, but her bullying of him was fun to write and I like imagining a Mineta who considers himself to be close with Deku (whether or not Deku thinks the same is up for debate) going along with it. i could see this version of Mineta being enough of a shit-stirrer to say something like, “gotta lock that shit down” to Deku LMAO kdfjlkdsjflkdsfjdklsfj and then getting left on a skyscraper somewhere…. RIP short King.

#the puckish rogue: adventures and magic 🪄✨🔮 #something just like this - fic #mer-spoils-everything #ofmermaidstories-asks #mermaids talks about 🍇 #puck you are always thoughtful and lovely with your comments and i want you to know how much i appreciate them — but mostly how much #i appreciate you for existing in this world 😭 and how by chance we exist at the same time and like the same things 😭💕🌷

[shinymooncolor]

Hi all!

As usual, I owe all of this to the wonderful world created by @lumosinlove. 🙏🏻

I love Kris so much. Single dad, hockey star is a mood. Apologies in advance. 😇

Enjoy!

Sweater weather chats #2

Kris joins a super secret club. Lily gets emotional. We get introduced to the bat cave. Kris is a cautionary tale for the rookies. Or that’s what Nado days. Kris is also an honorary mom. Celeste reminisces. Kasey, Nado and Kuny babysits. Everybody loves Remus. Ava wants a pony. Natalie has plans. SO MUCH BROMANCE.

—————

Emotional support group and Remus 🤩🥰🏒:

Friday 3.32 pm

NatNat added Kris to the group.

Allison: do I spy a new member? Welcome to the dark side, Kris. The rules are simple - this is a safe space for us to discuss our men, babies and other related topics.

Lucia: also, never tell the boys what happens at brunch. 😁

Celeste: welcome Kris. We thought you’d enjoy coming to brunch with us - Ava is always welcome.

Kris: woah? What is this? Shit. I’m honored. Also Remus? Wtf.

Remus: hi kris yeah I don’t know how I was allowed in, but it’s nice. 😁

NatNat: well Dumo might be the honorary dad but Kris is totally the honorary mom on the team. He wiped Gatorade off of Leo’s face last game. It was adorable 😍😍😍

Kris: well James did unscrew the top as a prank, not actually sure it’s a prank if you do it every game. And Leo didn’t realize. And he’s weird about not taking his blocker off. Had to help the kid out. 😆

Allison: well it made us enroll you in our secret and sacred club. Welcome! 🤩

NatNat: i forgot to send this on Wednesday!! Baby Russian with baby puppies

*kuny puppy pic*

GingerLily: awwww he looks so happy. James said he’s been depressed he cannot train this week. I love this. 😍

Anyaismyname: my baby. I knew him from he was 16. Such a sweet boy.

Kris: sweet? Are we talking about the same Kuny? He taught Ava to cuss a ref and last time the media asked her what she thought of the game and my playing, she parroted that. I had a trending tag for a month after that on Twitter😔

NatNat: I’m not condoning it but it was hilarious. I cried. But seriously he adopted a cat and named her Aya and they send me selfies with her every 7 minutes. They built her a castle in their ridiculous bat cave game room. 😅👑🐱

Remus: the bat cave is awesome. They’ve got pro surround sound and all. And a real slushee machine. 🤖 also kris, coach want you all back on the ice in 10.

NatNat: yeah haha kase is excited to go for halo night. Apparently they’ve got some sort of new VR stuff for practicing as well. 🏒🏒🏒

Celeste: Kris, don’t worry about the curse words. Marc spent three months yelling fuck at everything after Logan accidentally taught him. They get over it quick and the fans love you even more after that - haven’t you been on the most eligible list for your entire career? Also, didn’t Anya tell Kuny’s mom?

Anyaismyname: da, and believe me, Scolding work better in Russian. And I promised her to look out for her boy.

Kris: thanks guys, I know. I was just shocked. She’s my baby and sometimes I just can’t handle how quick she grows... it’s not fair... and yeah, apparently a single dad with a travel heavy job is eligible. Weird.... also - the boys’ game room is amazing and they did set up a my little pony game for her last time on the projector. Be there in three Re!!! 🏃‍♂️

GingerLily: awww I cant believe she was a baby when I first met her. She grows sooo quick! 😍

Kris: well it’s you soon! Good luck - you think you know what love feels like but. Damn, a baby just changes things. ☺️

GingerLily: we’re starting on the nursery next week and I can’t wait. James is hopeless with tools though but we’ve decided on a color theme at least 🥰🥰🥰

Celeste: mmh, that is always a big moment. I remember when I was pregnant with Adele, Pascal was still just settling into the Lions and we’d already moved twice, but something changed when we started working on the nursery. It got real then - he didn’t get the puck theme he wanted but nevertheless, I think that was when he really realized he was about to become a father 😍

NatNat: awwwww, can’t even imagine you two without your babies 😁

Celeste: me neither, honey, me neither. 😉

Friday, 4.38 pm

Kris: Natalie do you think we could find a puppy for Ava? We could house train it during off season and she’s been begging for a puppy for a while and i really want one too and hopefully with a puppy the “I want a pony” phase can be forgotten! :)

NatNat: of course!!! Also shouldn’t you be at training?

Kris: We finished 5 minutes ago. :) also thanks for cheering Kuny up, he was allowed to do stretches today.

NatNat: oh god. Forget the time out here. Is kase done too?

Kris: yeah but he’s currently unavailable. Something about hug a goalie day *pic of kasey and Leo, on the ice under a mountain of players*

GingerLily: 🤦🏽

Celeste: on another note my lovelies. I would love to host brunch next Sunday! We have full attendance - Elsa is visiting from Sweden! :) please let me know how many babies you’re bringing.

Sunday 7.03 am

Kris: hi Celeste. I’m really sorry to do this last minute but ava’s mom has cancelled again and I can’t get a sitter this late. I’d love to come for brunch next time though.

Celeste: oh my dear. Bring her. It’s absolutely no problem.

NatNat: hey kris. Kasey is going to nado and Kuny and he says they’re happy to babysit. Also he wants to know why you and Remus are invited to brunch. Don’t tell him anything. 😉😉😉

Kris: oh I don’t want to be a problem they probably don’t want a 4-year old to disturb their halo game...😬

NatNat: it’s not a problem at all :) (also need kase to practice - not getting any younger here 😏🤩)

Kris: well if it’s really no problem I know Ava would love to spend time with them. :) also totally rooting for baby blizzards soon!

———-

Blizzard created a new group: Babysitting

Blizzard added RussianGod, Nadotheman and KrisVolley

Blizzard: hey guys. Quick change of plans. Ava is hanging out with us today. Kris is going to brunch with the girls?! Said we’d be happy to spoil baby munchkin and teach her more Russian curse words

RussianGod: ok. Can we eat cookie? Also no bad words. Don’t want more yelling from Anya. She scary.

Blizzard: season diet Kuny. Oreos are only for Ava. And isn’t Anya like 5.2?

RussianGod: nado is still sleeping. But we can go to park and meet ladies. They love single dad. But Anya is little but scary. Have you not see how she keep sergei in check?

KrisVolley; you are not using my baby to meet ladies. Haha oh never thought of that. Anya is always nice to me 😂

KrisVolley: Here are the ground rules gentlemen!!!!

1) no begging - you need to say no and stick with it, unless she’s crying properly don’t give in to her. She hissy cries when she wants things her way

2) not too much sugar and candy alright? (Looking at you Kuny)

3) Kuny and nado can’t use her as a ploy to ensnare women.

4) do NOT teach her any more Russians words unless they’re good, safe and cute words. The press still hounds me from the time you taught her to cuss a ref....

5) have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Nadotheman: Morning boys. Also happy to babysit. But tHaNkS fOR aSkInG kase... 👍🏻 also @KrisVolley:

1) how the hell are we supposed to say no to that face? No idea how you made such a beautiful baby.

2) no problem. (Totally lying to you)

3) we would never use our baby niece in such a despicable way 😳 also it was one time and we can’t help that we are irresistible to baby-crazy ladies.

4) she can only scold a ref. According to Kuny totally safe and good words. Don’t believe what Sergei or Sunny says. Or the press.

5) so don’t knock up a fan at 18? Alright man got it.

KrisVolley: ....

Nadotheman: just keeping it real. You’re a cautionary tale for the rookies man. But your baby is cute. And you do a great job bro! 💪🏻

KrisVolley: I’m a what?? And thanks Nado. 😊

Blizzard: When you’re done with your moment.... I’m picking her up in five, can Nat go with you to Dumo’s? Ava and I will go have brunch at the bat cave and have an awesome time. And don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on the boys.

KrisVolley: thanks Blizzard. Good practice as well 😉

Kuny: 👀👀👀👀 baby blizzard????

Blizzard: alright calm down m8. We’re not even married (no judging kris)

Nadotheman: whatever you say bro. You gotta make a baby with that girl - she swooned at family skate. Also we all saw you makin heart eyes at the Brady bunch. 😆😆😆😆

Blizzard: they’re adorable and this conversation ends here. We’re outside now Kris. Also don’t encourage Nat. I’ve got a plan. 😬

——-

Nado: Kuny. Kuny. Is it baby safe? They’re here in 15 minutes.

Kuny: why you text me? I’m next door.

Kuny: also yes is fine. Maybe get bra down. It been in fan for 3 days

Nado: you’re the tall one. Get it down.

Kuny: I not put it there.

Nado: fine you lazy jerk. I’ll get it down.

Kuny: 😘

Nado: fuck off. But I love you too bro.

—-

Until next time, my lovelies 🥰

Always open for ideas, prompts, constructive criticism!

Also - does hug a goalie day exist? I think it should.

#sweaterweatherchats #lumosinlove #sweaterweather #sweaterweatherchatsnr2 #bromance

[ahgastae]

phantasm (pt.1) – namjoon x reader

➥ word count: 1.6k | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: this is a wip i’ve been saving for a while lol. it’s *technically* a rewrite of an extremely old one-shot i had that didn’t quite turn out how i wanted it so here we are!! i’m thinking of making it a series that i kinda just update whenever i feel like/have time to work on it but idk. feedback is always appreciated, and thanks for reading! ♡

An aggravated sigh leaves your lips, giving up on yet another failed attempt to force the basement door open. The metal handle remains stuck no matter what you do or how hard you push, and at this point you’re starting to run out of ideas. 

Part of you wonders how you managed to get yourself into this situation; locked in the basement of some musty, old abandoned hospital. It’s not exactly everyday people willingly wander into places like this, and you would normally be one of the ones who stayed as far away as fucking possible.

So what changed? What made you take the risk? And how the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

“Why in the hell would I ever want to do that?” You quirk a brow at your best friend, popping another fry into your mouth as you do. “Actually, scratch that, why the hell would you ever agree to that?” 

The unamused look on Hoseok’s face makes you want to laugh, but you cover it up with another sip of your chocolate shake.

“Because,” Hoseok grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “those little shits can be very persuasive when they want to be. I didn’t want to be the only one in the group who didn’t go, you know?”

You nod your head understandingly, “So you didn’t want to be the one to pussy out.”

“Y/N!”

You burst into a fit of laughter, barely dodging the onion ring he throws your way. Hoseok rolls his eyes again, and the furrow in his brow makes you realize he’s a lot more serious about this than you first thought.

“Okay, okay.” By the time you manage to contain yourself, his scowl has softened slightly. “But if all the guys are going, why do you want me to go so badly?”

Hoseok scoffs, “Uh, are you kidding? That place is going to be creepy as all hell, and I need my best friend there to provide some serious emotional support. And to keep Jungkook from posting videos of me freaking out on Twitter again.”

You both cringe, clearly remembering the last time he got sucked into one of these “adventurous” outings. Jungkook got the silent treatment for a solid three weeks because that clip of Hoseok screaming at a pigeon went viral. The kid still apologizes to this day, but you have a sneaking suspicion he’s behind some of the (admittedly hilarious) edits that have cropped up.

It makes sense for that reason alone as to why Hoseok would want you to tag along, but you’re honestly just as much of a scaredy cat as he is. You’re a lot better at keeping it under wraps, though, always coming up with some excuse for why you can’t go exploring whatever creepy abandoned place his friends want to check out next. But Hoseok has never been the one to ask until now, and you’re more than a little conflicted about it.

“I don’t know, Hobi,” You sigh, glancing down at your half eaten burger. “This has always kinda been your guys’ thing, you know? I’m not really into any of that.”

“Honestly, most of us aren’t, either,” Hoseok shrugs. “The only ones who really like it are Tae, Yoongi, and Kook. The rest of us are kinda just along for the ride.”

“You mean the ride through every possibly haunted, definitely dangerous place in the area.”

“Yeah…”

A small silence falls in between you, and you briefly wonder how in the hell he ever thought this was meant to convince you. Sure, he took you out to lunch, said you could get as many milkshake refills as you desired, put on those heart wrenching puppy dog eyes that you always have to struggle to ignore. But is it really worth getting the shit scared out of you with him and his six friends? One of whom might “accidentally” post a video of you losing your mind over something stupid?

You aren’t ready to become a Twitter meme!

With that terrifying thought, your mind is finally made up. You’re just about to open your mouth and tell Hoseok you just absolutely cannot–

“Joonreallywantedtoknowifyouweregoingtocome!”

The words leave his mouth in a jumbled mess, but you make them out clear as day. You should’ve known that’s the game he was playing. There’s no way Jung Hoseok would come to you with a request like this without having some kind of backup plan. And, unfortunately, his role as your best friend means he knows all about your little crush on the de facto leader of his friend group. You just never thought he’d be so prepared to openly exploit it.

“So what do you say?” Hoseok bites his lip from across the table, and you have a sneaking suspicion he already knows what your answer is going to be.

“...Fine. I’ll go on your stupid ghost trip,” You grumble, a bright smile appearing on Hoseok’s face as he starts to thank you rapidly. “But I’ll break that kid’s phone if he so much as tries to record me!”

Your threat falls on deaf ears, Hoseok already whipping out his phone to presumably tell the other guys. Part of you wants to be mad that you let yourself get played so easily, but does it really count if you knew that’s what he was trying to do?

Eh, whatever. At least he’s happy. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually end up enjoying yourself after all.

So that was a fucking lie.

You haven’t even been out of the car for five minutes, and you’re already starting to regret leaving your apartment this afternoon. Hoseok said you guys were going to check out some old hospital on the outskirts of town when he picked you up, but you had no idea he meant this far out.

The woods surrounding the “hospital” aren’t particularly thick, but it’s just enough to where you know it’ll terrify the shit out of you when the sun starts to go down. You’re honestly not sure if you’d rather be stuck out here or in the creepy ass building in front of you when that happens. But, if all the guys currently standing around Taehyung’s truck are anything to go by, that decision might be made a lot sooner than you think.

 “Y/N!” One of them suddenly calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Stop being a weenie and get your ass over here!”

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself off from your spot leaning against Hoseok’s car and make your way over to the truck bed. The three younger ones are huddled around some sheets of paper in the bed while Jin and Hoseok fiddle with some flashlights and batteries near the open passenger seat. You head over to Hoseok first, curious about the two missing from your party. 

“Hey, where are Joon and Yoongi? I thought you said everyone was coming.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be here,” Hoseok laughs. “Joonie just had to finish up some stuff at work real quick. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

You nod, crossing your arms and scanning over the building in front of you. It definitely looks old. What used to be white paint has faded to a dark, muddy grey, and the windows are either smashed to bits or boarded over with moldy planks of wood. There’s stray graffiti scattered all over the place, the parking lot barely distinguishable from the overgrown weeds and shrubs surrounding the area.

Honestly, everything about it just screams “Danger! Stay the fuck away!” to you. How in the hell did the guys even find this place?

“Ah, fucking finally!”

You’re jolted out of your thoughts once again by one of the boys shouting from the truck bed. It must have been Jungkook, since he’s the one who jumps out and starts running towards the car pulling into the clearing.

Wait, a car? That could only mean-

The car slows to a stop behind Taehyung’s truck, and sure enough, you can just barely see the two boys you were asking about waving to you all inside. Well, one of them is waving. The other seems to be focused on parking without running over the energetic Kook jumping around the car.

You can kind of relate to the younger boy’s excitement, but the butterflies in your stomach are for an entirely different reason.

“What took you guys so long?” Jungkook whines, greeting the two newcomers as soon as they step out of the vehicle. “We were supposed to get into the building before it got dark!”

“I know, I know,” Namjoon apologizes. “We would’ve been here a lot sooner, but-”

“But someone kept insisting on grading ‘one more spelling quiz’ before we left.”

Yoongi’s grumpy pout is as evident as ever as he wholeheartedly throws his roommate under the bus. The three of them have joined the rest of the group now, the other two youngsters leaning over the side of the truck bed.

“You weren’t thinking of ditching us for some second graders, were you, Mr. Kim?” Taehyung teases, quirking an amused brow.

Jimin falls into giggles, “That sounds exactly like something he would do!”

“Hey, I promised the kids I would have them all handed back by Monday!”

Namjoon’s desperate attempts to defend himself are ignored, and you can’t help but smile at the small pout that crosses his face. It’s short lived, though, as Jungkook soon calls everyone’s attention back to him as he hops back up onto Taehyung’s truck.

“Alright, losers, now that we’re all finally here,” A mischievous grin grows on the maknae’s lips. “let’s get down to business.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #bts fluff #my writing #look at me still having no idea how to tag things lmao

[borderlandsthirst]

Flame Angel au

Koetai  

Physical 

Has a long gash going down her back at a slanted angle, it’s decorated with the twins’ snake symbol and a pair of dragon wings. 

Triple pierced ears, a small hoop for the earlobe and studs for the other holes. 

Long kinky hair kept in a ponytail, left side of her hair shaved around the ears. 

Has smaller scars over her body from years of abuse, use to try and cover them but now wears them with pride. 

Fashion since is nonexistent, just like the twins she wears an inconsistent color scheme. 

Has her own symbol she wears on the back of her jacket. A dark orange, six-winged serpent surrounded by flames. 

Has a pet Spiderantling name Natty who grows up to be a badass Spiderant Queen. 

I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE!! 

Long post under the cut along with psychological destress and dark thoughts.

Mental 

Mostly shattered, years of mental and physical abuse has left Koetai in a state of numbness that only eases when the twins are around. 

It’s a bit unstable, can fly off the handle sometimes and takes it out on the followers.  

Has accidentally scratched Tyreen once while having a fit, it didn’t really affect her physically but emotionally she understands what it means to be treated poorly by your parents. Even if it’s not the same kind of trauma. 

Sometimes she’ll just shut down while in the safety of the Cathedral, while working with a saint or one of the twins she just stops and stare into the distance. Takes a while to bring her back 

Has stolen small unimportant items from the twins to take with her while she’s in the field so it feels like they’re with her. She needs them with her. 

Feels empty when the twins aren’t around or isn’t being praised by the followers, she’s the right hand of the twin Gods, she’s the enforcer. How can nobody see how powerful and important she is? 

Is a bit sadistic, will toy with Crimson Raider soldiers like a cat and then kill them in the most gruesome way imagine with her bare hands or a weapon that’s either her’s or theirs. All with a smile on her face. 

Takes pleasure in all pain, mostly people she knows are innocent and not fighters. Why should she care about the pain of children when nobody cared about her’s? 

Personality 

Crazy, that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened to her. 

Will fake you out in a heartbeat, one second she’s quiet and smiling real menacingly in your face, the next you’re lying on the ground bleeding while she walks off with your money and loot. 

Only when she’s with the twins can the girl she could have grown into is revealed, kinda shy in interested in music and crafting. And yoga, she has to be at ease to keep the twins at ease when they’re about to snap. 

Loves Troy and Tyreen but would never tell them (they’ll figure it out on their own eventually), because to her they are real Gods. 

When she’s focused on something she’ll get real quiet so her concentration isn’t broken. Sometime she’ll stick her tongue out the side of her mouth, Troy and Tyreen have many pictures. 

Gets along with the twins amazingly well, it’s almost like they’ve been together forever. Will let Tyreen do her hair and makeup, will let Troy do her nails. All three of them will sleep in a pile. 

Is standoffish towards literally everyone else, the bandits of Pandora remind her too much of a crazy, shitty father. 

See the cultist as demons, they aren’t even lost souls, just ants on the surface of a dry ass planet, but the twins have given them a chance to seek out salvation. She just loves the part where the follows fall out of line, although she hates seeing the twins angry, she loves the killing part.

Troy 

Physical 

Has a pretty nasty scar on his right shoulder leading down to the area across from his ribs. 

Troy protects his damaged area with a skin friendly and cushiony gel liner filled with medical beads. It hugs his shoulder and keeps his bracer in place without causing more harm to his body. 

Wishes for nothing more than to be normal like his sister, he constructs a prosthetic using stolen Hyperion tech that (surprisingly) still works and sprays it his skin tone. 

He has built up muscle mass (but is still skinny around his ribs) still has his eight pack (or is it a six pack?) 

Will cake on so much eye shadow you wonder if it's just a part of his face. And wears more eyeliner that is necessary when in front of a crowd. 

Has nipple piercings, gauges, a lip piercing, and a di- 

Still has the things in his arm (because Idk what they are) that are medical ports the pump nutrition into him. And so does his spinel connecter.  

THICK THIGHS AND ASS!! 

Mental 

Hates his body, even though he has an eight pack he loses weight at a dangerous rate, he has to eat lots of meat every day. 

Has night terrors often and usually wakes up with a knife in his hand. He wishes he could muster his powers to heal himself a real right arm. 

Tyreen usually has to come and calm him enough to get him back in bed, on especially terrible nights she’ll have him sleep with her for comfort.  

When alone he mumbles his mother’s name like a mantra, Leda Calypso. Like saying her name with keep him from going insane. 

Is angry at Tyreen for latching onto him as a fetus and almost killing him, but knows that she obviously didn’t mean to, this kind of thing happens sometimes to twins. And it’s not like she could do anything about the Leech, she was a fetus. 

Doesn’t stop him from hating what happened. Even though he loves his only family member. 

Has found himself thinking about very dark things involving Tyreen and blood. 

Making his prosthetic look like a real arm only broke him more, but even if it looks real, he knows it’s not. 

Personality 

A mask of channeled angsty goth teen energy, not as dramatic as Tyreen, but when he is it’s a fucking show. Overconfident in himself and cocky. 

Doesn’t like when the followers get too close to him, Tyreen, or Koetai. Will act like he gives a damn about his followers at a distance, but if they get too close? He crushes they’re skull with his cybernetic. 

Is a cold and viscous beast with no remorse for anyone, will stump in your ribcage just for looking at him. 

Keeps his personal saints at an arm's length, on Koetai can get close, anyone who steps out of line is, well, dead. 

Behind closed doors he’s all over his machines, he loves to tinker and build. He created the blueprints for the COV’s guns, Koetai’s buzzaxe, and countless other knickknacks across the camps of Pandora. 

Loves beatboxing, will make up some horrible beat in hopes that Tyreen or Koetai will rap or sing to it, can actually sing himself. Has sung the girls to sleep before. 

Records personal logs for himself whenever he’s in the mood, it can be about anything, personal issues, how being the GodKing makes him feel, how there’s really only one asset in his life that’s keeping him together. 

Love to bake, surprising to someone who doesn’t know him. But Troy loves sweets and it’s hard to get that on Pandora, so he makes them himself. 

Tyreen 

Physical 

Tyreen has a matching scar on her left shoulder blade where she was connected to Troy. 

She wears at least two layers of clothing to ensure it stays hidden, it doesn’t matter if it’s hot out, if her scar is covered then she’s satisfied.  

Has perfected a balanced look of dark makeup to make her look grown and sexy since she has a baby face. Sharp eyeliner, dark blue or black eyeshadow, and variety of dark lip-glosses.  

Works out with Troy (but not too much, just enough to stay in shape) so she has a nice four pack. 

Also has piercings, cute little studs for her ears, a nose piercing, nipples too, and a cl- 

Has her mother’s last name tattooed across her lower back. And has the COV logo tattooed on her right shoulder (really to match the eye on Troy’s shoulder.) 

Doesn’t wear a glove on her left had (since it doesn’t do anything nor does it really match the outfit.) 

THICK THIGHS SAVE LIVES, while big booties end them. 

Mental 

Can HEAR the Leech talking to her, trying to convince her to consume more, feed more, TAKE MORE. Has even told her to leech her brother more times than one. 

Was once teetering on the edge of insanity because of the constant whispering in the back of her head, but over the years she’s managed to push it back. But sometimes the voice breaks through again. 

Because of the voice she barely sleeps, it’s not like she needs to, but she can’t even if she needed to. 

Loves her brother with all her heart but feels like he hates her for what she’s done. Sure, she wasn’t even born yet, but she almost killed him before he was even born. 

Actually despises the fact she’s a siren, if she wasn’t a siren Troy would messed up, mom would still be alive, and dad wouldn’t have treated us so coldly. 

Doesn’t have it together as much as she likes to think, would have a mental breakdown behind closed door, Troy has only seen it once and spent hours with Tyreen as she sobbed uncontrollably into his arms. She made sure to never let him witness that again. 

Tyreen has clawed at her tattooed arm a few times, scratched thick deep cuts that immediately heal close, just to be scratched open again. 

Only perusing the Grant Vault for Troy’s sake, hopefully all that power will keep his stable for the rest of their lives. 

Personality 

Egotistical and shamelessly smug. Thinks she’s big shit and that she’s on top of the world. Lives with a shit-eating grin on her face while in front of the camera. 

Actually convinces everyone around her that she truly does care about of her followers (but is really still afraid of them.) Wouldn’t hesitate to punt-kick one in private though.  

Enjoys followers throwing themselves at her feet to offer gifts and praise, but if anyone touches her, even accidently, they’re dead. They’re not even allowed to kiss her boots, she doesn’t want their saliva on her clothes. 

When away from public she is extremely soft and sweet, kisses? She gives kisses to her brother and to Koetai, she is also pretty chill. 

While Troy bakes, Tyreen cooks. She may not need to eat real food but that doesn’t mean she can’t if she wants to. Pasta, sandwiches, a fucking baked potato? You name it, she can make it.  

Loves to sing, her mother said she had the voice of an angel, will perform a little concert for Troy and Koetai and feel flushed and proud afterwards. 

Enjoys painting like no one would believe, has a painting station in the corner of her room where she spends a good amount of time painting pictures of her loved ones, which is only three people, not including her father. 

Enjoys just, sitting outside on her balcony with the fresh air, even if the air is dry and smells like skag shit.  

First time I’ve ever written anything like this and I’m sure I did it badly, still more to come, should work on a position structure or something. Also need to make a layout of the common and working rooms.

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #Koetai #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #My writing #please reblog #Am I doing it? #Am I AUing? #flame angel au

[icetomeetya]

Wiztober Day 12: Trusted Ally

Warnings: Death, depictions of serious injury

She could handle this mission, of course. But with resentment growing towards the dogs of Marleybone, tensions were growing high. They refused to help her out any more than they had to, and she only did exactly what they told her to do, botching it “accidentally” if it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

So when a cat that the dogs would swear was “evil” helped her out against O’Leary thugs, Rowan didn’t bat an eye. Obviously not every cat was evil; it was only natural that some would be willing to help her.

After the battle against the thugs, Rowan turned to thank her new ally, but he was already gone. Strange. In the hopes that he was still around, she called out, “Thank you,” but of course, there was no response.

After the battle against Jacques the Scratcher, Rowan collapsed on the floor, heavily injured but stable. Most likely, this is where it would end. She couldn’t move: either one of her allies or one of Jacques’s allies would find her, and it would most likely be the latter.

Luck was on her side that day, however, and the same cat that helped her in her previous battles crouched next to her. “Stay with me,” he said, his voice low, as he tipped a potion into her mouth. Once she swallowed, Rowan jolted up, not a trace of her injuries left.

“Wait! Don’t leave. Please, who are you?” Rowan asked as he turned to go. “And why are you helping me?”

The cat paused, analyzing her with his sharp yellow gaze. After what seemed like eternity, he nodded, offering a paw to help her up. “I can’t tell you why I’m helping, but you can call me Kit.”

Rowan gratefully took his paw, dusting herself off. “Are you going to continue helping me? I need to take down Meowiarty; he’s partnering with Malistaire and I cannot let that happen.”

Another moment’s hesitation. Eventually, though, he nodded, adding, “You have yourself a deal. Here. Take this,” he ordered, taking a ring off of his sandy orange paw and handing it to her.

“Why?” she frowned.

Kit smiled. “Can’t tell you, I’m afraid. Trust me though, it’ll keep you safe.”

Enemies seemed to avoid her after her meeting with Kit, and she quickly deduced that the ring seemed to have caused that effect. Still, his peculiar behavior after that day slowly made her lose faith in him.

“Where are you going? Why are you leaving so quick? What are you doing with that? Why did you do that?”

The response to those questions was always the same: a sigh and an, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you, miss. Trust me.”

Still, he never hurt or hindered her, and over time, she grew past her distrust and leaned on him whenever she needed support.

“Kit?” she asked the day she was preparing to storm Big Ben.

“Yes?”

Rowan bit her lip before responding, “Will you come with me to Wizard City after I defeat Malistaire here? I don’t want to stay here, and this place treats you like garbage.”

Kit stared at the ground, silent for yet another eternity. “Let’s focus on making it out of the battle alive. What-ifs can come afterwards, okay?”

“But if we both live, will you?” Rowan pressed.

Kit turned away, then sighed. “...Maybe. I have connections here, I have a life here. You’re not my only friend, you know. Surely you wouldn’t give everything away to stay here. Wouldn’t you miss life back home?”

“Yeah,” Rowan murmured, clenching her fists. I couldn’t leave Taylor behind, and Mom and Dad would be even sadder. It’s almost worse than if I died...at least I wouldn’t have had the choice to go home if I did. I see what he means now. “But promise me you’ll be ready to have me visit. If we both live.”

With a smile, Kit pulled her into a hug. Rowan stiffened at first, thoroughly not used to human—or cat—contact, though slowly, cautiously, she hugged back. “Of course I will, Rowan. Get some sleep tonight, okay? And—”

Kit’s eyes widened as he looked at Big Ben, and he jerked away, racing down the street without saying goodbye. Rowan sighed, staring at the empty space on the bench where he had been just moments before. “Good night, Kit,” she whispered.

In total silence, she rode in the lift to the top of the clocktower, ready to defeat Meowiarty and Malistaire once and for all. I can do this. I have to. Everyone is counting on me, my family wants me to come back—well, I don’t know—no time for these thoughts. I have to succeed.

As the lift paused on the roof of the clocktower, Rowan stepped off, not flinching as she stared Malistaire down.

“You again! I don’t have time for this. You realize you’re too late. With the Krokonomicon, I have everything I need to finish what I have started,” Malistaire growled. Not deterred, Rowan took another stride forward.

“But I can’t have you following me to Dragonspyre. Meowiarty, take care of this pest once and for all,” he continued before teleporting away.

Rowan missed what Meowiarty said before the fight, as her eyes fell on one of the people guarding the way back down, cutting off her escape route.

“Kit?” she whispered. “Kit. Why are you here?”

He stared straight ahead, not meeting her gaze.

“Kit,” she pleaded. “This is just a mistake, right? Why aren’t you helping me? Please...”

Meowiarty laughed, throwing powder over Rowan, powder that made her more susceptible to Myth. “Of course it isn’t. He’s one of my most loyal henchmen, after all. Though not useful enough to fight; fool couldn’t even track you.”

No reaction from Kit.

Throughout the battle, Rowan danced around Meowiarty’s attacks and sent her own in their stead, pain from Kit’s betrayal fueling every single spell.

It wasn’t enough. They were evenly matched, both barely standing as they desperately clung to life. Now it was Meowiarty’s chance to strike, and with a raspy chortle, he sent his next spell straight at Rowan. She watched with horror, closing her eyes after she saw the cyclops didn’t fizzle. This is it. This is finally it. No...please...

She heard the sickening sound of the hammer cutting through flesh, but when she felt no pain, her eyes flew open. On the ground beneath her lay Kit, blood gushing out of the place the cyclops struck. Hands clasped over his wound in vain, he smiled weakly, finally meeting her gaze for the first time that night. “Rowan. I’ve always been on your side,” he rasped, his body convulsing one final time before it fell still, his final smile still on his face.

“KIT,” she screamed, tears flowing down her face.

“Oops,” Meowiarty shrugged with a dark laugh. “A life for a life, I suppose. Hurry it up.” As Rowan’s ice snake was about to bite him to finish him off, he kicked Kit’s body.

Crashing to the ground below.

Meowiatry kept laughing until the snake bit him square in the chest, right where the cyclops ended Kit.

The numb horror of killing someone, and the loss of one of her closest friends overwhelmed Rowan, and she sat in the middle of the floor, dead to the world.

#ask to tag #wizard101 #wiztober2020 #wiztober

[sweetmeatdale]

Trying this one more time and hopefully this will be visible if you search the tags. But long story short I’m trying to figure out how to post a fic(or a link to one) and have it be possible to search for it on tumblr.

Edit: ok so depending on whether you see this on mobile or on desk top this is gonna be a difficult thing to read so sorry about that but if anyone has any information that’ll help I’d appreciate it

Re-edit it disappeares from being searchable whenever I try to add the link so the whole thing should be readable below and maybe I’ll get it edited in as a link soon, the “read more” is still behaving weird too

A Secret Admirer

It’s not like she hadn’t considered approaching Adrien as Ladybug, she certainly felt more confident and then on top of that she could keep her confessions of her crush on him anonymous, or at least as anonymous as ‘Ladybug’ was but that’s where the problem lied. If she did go visiting him as Ladybug to tell him how she feels then that always left the risk of making him a target for Hawkmoth, she risked making Chat jealous, and she risked his dad’s whole overprotective security house getting turned in a cage for him if he disapproved of the risks she’d be putting him in… basically she’d gone over the idea enough times to catastrophize every scenario in her mind and unlike her civilian approach Alya couldn’t directly encourage her past a lot of them. As much as she tried to convince herself it was safe to just go over and get a confession out of her system she felt Ladybug’s status made it all too dangerous, that was however not a problem that was linked to a new identity she’d acquired. Multimouse was perfect, only Chat knew her identity and she was a relatively unknown hero so it wouldn’t attract much interest, and if she was worried about a noticeable blush she could just be too tiny for him to see. So that was her new plan, she could just pop on over and tell him how she felt and then maybe with that first step out of the way she could work towards telling him without a mask to hide behind and she could finally make some actual progress with him for once.

Tikki argued that it was basically the same thing as visiting as Ladybug and that she was misusing the miraculous but Mullo didn’t seem against the idea of a short time out just to get her to finally be able to talk to Adrien for a few minutes. So she decided to run with the impulse before her doubts could take over and headed out into the evening.

—-

Adrien wasn’t planning to patrol tonight, he’d let Plagg wander off and do his own thing while he checked the ladyblog between doing his homework, that was until he heard something going on by his window. He turned to look but couldn’t see Plagg, instead there looked to be four things about the size of his kwami moving around the frame of his window. He moved closer to find a group of Multimouse trying to swing his unlocked window open. He used the remote for the tall windows to crack open the one they were pulling at slightly only for one of them to gasp that they’d been noticed.

“Mu-Mouse person? Who are you? What are you guys doing here?” He asked, remembering he wasn’t supposed to who Multimouse was.

One stood straight up in the windowsill while the others climbed down and announced, “I am the superhero akumas fear, Multimouse!” Striking a little pose while doing so and jumping to the floor with the rest of herselves.

“Ok, Multimouse, what are you doing here? Is there an akuma?”

“Oh! Right!” She said almost gasping for air out of panic realizing she hadn’t planned this far ahead, but Adrien assumed she was just winded from traveling at that size. “I’m training with Ladybug at the moment… I just needed to stop here and-“

“-And catch your breath?” He ventured a guess when she paused for a moment too long.

“Well, that too” one of them blurted out, “but we had something else for why we stopped here specifically”. Three seemed to huddle around the main one and whisper into her ear before pushing her forward from the group, “Adrien Agreste,” she began to announce before looking back to the others for support. “I am using this brief chance as a superhero to do something I cannot do as my regular self.” Noticing that this piqued his interest in what she had to say she took a deep breath and continued, “I came here specifically, tonight, because I needed to tell you finally that…” one of the Multimouse nudged her “Oh! Sorry I’m rambling, what I need to tell you is that I- um , is that I really like you” she forced out, “and I know that you won’t be able to know who this confession is from or if it’s nothing more than a fan confession but I promise you this love is genuine and real and I just tried so many times in person and couldn’t get past the fear of rejection.” She noticed a growing look of shock before she continued, “I just had to finally get the words out, even if they were anonymous. I hope you’ll understand and I hope that one day I won’t need this mask to help me say it. So- um yeah, I’m gonna head out before Ladybug notices us missing, umm, bye?” She gave a small wave before hoisting herselves back up to the windowsill.

Before the last one could jump back outside Adrien snapped back to reality enough to call out to her, “Multimouse, wait” he watched to make sure she turned her head at least, “if you get the chance again you can probably stop to catch your breath and chat some more later, jumping around the city at that size probably takes a lot out of you.” She smiled at that and wordlessly nodded before jumping back outside. And now Adrien was back alone.

“Plagg, I think Marinette might like me.”

“Finally pieced that one together huh?” He replied appearing out of wherever he’d hidden from her.

As much as Adrien wanted to come up with a comeback for that remark he had a much bigger problem on his mind, because Marinette thought that her confession was anonymous and if he didn’t want her to know he was Chat Noir then he had to figure out how to hide from her that she’d dropped this bombshell on him. He had no idea how to face her at school now knowing what he did. He needed to clear his head. “Plagg, Claws Out!” He shouted as he took off into the night.

_________

As soon as she thought she was out of sight of the mansion she detransformed and transformed into Ladybug to get herself home, she hadn’t considered it before she headed out but navigating the world at that size was certainly a lot more taxing than her usual way of swinging about the city. She decided to find a chimney to lean against and rest before going all the way back, or at least she would’ve rested had a certain Cat not managed to find the exact spot she’d decided to sit down.

“I thought you weren’t going to be out tonight?” She asked.

“I didn’t plan to but, I thought I saw Multimouse” he said, not completely lying but trying to come up with something she’d believe.

“You did? Where!?”

“Oh, you know just a few off that way,” he gestured vaguely towards his house, “but I Lost them so I thought I’d find you to see what was up.”

“Oh? Well not too much, just trying to train her a bit, you know just in case.”

“Where is she now?”

“Um, Marinette is on her way home, why?”

“Just wondering? How’d her training go? Looks like she took a lot out of you.”

“Yeah? Well guess you could say she’s all over the place, but I suppose that makes sense with that power. She’s handling it pretty well though.”

“So does this mean we’re going to be seeing more of her now?”

“We’ll see Kitty, Just don’t run off to gossip with her just yet, I don’t need another Weredad situation.”

“Fine, but could I get some warning for next time? I thought there was an emergency.”

“Alright, I get that but it was sorta spur of the moment so no guarantee that it’ll happen any time soon.”

“She’s a pretty great person so don’t go keeping her all to yourself, Bug,” he said with a wink, “unless you’re afraid of losing me to her?”

“As if,” she giggled, “go home already you big flirt, I’m sure you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Alright, just let me know what’s up later” he replied, turning to the way he’d come and jumping off shouting, “Good Night M’lady.”

“Good Night!” She shouted back finally standing up to head home.

——

By the next morning she was glad to finally get that weight off her chest, she resolved to see how far this freedom could take her, she even thought about bringing him some pastries for lunch. That was until she got downstairs to grab som and he was standing there in the storefront chatting it up with her parents.

“Oh, here she is now!” Her mother said as she came through to the front of the bakery, “ Adrien was just asking about you.”

“He- he was!” She sputtered out, wondering to herself if she had accidentally said something that gave her away last night.

Now more acutely aware of Marinette’s panic Adrien spoke up, “Well I just asked if you knew when she’d be down, I was just here to get some pastries.” Hearing a small sigh of relief from Marinette he continued, “Is there anything you’d recommend?”

“Oh! Ok, well… I have some of those passionfruit you said you liked before that I made last night!... or unless you wanted something else? There’s some mint cookies that’re new? And a peanut butter cake?”

“Well all of that sounds amazing, but I probably shouldn’t go overboard, are the cookies the smallest of those?” He asked turning back towards Sabine at the counter.

“I’ll ring that up for you and then you two can head out to school together.”

He paid for his pastries and tried not to stare as they left to cross the street to the school, he had to see her as soon as possible which is why he took his time deciding but his mind was still in a blur looking for what signs he might’ve missed that she liked him. There was so much he was wondering about, like when she said she’d tried before but stopped herself and he couldn’t figure out when she might’ve done that or what he would’ve done to make her afraid.

As they got to the doors of the school together he saw Alya give her a look of some kind, was that a sign? Did she know? Was that about something else?

He was probably a little to preoccupied in his thoughts because he was caught completely off guard by Marinette asking him if something was wrong.

“Does it look that way?” He hesitantly replied.

“Well maybe, you don’t seem upset but something looks like it’s bothering you. Did something happen? Were the cookies bad?”

“No it’s nothing like that,” he paused, wondering how could he say this to her without giving it away, “I sorta got an anonymous message from... an admirer? I guess would be the way to put it.” He definitely noticed her perk up at that. He darted his head away so she wouldn’t see him react.

“D-do you want to… find them?” She asked cautiously, Multimouse was already an identity she’d sacrificed once and she could certainly do it again but telling him outright probably wouldn’t leave the best impression. She knew he knew that responsibility from the Snake miraculous...

He broke her line of thought by speaking back up, “I don’t think they want me to know yet. I still want to, that curiosity is probably natural, I just don’t want her to think I’m disrespecting why she kept it a secret.”

Marinette thought about it for a second, she had wanted to get out the confession so that it’d be easier to talk to him so now was probably the time to take that advantage and go for it, “Well she probably wants you to know eventually, so why not keep an eye out for a girl who’s got her eyes on you,” he turned back to face her at that, “She’s probably closer than you think.”

She wanted to reassure him but looking into that smile trying to help him find her he realized just how much of a hold this little mouse had on him.

#multimouseweek2020 #multimouse #fic #ml #ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agrest #long post #how do i edit this #appears different on mobile #wrote a thing

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 13: Established Relationship

Discoveries | @wildsofourhearts Rating: Mature Word Count: 1967 Main Tags and Warnings: Romance, Fluff, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Kissing, Making Out Summary: Dean and Cas are in a relationship and Dean is being too considerate for Cas's liking with making sure they don't take things too fast in the bedroom. Experimentation on what turns Castiel on ensues.

Pink | @dmsilvisart Rating: Mature Word Count: 3352 Main Tags and Warnings: canon verse, foreplay, blindfolds, implied smut, casefic, fake case fic, established relationship Summary: Sam sends Dean and Cas on a fake case in order to force them to enjoy time off. While Castiel finds that to be a lovely idea, Dean is distracted by the decor and the fact that this cements their relationship as, well.... a relationship! Castiel has to resort to a distraction that cannot be ignored in order to get Dean to relax.

As You Wish | @alullabytoleaveby Rating: General Word Count: 1682 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, established relationship, fluff, kittens Summary: Dean’s not good with words, never has been, not like Cas. He has no idea how to dress this up, soften the blow, so he comes right out and says it: “I accidentally adopted five kittens.”

The Only Thing I Care About | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8783 Main Tags and Warnings: AU - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Everyone is Overly Invested in Dean and Cas's relationship Summary: Dean and Cas thought they faced their toughest hurdle once they overcame their fears and confessed their feelings. What they didn't realize was that love is an uphill battle, and it isn't easy. But you can make it easy. If only well-meaning family didn't get in the way...

Fifty Cents | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: General Word Count: 2893 Main Tags and Warnings: Holiday Fic, Established Relationship, Proposal Summary: With Christmas just around the corner, Dean has to do some serious grocery shopping - enough to feed an army. Literally. And a few extra guests. He takes Jack and Cas with him to the grocery store. But will they be bringing home only food? Or is there more to find? The smallest of things can be the most thoughtful presents, given the right meaning and intention.

He Was Softer With Him | @hefellfordean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3347 Main Tags and Warnings: Season 13 Coda, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Coda to s13e02: Sam struggles to explain Dean's actions to Jack, so he decides that maybe showing him is easier. He lets Jack into his memories to show him that Dean wasn't as cold and hard as he seems.

A Moment’s Silence | @wingsdestiel Rating: Mature Word Count: 1111 Main Tags and Warnings: Established Relationship, Falling Castiel, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Canon, Fluff, Mild Smut Summary: Dean still can’t pinpoint exactly when everything shifted into place between them. It had been happening for a long time.

in my blood | @reallyelegantsharkfish Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1110 Main Tags and Warnings: Established Relationship, Angst, Hospitals, Near Death, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: “Is he going to die?” The doctor doesn’t hesitate. Probably she’s practiced this a lot. “His injuries are severe, and we may not know the full extent yet. But it’s not time to give up.”

Castiel's Breaking Point | @suckerfordeansfreckles Rating: General Word Count: 2315 Main Tags and Warnings: angst with a happy ending, marriage proposal, misunderstandings, emotional hurt Summary: Castiel has been keeping quiet for four weeks, when he finally runs out of patience. Four weeks of him shoving the tiny, velvety box out of the way when grabbing his socks, suppressing his anger about Dean’s apparent inability to find a good hiding place or to just think about who he shares his room- and sock drawer- with. Four weeks of him waiting for Dean to pop the big question. Four weeks of his mood progressively turning gloomier...

Shoe Box Verse | @lemonsorbae Rating: Explicit Word Count: 49252 Main Tags and Warnings: established relationship, fluff, domestic, au Summary: Tucked in the corner of a bustling, artsy college town, where it’s rarely bothered or given a second glance, rests a shoe box apartment. It’s decrepit, all red brick walls and squeaky wooden floorboards, but dirt cheap and bearable. It’s the kind of place that grows on you, that is as quaint as it is old, and it’s where Dean and Castiel (and Castiel’s cat) have been taking up residency for the past year or so while Dean finishes up carpentry school, and Castiel works on his art.

White Tulips | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1826 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, light angst, fluff Summary: “Finally, he had enough money for the ring as well as one more surprise for Dean. He was going to make their dream come true.”

College woes | @breathingdestiel Rating: Mature Word Count: 1420 Main Tags and Warnings: college au, fluff Summary: Dean annoys Cas by listening to one song on repeat for hours. Fortunately, he finds a way to apologize.

Whatever It Takes | @cr-noble-writes Rating: No Rating Word Count: 5056 Main Tags and Warnings: angst, no happy ending, canonverse, injured!Cas, human!Cas Summary: Cas gets hit by a car and ends up in a coma. Dean will do anything to make sure he can tell his boyfriend he loves him at least once. Even if it costs him everything.

What's the Truth | @pherryt Rating: General Word Count: 8256 Main Tags and Warnings: Sci Fi AU, Android AU, Android!Cas, Secrets, Explosions, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, android phobia, Accident in space Summary: Dean has never made a secret of his hatred for AI's - especially androids. His whole world is turned on it's edge when he finds out Cas has been hiding something big from him since they met... and before he can even come to terms with it, he almost loses Cas for good.

Long Exposure | @saltnhalo Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7581 Main Tags and Warnings: Established relationship, Dom/sub undertones, Dom Cas, sub Dean, photography, nude modelling Summary: Nude model wanted for erotic photoshoot. All photographs will only be submitted for assessment at approval of model. Males and females welcome – must be willing to take directions. All photography will be undertaken in a safe studio, and at the pace and comfort of the model. Payment of $100 for two hours of work. Tear off a number if interested.

Surprise | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: General Word Count: 4636 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Misunderstandings, Marriage Proposal Summary: In which Castiel (kinda accidentally) proposes and Dean doesn't know how to deal with it.

I'm the Only | @DesiraeLovesDestiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25121 Main Tags and Warnings: Tattoo artist Castiel/Professor Dean, Geek Dean, Established relationship, Married Destiel, Insecure Dean, Experienced Castiel, High School flashbacks, fluff, smut Summary: Dean cleared his throat. “It’s just, if she did something really bad, maybe Charlie didn’t tell me for a reason. Like, say you cheated on me. If there was the slightest chance I was going to forgive you, I probably wouldn’t tell Charlie about it because I wouldn’t want to taint her image of you.” “Woah, wait. You think about me cheating on you?” The outraged tone of Cas’ voice had Dean wanting to backtrack fast. “No, no you’re missing the point. I am just saying IF you cheated on me-” “If I cheated on you? If I cheated on my husband whom I have loved since high school, who I am utterly devoted to?” Cas’ face had pinkened in his ire and Dean wished he had kept his mouth shut. When Professor Winchester makes an offhand remark on the way to his sexy husband's tattoo convention, it sends them both on a trip down memory lane, back to High School, where popular goth, Castiel, made it his mission to win the heart of quiet, bookworm Dean. A story of blooming first love that grew into forever.

Need | @galaxystiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2361 Main Tags and Warnings: PWP, established relationship, mutual masturbation, dom/sub undertones, phone sex Summary: Dean is away on a hunt and Castiel takes the time to look around his bedroom. PWP.

The last straw | @angelneedshunter Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3899 Main Tags and Warnings: bickering, angry sex, domestic cas and dean, make up sex, Summary: Dean has been in a foul mood all day. He and Cas finally clash at dinner.

From The Outside | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: General Word Count: 10338 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, POV Outsider Summary: Six people. Six different points of view. And only one conclusion. (The progress of Dean and Castiel's relationship looked at from the outside.)

On The Inner Workings Of Non-Angels | @babybluecas Rating: Mature Word Count: 39092 Main Tags and Warnings: canon divergent, fluff and angst, domestic, fallen!cas Summary: The way it began couldn’t get more cliché: Dean kissing Cas in the rain as they turned their ‘goodbye’ into a bittersweet ‘see you soon.’ Three years later, Dean can hardly believe what his life has become: he’s a happy civilian, shacked up in the bunker with Cas. The whole messed up world seems to have left them alone, at last, and the worst things that ever happen to Dean are the rom-com marathons his better half tortures him with. Even Sam’s living his dream, back in law school. A true happily ever after for all. The problem is that those, in Dean’s experience, don’t last forever. So when Cas starts acting suspicious, with strange phone calls and daydreams and the walls of yellowed books rising around him, Dean has a full right to be worried. He’s no longer sure he could handle their perfect, little world falling apart. But Cas, of course, says everything’s fine.

Sick Dick | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 1557 Main Tags and Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, sick fic, Fallen Angel Castiel, Sick Castiel Summary: Castiel had plans for Valentine's day. He was going to do the full human experience and show his appreciation for Dean. His immune system had other ideas.

Drop the Act | @mattzerella-sticks Rating: Mature Word Count: 3564 Main Tags and Warnings: Oblivious Sam Winchester, Human Castiel, Post-Canon, Married Dean/Castiel, Sam Doesn't Know Summary: After defeating the Empty, Sam thought all the surprises were done for. Cas was saved, was human, and the Winchesters were a complete family unit doing what they do best: hunting monsters and saving people. He didn't account for his brother and angel best friend to manage one final surprise after coming back from a routine hunt in Florida. But that's what happens when you don't see what's been happening right in front of you for a year.

Permanent Ink | @zenmuppet Rating: General Word Count: 1447 Main Tags and Warnings: Human AU, tattooed!Cas, tattooed!Dean, marriage proposal Summary: Dean and Cas have been together for years, and they're very happy, but Dean has always said he's "not the marrying type". That's fine - Cas would be content to live with Dean forever. The thing is, Cas is a hopeless romantic, and he secretly wishes Dean would have a change of heart. Dean has known Cas was The One for years, and when he figured out that Cas really wants a wedding, he knew this was the one thing that would change Dean's lifelong opinion of marriage. He's had the ring for months, but he's been agonizing over the proposal. Dean wants it to be perfect; something personal to the two of them, intimate and romantic, but a grand gesture nonetheless. He’s come up with some great ideas, but discarded every one of them, so far.

Take You To The Country | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 18987 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Historical, Propositions, Eloping, Newspapers, Fluff, Romance, Forbidden Love, Misunderstandings, Pining, First Kiss, Castiel and Dean in Love, Established Relationship, Running Away Together, Moving In Together, Cob Houses, Childhood Friends, Marriage Proposal, Businessman Dean, Farmer Dean, Emotional Dean, Bisexual Dean, Clockmaker Castiel, Autistic Castiel, Frustrated Sam, Protective Sam Summary: A Dean/Cas 1950s AU. Dean reads an elopement proposal in the town's local newspaper, written by some old soul in love with their best friend. He's mid-way through expressing to his brother how beautiful he finds it when Dean realises the proposal is for him.

What's a Hickey? | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1101 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Universe, Hickeys, Marking, Castiel & Sam Friendship, Fluff, Human Castiel, Relationship Reveal Summary: Sam and Cas have a conversation about hickeys. Specifically, about the one on Castiel's neck.

Something Familiar, Something Mundane | @waywardwilled Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1486 Main Tags and Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Major Character Death, Angst, Canon-Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship Summary: “I brought you some water.” Without opening his eyes, Dean felt for the glass and immediately dismissed it, placing it on the table beside his bed. His hand went to grab Cas’ wrist and needily brought the angel’s hand over his cheek. Cas let his hand cradle Dean’s face, almost instinctively passing his grace through Dean’s being, healing and ridding him of his pain. Dean let out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding until he felt the cold, refreshing grace course through him. It felt familiar. It felt like Cas.

To Be Dancing With You | @envydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1549 Main Tags and Warnings: 10th anniversary, lawyer!Cas, mechanic!Dean, Fluff, Dancing, Smidge Of Angst Summary: Castiel never comes home for their 10th Anniversary date so Dean goes to Cas' workplace to find him.

Take Me In Church | jscribbles (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3061 Main Tags and Warnings: blasphemy, church sex, spanking, mild sexy breath play, canon, tie-pulling Summary: Castiel is indifferent to where he is fucked and spanked, and doesn't quite care who hears him beg for it. A lovely, definitely completely innocent, virginal, totally-not-getting-a-one-way-ticket-to-hell fic about Cas' immediate need to be fucked by Dean in the middle of an empty Roman basilica, post-hunt.

#destiel #writersofdestiel #destielfanficnet #deancasfanficnet #destielfanfic #fanfic #supernatural #destiel trope collection #tropes #established relationship #2019

[galadrieljones]

that he may hold me by the hand: chapter 1

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason  

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes, Violence, and Sexual Content) 

Summary: After saving Albert from falling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph 

Chapter 1: Well, we are untamed.

It was a quiet evening, that night he ran into Arthur Morgan again out near Caliban’s Seat, just south of Valentine. Albert had been photographing eagles, or trying to, spouting off a real big game as he tripped off the ledge up there like a fucking fool. He should have died, showing off like that. Truth be told. But the outlaw—he rustled him back up the ledge, put him back on his feet, and dusted off his vest like nothing had happened at all. He was never flustered, this man, Arthur Morgan. He seemed untamed and yet quietly sewn around the edges. The seams were messy, but there they were, seams.

Reduced to a wilting version of his former self, Albert glanced over the ledge after his near-death experience. As usual, he placed himself in Mr. Morgan’s debt, charming with his song and show energy that had become, to him, second nature. Arthur was unconcerned with anything like debts. He just smiled. Albert looked up at the sky now where the sun was on its last legs in the west. He felt strange about leaving. The randomness had begun to stack up and was beginning to trigger inside of him some odd anxiety in which he wondered if he was ever going to see him again. “I’m—I’m sorry for all the trouble,” said Albert, straightening his hat, picking up his leather valise with the fraying handle. The tripod and the camera all gathered into his arms. He freed one hand, held it out for a shake. “Mr. Morgan. Perhaps—”

“I’m going into Valentine,” said Arthur. He shook Albert's hand, held it firm, then released him and lit a cigarette. He tipped his hat back a little so Albert could see his whole face. “I got a thing going with a buddy of mine. Told me to meet him at the auction yard, but that ain’t till morning. You wanna come, have a drink with me?”

Albert blinked. Sometimes he got hot, around the rim of his collar for no reason.

“It’s just an offer,” said Arthur, confident. He smoked. “I mean, if you’re headed that way.”

“Oh, right,” said Albert, shaking out his head a little, as if he had only just realized what he was being asked. “Yes,” he said. “You know, I haven’t made many friends here. The untamed country, it can be unforgiving, to say the least. Dreadfully lonely. A drink would be—it would be nice.”

“Good,” said Arthur, that half-smile. He tossed the cigarette, took Albert’s valise in a gentlemanly fashion, lashed it up on Albert’s horse then hopped up to the saddle of his own. “Come on. Get the rest of that stuff on your horse, and follow me.”

“Okay.”

A molten, muddy town, Valentine welcomed them. Its name alone was sweet, like an invitation. Though neither of them thought of that at the time. Life is sometimes full of feelings that we do not know we feel until we're already inside them, captives to our own ignorance.

“It’s kind of good,” said Arthur, taking a seat at a booth by the window, “meeting on purpose for once, don’t you think?”

“I do,” said Albert, sitting across from him. He still had his valise which seemed home to all of his earthly goods, but he had left the rest of it all outside on his horse, which they could see through the window. “I very much do. I've never been terribly charming, I'm afraid. I don't find myself forging many friendships.”

"You charm just fine," said Arthur, settling in. "And I wouldn't worry about forging too many friendships, Mr. Mason. In my experience, one or two will suffice."

Albert seemed to find this comforting.

Arthur set a toothpick between his teeth then, leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “So, where are you from anyway?”

Albert removed his hat, straightened up in the booth. “I am from Philadelphia.”

“Philadelphia,” said Arthur. “Well, that is a place I can safely say I have never been.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like this,” said Albert. “This wide open country. It’s very…constricted. There are walls on all sides it seems. Pressing in.”

“And you don’t like walls.”

“No, sir. Well, I mean, I am not opposed to walls. But in a more philosophical sense, no, I do not like walls.”

“Me neither,” said Arthur. He gestured for the bartender, snapped his fingers and was immediately catered to.

“What’ll it be?” shouted that bartender, wise to Arthur by now, shining up a glass behind the counter.

“A whiskey for me,” said Arthur. "Make it a double. And, uh—” He looked at Albert. “What do you want, Mr. Mason?”

“Uh, gin, perhaps?”

“And a gin. And do that one up nice, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur returned his focus now, chewing that toothpick.

“What does that mean?” said Albert. “Do it up nice?”

“Ah, I just meant, you ain’t the rough sort, Mr. Mason. Straight-up don’t really seem like your style. He’ll put a little mint leaf in there for you. Maybe sweeten it up a bit.”

“Gin with mint and sugar?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“It sounds good,” said Albert, nodding. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They sat for a little while. There were conversations everywhere in the saloon, the smell of liquor like ribbons, wrapping all around and inside. Arthur had his hands folded on the table now, gazing out the window. A coach went by, pulling a whole load of timber. The man driving was holding a lantern that sort of dangled, and he was shouting for the horses to pull steady through the mud.

“Where are you from, Mr. Morgan?" said Albert.

This sort of yanked him back into the moment. He looked back at Albert who was a patient man. "Sorry?" said Arthur.

“Did I startle you? I just asked where you were from.”

“Oh,” said Arthur, a little clumsy feeling. “Apologies.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I think I was born somewhere in northern Nebraska,” said Arthur. “Whereabouts, at least. My ma and pa set out on the Oregon Trail when I was four or five? I ain’t got much memory of that.”

“The Oregon Trail?” said Albert. “Fascinating.”

“I’m sure it was, in some respects.”

“Albeit difficult, I surmise.” Albert removed his hat, set it on the booth beside him. “For your mother especially. I can't imagine that being an easy journey, particularly when you've got a small child. Is she still alive, your mother?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. She passed when I was nine years old. We was up in Oregon when she got sick.”

“Oh,” said Albert, softening, becoming almost transparent, like a ghost. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” said Arthur. “It’s a more or less typical thing to ask. And that's a long time ago. I was a kid.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose.”

The bartender came over then with their drinks. They toasted. “How is it?” said Arthur.

“Very good. Thank you, sir.”

“So where you living?” said Arthur, sipping his whiskey. “You must have a room, or a place around here somewhere.”

“Well, I’ve camped some.”

Arthur chuckled at this. “You? Camping?”

Albert laughed as well, canny to this particular predicament of heroics and protection and how it had become commonplace in the fabric of their friendship. He was not offended. “I’ll have you know, good sir, I’m not quite as hapless as I may seem,” he said. “Of course, I’m not you. That is well-established. I cannot live meaningfully off the land for any sustained period of time. I am far from a...piece of its beauty, if you will. But I do my best.”

Arthur gazed at him. A man started playing a little tune on the piano, and some of the saloon girls were singing along. “You’re not camping near no gator nests, I hope.”

Albert shook his head, amused. “No, no. Of course not. I have learned something these past months. But speaking of predators, I do have a room, down in St. Denis, over the high saloon there. They’ll rent by the week if they like you.”

“And they like you, Mr. Mason?”

“Well.” He blushed. “Apparently. Though I've no idea why.”

“Please.” Arthur took a long drink. “Why St. Denis?” he said. “I thought you said you didn’t like walls, in a philosophical sense.”

“I don’t,” said Albert. “That’s just where the train dropped me off. Tonight I suppose I’ll get a room here, in Valentine. I’ve stayed at the hotel once or twice.” He took some of his gin, tapped his fingers on the table. He had a little bit of sun burn on his face, Arthur noticed. Albert picked up his hat off the bench and set it on the table, as if to keep an eye on it, and then he wiped his forehead with a gold handkerchief from his pocket. “It sure is warm in here.”

“Little bit,” said Arthur.

“Where do you live, Mr. Morgan?”

“Please. Just call me Arthur.”

“Right,” said Albert. “Where do you live, Arthur?”

“All over,” said Arthur. “My gang—I travel with, a gang of sorts—we got a sort of big old camp, not far from here.”

“You live nearby?”

“For now.”

“I see,” said Albert, nodding. “You know, I’ve thought of you often, Arthur.” He looked up, a starry man. The way he talked sometimes, it was just like storytelling. “I’ve seen you enough times now, out in this wilderness. You live a life of your own inside my foolish memory. But there, you’re more a character than a man. So far, I mean. Though I expect that will change.”

“A character?”

“Yes,” said Albert. “Like a hero from the storied wilds of the west. Almost Byronic. Always seeming to be there right when the damsel is about to accidentally kill herself with her hubris.”

Arthur laughed at this. “Now, I've read Byron,” he said. "I think you're either flattering me or insulting me, Mr. Mason."

“It’s just Albert,” he said, smiling down into his drink. “Al, if you’re feeling cheeky. And I would never insult you. But don’t mind me. I grow sentimental with alcohol.”

“Good men always do in my experience,” said Arthur.

“Sometimes I miss the walls back home," said Albert, a little subdued. "Their absence, it makes me fearful. Like I’m falling forever, and there will be nothing there to catch me. I wish I weren't so sheltered. The uncertainty, it makes me babble.”

“You got a family?” said Arthur.

Albert shook his head. He finished his drink. Arthur snapped his fingers, silently beckoned the bartender for a refill.

“I never married,” said Albert. “Never had the time. Then again, I'm only thirty. My mother, she’s still alive. I suppose that's family enough. She writes me letters, telling me about her goings around the town. She’s a dreadful gossip. But a good woman. She may be moving to California soon.”

”California? Whereabouts?”

”Her brother lives in a cabin near Monterey, in a charming township called Carmel-by-the-Sea.”

”Carmel,” said Arthur. He had never been there, but he'd heard of it. It made him think of fishermen. “Yeah, I know that place.”

“She was always proud of me,” said Arthur. “My dear gossip of a mother. She helped put me through school, even after father died.” He nodded to himself. The bartender came by to refill his gin drink. “Thank you, sir,” Albert said.

“No problem,” said the bartender and went away.

“She sounds real nice,” said Arthur, smiling. He wasn't surprised by Albert's age. That seemed right. “It’s nice that she helped you.”

“I haven’t seen her in a couple of years,” said Albert, drinking. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you got a wife? A family?”

Arthur sighed, shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Arthur laughed, mostly at himself. “Lord knows I’ve tried,” he said. “Believe me. I’ve had my share of chances.” He was turning a coin in his fingers now, from his pocket.

"Well, you can't be but what, thirty-five?"

Arthur studied him. "Pretty close."

"There's still time. If it's what you want."

Arthur found this amusing. “I do miss her sometimes. But let’s just say it ain’t worth the headache.”

“How come?”

“She’s—well, she’s a little like you.” He smiled. “I don’t mean the headache part. I mean that she’s above my station. Our inequalities manifested in any number of detestable ways, drove us apart. It wasn’t never gonna work. She’s too good for me. ”

“I’m not too good for you,” said Albert. “Don’t be silly, Arthur. And I’m sorry, that it didn’t work out.”

Arthur saw the ways his face flickered, an optimist. He smiled at Albert but he did not agree with his former claim. “Thank you.”

”Don’t mention it.”

“When will you be going back to Philadelphia?” he said.

“Not for several months, at least,” said Albert. “Truth be told, my timeline is a bit of a shit show. Pardon my language. I haven’t gotten nearly enough of what I came for.”

“Oh yeah? What are you still missing?”

“A great deal,” said Albert, seeming filled with resolve all of a sudden. Maybe it was the booze. “Perhaps you could help me. I’m on the search for black bear.”

“Black bear?” said Arthur. “I know a couple good spots for finding black bear.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well,” said Albert. “Perhaps we could meet again, sometime soon. Go…bear hunting, if you will. I don’t mean bear-shooting. No, of course not. I mean, unless they try to eat me. I just mean—well you know what I mean by now.”

Arthur smirked, just a little bit. “Yeah, I do.”

Albert straightened up with his elbows off the table, looking relieved. “Where are the black bear?" he said. "I thought I read in my atlas that west of Annesburg was a good spot.”

"Yeah, a good spot if you wanna get ambushed by hill people who'd fancy sucking your eyeballs out through a straw."

It was like being pitched straight off a cliff. Albert looked up from where he had been fussing with the buttons on his sleeve. "Good heavens. Hill people?"

"You stick with me, Mr. Mason," said Arthur, taking a long drink. "I'll get you some black bear, but considering your luck, I think we should avoid the Roanoke Valley."

"Whatever you say."

“Will you be heading back to St. Denis?” said Arthur.

“Tomorrow, yes,” Albert said. “I have a meeting there, with a gallery owner.”

“A gallery?” said Arthur, seriously. “They gonna show your photos?”

“I hope so,” said Albert.

“That’s wonderful.”

“Indeed. Though it's all very cut throat and unclear, and I haven’t got my hopes up.”

They finished up their drinks after that, listening to the piano. The bar was getting fuller, men standing shoulder to shoulder and the occasional woman, fanning herself at the bar. Neither Albert nor Arthur seemed very willing to drink any more.

“Well,” said Albert after a little while. “I suppose I should be going. The train out of here is very early in the morning.”

“Yeah, I should be going, too,” said Arthur.

"Will you head back to your camp, or...?"

"Maybe," said Arthur. "Or I might just set up shop in the hills till morning."

"You mean, sleep under the stars?"

"Sure."

"Well," said Albert. "I do envy you your casual relationship with nature. You know I always have."

"You're too kind to me," said Arthur, giving in a little. It was easy, which surprised him. Arthur thought it felt vaguely like looking in a mirror that could reflect another universe. He left the coin on the table for the bartender. Then he went up to settle whatever there was on his tab. Albert had put on his hat and was waiting for him at the door.

Outside, the night was cool. The sky was big and so clear you could see the whole galaxy up there, spread out like buckshot. The streets were quiet, but there was some bustle. Always men moving in and out of these parts, working girls smoking. One of the girls said hello to Arthur, as he had seen her around before. Her name was Violet, and she was young and this always triggered inside him a sense of failure. He wanted to save her, but he had tried that sort of thing before. It was an old complex for Arthur, and by now he knew a selfish endeavor.

Arthur took the reins on Albert’s horse and lead her along, walking Albert over to the hotel. He kept his hat off the whole time. Albert held his valise with one hand by his side. Arthur tied up the old girl and patted her once behind the ear. “What’s your horse’s name,” he said.

“Martha,” said Albert. "After my late grandmother."

“Martha,” said Arthur, smiling. “That’s a nice name.”

“I think so. What about your horse. She’s a real beauty. Is that an Arabian?”

“Yes, sir,” said Arthur, gazing back to where she was tied up at the saloon. “Wild. I broke her myself. Found her up near Lake Isabella."

"Boy, that's far."

"You're telling me. She was so averse to me at first, I basically lived up there for two weeks, trying to get her to like me. It was grueling, but it worked.”

“That’s remarkable,” said Albert. “What is her name?”

“Amelia.”

Albert smiled. “Amelia.”

“You gonna be able to stay out of trouble, Albert?” joked Arthur, walking him up the stairs. “I mean, till I see you next.”

“Of course,” said Albert. “Or, I’ll try.”

“That would be good.”

“When will I see you next?” said Albert.

Arthur thought on it. There was a whole lot of moon out that night, illuminating their eyes. They stopped just short of the door. The hour was late and there was no one else in earshot. “Well, for black bear, I'd take you out to Big Valley.”

"Big Valley, in West Elizabeth?"

"Yes, sir. Beautiful country out there. I think you'll really like it."

“All right,” said Albert, seeming giddy all of a sudden. “Perhaps we could meet in Strawberry, in two weeks? That should give me enough time to get back to St. Denis, get my affairs in order with the gallery, perhaps write my mother again. She’s a bit of worrier.”

“Sounds good,” said Arthur, nodding. He thought that Albert's mother probably ought to worry, given the wayward tendencies of her son. “Two weeks. You wanna meet me at the hotel there? It's a dry town, but you can bribe the proprietor. He's got a speakeasy in the back."

"You're kidding."

"No, sir. Meet me there, in the middle of the day. How’s noon?”

“Noon is perfect.”

“Good,” said Arthur. He opened the door so that Albert could step inside. “It’s been a pleasure, Albert Mason.”

“For me as well, Arthur Morgan. I’ll see you in two weeks. In Strawberry. On purpose this time.”

“Two weeks.” Arthur patted him on the shoulder, gave him a two-finger salute. Albert did the same. It was a bit of an awkward gesture for him but truth be told Albert's particular brand of awkward gestures were endearing to Arthur. That whole man made him feel warmer, like he'd been heated by one whole degree from the inside. It was a trifle confusing, but Arthur was somewhat used to confusion in those days.

He rode his horse out of town about five miles and decided to camp on the river, rather than head back to Horseshoe. He felt like loneliness. He caught a fish and panfried it and ate it with his fingers. He drank water, and he drank more whiskey. Then he took out his journal. He lit the torch from his saddlebag, let it sit there, attracting moths, reminding him of that stagecoach in Valentine, pushing through the mud, and the fine evening he had spent. He didn't write much, but he did sketch a little. He drew Albert Mason, holding his valise and wearing his hat, waiting by the saloon double-doors. He also drew a picture of a mint leaf, floating in gin. On the opposite page, he wrote, I shall die a fool.

Arthur fell asleep flat on his back on his bedroll, too tired and drunk to build a tent. The world had been kind to Albert Mason. That was one very important thing that Arthur learned that night. The world had been kind, and this imbued him with some bright confidence, despite what he might have had you think, and his overall bumbling demeanor. Talking to him was a cleansing experience. It made Arthur remember things. It made him feel things, remember that he could want things. It reminded him that he was still young, and life was strange and full of welcome confusions, like this one.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #albert mason #arthur x albert #arthur morgan x albert mason #albthur #i would die for them #i finally just made the post #the banner is my own edit #that's my arthur #or #one of them #lol #this love story is going to be so romantic #i have never just written a straight up romance #i've always got all these other things in mind #but not this time. #this time it's just #them #that he would hold #<3

[dreamtimeagain]

...The center of the large courtyard had a white stone fountain with a large base. Walking paths cut across the green lawn leading from various alcoves to the fountain platform. A teenage girl in a pleated grey skirt walked slowly from one side of the clearing to the other, stepping cautiously around the pool at the bottom of the fountain, running her fingertips across the surface of the water.

There were other people walking around as well, but they were out of focus, except for a young man arriving in from the opposite side of the courtyard. The girl looked longingly at him, wanting to be noticed, but too scared to say a word. She was so convinced that he wouldn’t speak to her that she almost missed it when he did. She stopped just in front of him as he spoke, but the words were muffled, like from a long way off.

The girl played nervously with her hair as she smiled at him. Then a teacher with long black hair appeared suddenly from behind the fountain and spoke to her. The teacher greeted her cheerfully and announced that she was chosen for the leading role in the school play.

With the announcement, the guy she had been talking to started clapping and everyone else followed along, cheering and hollering, as the girl smiled. With a groan of annoyance, I stopped the scene, the sound instantly dying away as everyone froze in place. The idea of everyone cheering struck me as absurd, so I turned away all the onlookers before resuming. 

With the courtyard back to nromal, the girl just shyly nods and follows the teacher back into the building, glancing over her shoulder to watch as the guy turns away to persue different interests.

Inside the theater area is a large side room, brown shag carpet and matching brown walls dominate a long narrow space that is filled with dozens of old chairs stacked precariously in various piles. The girl sets her light blue backpack down, on the old dusty cusion of one of the chairs on a shorter stack, and leaves through a set of red curtains on the far end. 

in an instant she returns, though to her several hours have passed, She has a small booklet of paper in her hand and her eyes look exhausted, but cheerful. That is until she sees a large wad of upchucked cat fur has been left on top of her backpack. it is still fairly fresh and she is upset because she cannot open her bag to get to her costume.

I don’t want to watch some cliche’d moment of woe as the obvious protagonist faces some rediculously simply problem, so I immediatley start looking around the room for paper towels to clean up the mess for her. 

As I finish wiping off the last of the residue, and the girl opens her bag to pull out a white robe, I can hear a swell of voices coming from the adjacent auditorium as the crowd filters in for opening night of the performance. 

Then, as the girl pulls on the last of her costume pieces, the black haired teacher comes in past the red curtains and immedately rushes the girl past her, turning to me and demanding to know what i’m doing backstage, her voice a harsh whisper so as to be unheard by the crowd next door. 

Instead of answering, I tell her that I am late for work, and turn to walk away, my feet begining to click audibly as I stroll accross the cream tiled floor twards my office. Down the long and seemingly never ending hallway, past hundreds of identical wooden doors with black frames, I reach out and grab the handle of one, convinced that it is mine, even though it looks like all the rest. 

Then my phone chimes, and I look down to see that someone has sent me a weblink. When I select it, it takes me to a flyer announcing the opening night of the play I just left. Annoyed that I’m being dragged back into that scene, I speak aloud, telling whatever was listening that they would have to be more convinving than that.

Suddenly the face of the girl appears as the leading role on the flyer, and I recognize her as a child I know, long brown hair framing a rosy cheeked face. and now I am happy to attend, to support and cheer her on.

I open the office door, beyond which is a small dark room, just long enough to grab a black jacket from behind the door, and a pink box of dounuts from the desk. I close it and turn back to the entrance to the building, humming happily as I go.

I’m convinved that the school will be easy to reach, just down the street, so I walk past my car and just keep strolling down the main road, homely brick buildings lining both sides. There is only a little bit of traffic, but the sidewalk starts to narrow, so I have to step onto the asphalt to continue. 

Then, ahead of me, a large brick building with dark blue trim and a flagpole out front comes into view, and I jog quickly to cross the street, up the warm colored concrete steps and to the side door of the theater. 

I am late, probably too late to attend the performance itself, but I know she will be out soon, and I want to congratulate her. The dougnuts in my hands have shifted into a pack of roses, little white bits of baby’s breath standing out agaisnt the deep red petals. 

Then the theater lets out, and suddenly I am surrounded by hundreds of students and parents, all bustling about trying to find friends or transportation. I look around but cannot see anyone I know, so I continue to stand at the doorway, waiting.

Someone calls my name, and I turn to see a man with a large beard strolling up to the building, an older woman wih black hair following in his wake. I am immediately annoyed, and angrily point out to noone that they aren’t supposed to be here yet.

As the man walks past me, he reaches the side of the building and picks up a roll of blue tape while the woman opens some cans of paint. I tell him again that he’s not supposed to be here yet, and he glances up at me for a moment before returning to placing the tape in long strips along the sidewalk.

He tells me to relax, he’s jsut going to help them paint the stone wall really quick, then he will head back to where he belongs. As I watch, the tape he has haphazardly placed is starting to peel up in several spots, so I huff and take the roll from him. 

At this rate he won’t finish in time, so I start taping off the sections for him. With the stone fully sectioned off, I turn to the woman with the paint and announce loudly that she will have to do the rest on her own, because I wasn’t going to let the man get stuck here when I leave.

I turn to look at him, as he smiles warmly at me and waves with his fingers. Just as he tells me he will be waiting, I wave my oustretched arm infront of me, and he vanishes, back to the far side.

The woman continues painting as she speaks up, telling me that it’s my own fault that I made the school too far away for him to get there by himself. I snap at her that there’s plently of easy routes there, and she should know better than to drag him out of place.

I turn away from the woman and in an instant I am back at the office building. This time I am determined to show the both of them that the distance is easily walked, and that there’s no reason to drive there. I briskly walk out the front door and back down the street.

As I walk, the sidewalk narrows again, except this time the buildings also grow taller, and closer together, reaching like skyscrapers up into the clouds. I begin walking faster, glancing around occasionally to make sure i’m not in the way of traffic, and still determined to prove a point that I’ve kind of lost control of.

I begin to jog to keep uo with the strangely transforming city, and I can see glimpses of the school grounds past the brick structures, some of which have narrowed as they’ve grown, looking more and more like tall trees in a densly packed forest. 

By now I am running, trying to get to the school as the road continues to twist and turn in unpredictable ways. Suddenly, I accidentally run straight up the side of a brick building that had slipped in front of me when I was distracted. I easily scale several floors before I stop and turn around. 

This is not the way to the school and I am annoyed that the buildings won’t get out of my way. I backtrack all the way to the street again, and this time I shout at the buildings to knock off their shenanigans. 

Then the road in front of me easily leads directly back to the school, and the theater, as if the building had been next to the office the whole time. I jog up the steps and look around at the now empty lot. The woman is gone, though her freshly painted stone wall is there, proof that she had finished her task.

I stop, my hands on my hips, and glance around, looking for somone. Anyone. Finally I decide that enough is enough, I don’t feel like being annoyed by this any further.

...Then I woke up.

#dream #lucid dreaming

[thelionshoarde]

???????

because i am actually 100% an idiot, i’ve managed to fail at finishing ANYTHING for obiyukimadness because i started writing four fics for it plus got distracted writing other nonchallenge fic and everyone should know by now how crap i am at deadlines and focusing so while i have like 12k+ of prose by this point and copious amounts of delirious notes NOTHING TO ACTUALLY PUT UP FOR REALS.

so like here have these possible opening scenes instead???

FEATURING: that werewolf one, aka, wherein Hymn has been in the Teen Wolf fandom too long and it was only a matter of time before she attempted some fucked up loosely based version of that for FOUND FAMILY (warning, some violence and kidnapping and vulgar language, o my)

and ALSO FEATURING: what happens when Hymn reads a stupidly excellent YoI pokemon!au and CANNOT RESIST the siren call because she is a nerd, okay, a nerd, but also doesn’t actually care a lick about the one bed trope and got carried away instead with RIVALRY AS COURTSHIP (warning, excess of capitalization, o no)

and yes, you may expect excerpts from me tomorrow for the accidental soulbond and for undercover as lovers (which, as it so happens, will also include the “shut up kiss” if i ever finish writing it HAHAHAHA)

There was, of course, a fucking knife sticking out of his side.

Steel ground against the bone of his lowest rib, and with every breath the paper-thin edge slit his skin open anew. His flesh tried to heal as quickly as it was damaged, going sore and tender and almost puckered around it, as though his flesh would just grow up around the blade if only it could. (That had happened, once, sort of. A bullet had lodged itself just below his shoulder blade where he couldn’t quite reach to claw it out, and his body had decided to heal over the entrance wound before it had finished expelling it, and hadn’t that been a bloody wonderful Wednesday morning.)

“I feel like this is a little uncalled for,” Obi tried, keeping the strain out of his voice with practice, if not ease.

At the top of the spell -- taped onto the cement floor of the emptied warehouse with blue painter’s tape, which, really, Obi kind of appreciated that sort of forethought; easy enough to peel back off if the angle wasn’t quite right -- the witch narrowed his eyes at Obi, tilting his head in thought.

“No,” he decided, returning back to his spell book. “The unicorn hair rope might be a little overkill, I admit, but safety is very important. Uh. My safety, I mean. No reason to risk it, right?”

“Right,” breathed Obi. “Which, I mean: sure, I can see your point. But also: fuck you.”

The witch just shrugged his shoulders.

A little dizzy from blood loss, Obi swayed where he stood, the unicorn hair rope tight about his wrists and ankles, hobbling him. A thin line of mountain ash within the spell array surrounded him, and, honestly, Obi was tired enough that he just sort of leaned against it with his shoulder. The buzzing, invisible barrier rattled his teeth a little, but it was better than having to keep his knees locked for even a second longer.

“Is that a pizza stain on your stupid sweat pants?” Obi asked, blinking sweat from his lashes.

“College is rough, my man. Don’t judge.”

Obi wouldn’t know. He hadn’t actually finished high school, after all, before he’d fled his pack and gone on the run, and the world was not the most pleasant place for omegas to stand still in. Standing still got you caught.

Then again, he hadn’t been standing still when he ran right into this asshole’s trap.

“Hey,” Obi said, eventually. “Got any more pizza? I’m starving.”

As if he’d planned it, his stomach growled. The knife in his side quivered in punctuation.

*

Obi woke up when a window shattered.

No, correction: Obi jolted awake, sending fresh stabs of pain through his side and joints and fevered head, when all of the windows shattered simultaneously. The sudden racket hurt his ears, like the shards were pressing right on inside, sharp and jagged and piercing.

“Wha --” slurred the witch, jerking his head up from where he’d had his cheek plastered against the open pages of his book at the folding table he’d set up a few yards away. Looked like Obi wasn’t the only one who had gone in for a cat nap.

“-- the hell?”

“Oh, good! You’re still alive,” said a beautiful brunette in half-shift from where she’d dropped down directly behind the still-seated witch, her words mangled just slightly by the lethal fangs protruding from behind her plush red lips. “We’d taken bets, you know.”

“No,” Obi managed to garble out helpfully, “I didn’t know. Thank you for clearing that up for me though. Miss...?”

Within his chest Obi’s heart was pounding so loudly it was nearly all he could discern. Were those additional heartbeats? How many? How many wolves? Exactly how fucked was Obi, now, and was it the frying pan and into the fire, or backwards?

Shit, he really wished weren’t naked.

“Huh,” said a light baritone from the shadows to Obi’s left. “Pretty talkative for someone ripe for virgin sacrifice."

“Excuse you," Obi protested, tilting against the mountain ash barrier a little to get an angle to see --

Jesus wept, why were these wolves so fucking attractive?

and now: POKEMONS

Flopped out in the meadows of Floaroma Town, Shirayuki thought she might grow roots, like the flowers, if she stayed lazing about any longer.

But her feet had only just stopped hurting all the time, and she was tired of being hungry, and sore, and lost. Tired of being tired all the time. And Floaroma was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. After her fifth defeat at Pastoria Gym Shirayuki honestly had not been able to handle the embarrassment of another failed attempt, all right, and Floaroma Town seemed a perfect place to go and lick her wounds in peace.

Three weeks later, with a part time job at Pick a Peck of Colors and a cheap room at a nearby Hotel, Shirayuki didn’t mind if she grew roots, became a flower, and just drifted beneath the sun and the sky, watching the clouds. Really, it seemed a better plan than her current one: three badges in four years was more than just a little embarrassing, after all.

Groaning, her stomach twisting itself into knots of anxiety and frustration, Shirayuki groped about for the pastry bag of Spicy Poffins.

Sure, she’d technically bought them for her Pokémon, but stress eating was a real thing, and she’d already eaten all of her lunch and still had another half-hour to kill before she had to be back a the flower shop. Besides, no one was here to judge. Except Staravia, who fluttered onto her knee and cocked her head in inquiry.

“No, no,” Shirayuki explained between bites of spicy, overly-seasoned pastry. “You don’t like these. We’ve tried, remember? These are for --”

She nearly bit her own tongue in her sudden reluctance to mention Turtwig. As her starter Pokémon, he had been with her for all four, agonizing years. It was the worst kind of betrayal that his pokéball remained in her room, shoved into a pocket of her bag. But he was too sharp a reminder of all her failures. The Poffins had been an apology -- one she was apparently too much a coward to actually give.

The Poffin went down her throat in a sticky, uncomfortable slide.

“You’re gonna break my knee cap,” Shirayuki muttered, looking back to the sky before shutting her eyes. “You’re too heavy, Staravia.”

With a gentle chirrup, Staravia side-stepped further up Shriayuki’s leg, all 30lbs of her. Shirayuki winced, and reached for another Poffin as she felt Staravia’s talons dig momentarily into her leggings before releasing, apparently content to watch her Trainer eat food meant for Pokémon. Shirayuki wished she was a Pokémon. Surely it would be easier than being who she was; than dealing with who she was supposed to be.

She was so involved with her own internal pity party, that Shirayuki missed the sound of footsteps through the flowers, didn’t notice how the orangey-red glow of the sun through her eyelids disappeared as someone leaned over her head. Didn’t notice anything at all until she felt a smooth, hard surface press gently against her forehead.

Eyes fluttering open, startled, Shirayuki nearly choked on her Poffin.

Above her, instead of a sunny, cloud-strewn sky, was the face of a dark-haired, teenage boy. Tan and lanky, with too-long limbs and dirty, travel-stained clothes, he was maybe older than Shirayuki’s fifteen years, but maybe not. The lop-sided grin made it hard to tell, and so did the fact that Shirayuki was looking at him upside down.

He was bent over her, arm outstretched to press a -- a pokéball -- against her forehead. Shirayuki could feel the faint grooves of the locking mechanism against the skin of her forehead. Halfway down his jacket sleeve was a Pachirisu, wriggling its little nose hopefully at the now-squashed Poffin clutched in Shirayuki’s hand.

“Ahh!” said Shirayuki, crumbs flying.

“Sorry,” the stranger laughed, leaning back and taking the pokéball with him. The Pachirisu ran down his arm, twining about his knobby wrist, chittering at Shirayuki. The boy waved the pokéball and Pachirisu at her as though in explanation. “I had to check. You are eating Poffins, after all. A thing usually reserved for pokémon.”

Shirayuki spluttered. “You thought I was a pokémon?!”

“Well, no. Not really. But it was pretty funny, don’t you think?”

Now would be a good time for Palkia to take pity on her, rip open a hole in space, and let her crawl through it to any where else.

nothing is sacred, i have ruined it all \o/

#ans #obiyuki #fic progress #my writing #i do weird things #and do them stupidly #woohoo! #my fic #stuff #gdi y

[curious-minx]

A simple man accidentally joins Qanon.

I am looking for the trunklike opening of a cavern that is  promising a hermitage of monks. Instead, I accidentally got recruited by Qanon. 

I only ended up with them because I thought the rough looking recruiter woman with desperate destruction in her eyes said “Qui-Gon Jinn.” He is a real big influence on my overall look. The recruiter grabbed me by the pip of my ponytail and gave me a fierce rub down. She did not manage to extract anything from me because she wasn’t looking for anything special for me, I was basically cornmeal to her. A necessary means to an end. I try to quickly terminate my contract with the Qanoners, I’m a goner.

There is no mesh bag thrown over your head. I watch myself get dragged and kidnapped. I stand outside of myself and spit on myself. I hope I rot in Qanon mud club basement for all I care. Alas, I am very much chained to my corporeal form and rejoin back inside my raging crunching bones being dragged across an empty gymnasium. Old prom decorations are adorning the rafters; the apparent theme is Trapped In The Closet. This dates the decorations as a typical early 00’s macro-aggression. What do these people want with me? I try to remember all of the rest of the who’s, why’s, what and how I should be trying to grasp at as I continue to be dragged onwards and onwards. How large can the expanse of this gym be? Every time it looks like I am approaching a halfway full court circle the room seems to grow further in distance. A very roomy and interactive treadmill.

My assailant snaps her head around and with a tension in her throat, she croaks, “Aren’t you going to put up a fight?”

“I’ve been dragged longer.” I respond. I am not trying to be cheeky. I am stating a clear fact, but she begins dragging me faster and faster. The gymnasium becomes a bleak parking lot full of abandoned cars full of bloody empty car seats and cabbage patch doll sitting on top of smashed dash boards. The texture of the ground changes from glossy and buffed gymnasium wood flooring into typical pavement. I am starting to bleed more than I am comfortable with.

“Alright I give. Please stop. Enough.”

“Look we’ve reached our hide-out. You’ve passed, you’re a real Qtie.”

“You don’t call yourselves that.”

“Fake news to you too.” This woman with her exacting haircut sounds really tired. Maybe a tad attention starved as well. I don’t feel any sexual pleasure being dragged and humiliated by her, I just feel like she really needs a win. This is certainly not the forested idyllic hermitage haven where I could be with men who made soap and floral craft beer. I had to get out of here. The only way down is up.

“I could use a doctor. Are there any any Qute doctors.”

“No one reveals their civilian lives here. Cut that shit out. Throw those lives away when you commune with Q.”

Quetzalcoatl have mercy on my soul. I am starting to remember a vague idea of what these Qanon people about. I have been taking sketch comedy writing classes and people would occasionally mention these group. I don’t see how these people are funny anymore. These people are monsters. I hate being surrounded by only white people. And as my captor cum guide peels back the security layers of bricks and mortar sealing away their underground den I try to appreciate the outside as much as possible. I am not sure if the sky is still a simulation, but the sky is disappointing tonight. There are some parts of the country that are like this. Rarely if ever a nice night sky to look up. Clearly these safety sign orange skies add up to a lot of restless white supremacists, apparently. These people always want so many excuses for their behavior.

What kind of people are Qanon? They are not hicks. They carry glints of rolodex watches and sweaty pit stained polos. I know which way the khaki blows and it’s directly into my stake. I’m aiming for where it really hurts. I have no stake, I only have my torn and bloodied office attire and swelling inner violence. The sex cult accusations robbed me of my trust of Tom Hanks and for that they must pay. A man inside of a muscular blow up suit in the shape of a gimplike strongman is wheeled out onto stage. The woman who was dragging me tenderly injects his arm with a substance in the manner of heroin. That is if heroin is a slightly glowing gooey substance. A wet and warbling voice sputters out from inside of the man inside of the man.

“War! All out full blown war. There is no other option.”

“Yes Q!” mummers and sputters out the rest of the room. No one is saying the letter with bravado, everyone is saying it like a dirty secret for them and them alone.

A large man with the odor of bleach wearing nothing but overalls is carrying a steel suitcase and has come up to stand next to Q. Q begins to sputter and groan. The woman has begun strapping him to a chair, wrapping him so tightly that his arms immediately bruise and purple. The man opens the suitcase and begins rapidly assembling a preteen girl. The sort of tomboyish puckish preteen girl with a slight gap and whistle between her teeth, she is adorable or at least she becomes adorable once the the man snaps her head into place.

“Sp-sp-sp-spppppeak!” Q burbles he sounds like he is swallowing his own tongue back into his pinpoint shaped head.

“This man touched me! This man raped me! This woman tried to abort me! This woman helped child predators. This woman is a child predator. This man fucked me every which way. I no longer know what’s real anymore. What am I? This is so fucked up man! I’m losing my mind!” The preteen girl begins to scream and sob. With every accusation thrown out Q’s two main  assistants have thrown out portraits of Bill Clinton, Bill Gates,  AOC, Judy Blume, Oprah, and Paul Rudd. The rest of the room begins whispering the letter Q all over again, this time more confident.

Q’s two assistance look like they are going to come in for a group hug with the girl and they do, but when the man and woman meet together the girl immediately collapses into a pile of limbs. The suitcase closes and the man scurries off like a child during a panty raid. The woman begins scanning the room while she smashes chapstick across her trembling lips. Despite knowing exactly where I am standing because I have been firmly planted and transfixed in rictus horror as I try processing this spectacle she makes a big showcase with her eyes when gaze bores into me. I try to do the look side to side, “Who, me?” routine but two sausage fingered women with ballcaps pulled over their faces push me from behind and up onto the stage with Q.

“How do you do Qties and of course you too Q?”

“You don’t speak to Q!” Says the woman who is now starting to blend and blur together with the rest of these agitated pale faces. As I decent white person I can only handle being in the approximate of so many white people, the saturation point has been completely shattered.

I swear I see a greasy wide, chode tongue lick the rubber lips in the depths of Q’s costume. The suit begins squeaking and falls deflated onto the ground. There is no trace of the man called Q. I appreciate a good vanishing act by trying to throw up. The woman acts like she’s mad at me like I am some sort of noble house cat regurgitating on her Pendleton, she’s crowding up at me and getting in my face. She speaks, her breath smells like fuel.

“Your lucky he likes you fella. We don’t do this for all the boys.” Of course, the bleach man comes back this time reeking of chlorine as well. He’s riding a rolling dentist chair using his leg to push him along like a scooter. He reaches the lip of the stage and without any effort sweeps the dental operatory chair onto the stage as well. I am not liking where this is going and try to make a break for what I believe to be the exit.

The man scoops me in his wretched hairless and freckled arms.“Hold up. Q likes you.”

“There is no doubt that he likes him. Q accepts everyone who looks a little bit like Jesus.” The once tired woman now suddenly seems completely rejuvenated. The puffy bags under her eyes are glistening. The joys of dentistry. She pulls out a completely golden drill. A satin sheen gold that looks like no spray can job. My head is held back and my tooth is extracted and held up under the expectation. The rest of the crowd of Qties have more or less dispersed and are murmuring to one another over hunched over rings of phone lights. The jukebox plays Ted Nugent with pitched and slow down vocals to fit the anonymous motif.

Bleach and chlorine man takes my tooth and skips off in the manner of a fairy tale character but returns quickly this time. He is still carrying something but his hand is cupped and I cannot see if it’s my tooth.

“You’ve grown awfully quiet. Are you taking it all in? Do you see what this is truly all about?”

“Yeah you guys have a real serious project going on. This seems like an immense job. I want to help out in any way I can.”

“You won’t. You’ll forget you ever saw this place. You’re lucky to make it out alive, luckier still to not end up on a sex offender registry. Q has different plans for you. Now go follow the trail of innocent blood and open your mouth.”

“Again?” As I say this the woman sprays me with a slightly acidic and fizzy tasting spritz that makes the roof of my mouth feel dense. The feeling gradually dissipates as I stumble down through the gallery of wretches and human refuse that is populating the joint. Sure some of these people probably have legitimate struggles and a hard working background, but there’s a lot of corrupted doughiness to go around. Not chubby. Chubby people are full of joy and adventure, this was more of a kind of excessive candle wax flesh coating these people, mostly the men. The women were of more stripes. Some look like innocuous librarians or Sunday School cheerleaders or Boss bitches. The whole gambit.

I reach the exit. The bleach chlorine man is already waiting for me. He wrings out a blindfold that was bunched up uncomfortably close to his groin. I am not a homophobic man. I appreciate the smell of a musk, there is a refined strain of dick cheese out there, and a man this overwhelming chemical should have a sterile blindfold. Except he is wringing this blindfold out. Some kind of liquid is dropping on the floor, but before I can make out what drips have dropped my eyes have been folded into the blinds. There is no graceful exit.

After much leaves are rustled. Drivers negotiating with the bald patches of darkness dotting the byways and leeways of my swampy homeland. I purposely made a trip out of joining the monks. I didn’t want to join a local enclave so I made sure to cross several state lines. Once I can smell the odor of burning leaves do I realize I have actually been driven all the way to my backwoods home. The home I tried so hard to leave behind. A light has come on and my parents, older sister and the gentleman trying to pretend to be our maid all come out all wearing various robes and sleepwear, arms crossed in unison. I finally take off my blind fold.

“Christ almighty I didn’t think you were alive. I thought I was doing another corpse drop off. Get the fuck outta here. Cant afford any bad luck, fuck!” He drives his miserable reliable fiat as fast as it will go and when my family discerns that I am more or less in one piece they march single file back inside. I  sit outside on the perpetually damp cushioned porch swing and sway myself into a woozy and necessary sleep.

///

My tooth, my back right molar is sprouting sinister veins of terrible pain throughout my jaw. I cannot speak. I am rendered a strong, silent handsome type. I refuse to accept these parameters. People love my reedy and oaty mellifluous voice. Remember how much I look up to Qui-Gon Jinn? Good, it should give you idea of what I’m dealing with. I am in my basement bathroom. Always the basement dweller never the chic chateau bachelor. I take a bottle of vodka, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a bottle of mineral water. I slosh them together in a plastic watering can that I use to sustain my miserable array of jungle flowers.

My older sister, Cottontail, has arrived with my mail and more. She says this unlabeled package was delivered by a woman that could only be described as a real Karen. My sister then reminds me how much she hates using that sexist phrase but she calls them like she sees them. Cottontail gives me an overly long slab of sustained eye contact, and then she asks about the violence across my face. I wave her away, I begin tearing into the envelope. The jutting dental pain makes the process of opening the envelope feel like a real superhero pal adventure, an overly long and painful slog. After several bouts of muffled screams of agony and several miles of drool streaks of blood I get into the envelope. How do I have so much blood in my body? Inside the envelope’s interior flap is bold and American flag covered Q. There’s a sugar and carmel dusted pretzel shaped as a Q inside of the envelope and a note that says, “Take a bite out of this.”

Merely reading the word bite causes a castanet snap of bile in my throat, but I hold the pretzel up to my mouth. I realize that it is not a pretzel and that the brown coloring is made from the dark brown crystal sugars. The entire Q is made out of  sugar. Maybe one bite will give me the quick and lethal kind of diabetes? I chomp down and am met with a surge of relief as soon as the sugar crystals sing and fizzle in my mouth pooling around the suspect molar. All pain has been wiped clear as long as I keep the sugar flowing.

I must have all the candy under God’s gaseous and toxic land. I run up to the candy striper and shake her by the shoulders and tell her I need my sugar rush! Q has sent me! My face and a negative circle of the banned lines nearly every location sugary confections are sold.

#surreal fiction #surrealism #short story #fiction #weird fiction #qanon #fuck quanon #qanon explained

[lordnochybaty]

daemon au, pt I, Miranda meets James

I hear no loud protests and even some support, so here you go. The first part that I know realize could be a stand alone short fic and I might eventually post it if/when I decide what I want to do with the rest of it. Let me know if you like it. ( I will happily accept also prompts/inquiries about this verse, because I have plenty of headcanons. )

Miranda favoured carriages while moving through London. Of course, it was the safest and most appropriate way for a lady of her standing to travel, but nevertheless, she also enjoyed it more.

The way it shielded her from the view of the others, shielded her daemon. She didn't have to watch out how she was moving, making sure Jani didn't disturb, didn't scare anyone. She didn't have to deal with people's glances as they judged her and turned to whisper about her. Of course, she could deal with it. She dealt with it for years, especially since Jani settled, it wasn't anything she couldn't handle, but it was still a nice reprieve to forget it all for a moment. To be able to observe without being judged.

That's why she asked Thomas if she could join him and his new acquaintance she was so very curious about. Thomas spoke about the man constantly, with elation and quickly building admiration. And the shine in his eyes made her think the Lieutenant didn't only captivate Thomas' intellectual interest, which was curious enough on its own.

Thomas was a charming man, and a handsome one as well. He made plenty of friends and had several lovers, rarely, however, those two desires crossed their paths for him. That made James McGraw quite special and Miranda was very eager to finally make her own impression of the man. Luckily for her Thomas was always eager to share so he arranged for her carriage to be there, to join them, so she would have a chance to meet the beautiful lieutenant.

What she saw at first made perfect sense. A rather tall, well-built man, with a beautiful hair and a charming half-smirk. Sometimes she liked to think how her relationship with Thomas was so much different than this of other marriages and it struck her again as she thought how well she knows Thomas' type in men. The smirk was the biggest clue, really, dry sense of humor she heard about was a quick way to hook Thomas in, but she was certain the powerful thighs and gorgeous hair were not without their merit for her husband.

What surprised her the most was the lieutenant's daemon that clearly tried to sit still by its partner's side, almost as if bracing for a parade stand in front of Thomas' lioness that it didn't look away from. It was quite common looking orange tabby cat, with thick long fur and some clear signs of previous conflicts. Regardless of how much the daemon tried to seat as properly as only a cat can, there was no mistaking it for a salon's pet. In fact, if not for its demeanor and how well fed it looked, it could easily be mistaken for any other cat that lived in the port. Miranda actually noticed several of the port cats glancing at daemon, but it seemed to warn them off with tiny growls coming deep from its throat as if it tried to keep them away while he was attempting to look its best.

The most amusing she thought was how it managed to look bored and completely disinterested whenever Layla looked at him. It met her gaze often enough, but then looked away as if keeping watch. Layla seemed amused by the spectacle and kept walking small circles around them all, just close enough so the lieutenant and his daemon would worry about accidentally touching her. She was far more obviously manipulative than Thomas ever let himself appear.

The tabby cat carefully and very deliberately put his fluffy thick tail right in Layla's path and she noticed at the last minute. Her teasing was never supposed to go anywhere close to an actual touch, she stumbled, missing the tail just barely and quite effectively messing her proud walk. The cat licked its paw with nonchalance as the lioness glared at him.

Miranda bit on a smile. Oh, this was going to be delightful!

She called the lieutenant, dancing on the edge of inappropriateness once again as Thomas was distracted by a young man he decided to give few coins to. As always he was giving away about as much money as he would lose if he was simply robbed, but at least it ended up being spread around more than just one person.

"I almost envy you," she said to lieutenant and it was true because meeting Thomas for the first time was an experience that was impossible to reproduce. He was so much different and better than most people, but above all, he captivated her right from the first meeting and she was sure she wasn't the only one.

Lieutenant kept glancing back at Thomas. One would think it was to check if it was proper, talking to his wife privately like that, but the small smile still lurking in the corner of his mouth made it clear that was hardly the reason.

"I could not help but notice your daemon," she said and regretted the bluntness of it as the lieutenant's smile disappeared and he looked at the cat at his feet with disdain. "Is it common to have a cat shaped daemon on the ship?"

He shrugged.

"It's quite a mixture of all kinds, really. Depending on what is considered most useful. The water daemons can be useful, but they do tie up the people unnecessarily. Birds are a huge advantage, however, not all of them can handle the small spaces of sleeping quarters. However generally anything that is not problematic with its size can be accepted. Cat ones are even useful, even if not especially dignified," he added pointedly and his daemon simply looked at him unimpressed and stretched, making lieutenant roll his eyes at him discretely.

Miranda smiled.

"I suppose that would make me a bad sailor," she mused, trying to get his mind off self-deprecating his own daemon. "Then again, Jani is hardly a parlors pet either."

The lieutenant looked intrigued, but it was obvious the etiquette was quite severely installed in him since he didn't ask. His daemon was watching the edge of the window in the carriage carefully, clearly considering how wrong would it be to simply jump on it and check for himself. Miranda saved the lieutenant the embarrassment and leaned back letting Jani move forward and put his huge, brown face close enough for their companions to see.

It wasn't only a test, but she appreciated it when lieutenant didn't visible startle, even if his daemon jumped slightly.

"Lady Hamilton, I admit I have little experience with parlors of high society but if they're all are anything like the ones I've had the pleasure of attending as the Navy representant... Perhaps a bear might be just the right thing for them."

She laughed briefly, utterly taken with the bold statement and wolfish smile that accompanied it. Thomas must've heard her since he turned their way and smiled brightly seeing them talking. His attentions however straightened lieutenant's posture further and made his expression more guarded as his daemon sat up at attention again. Perhaps, she thought, she would have a better chance yet to melt Lieutenant's frosty walls than Thomas. She watched him carefully and as he met her gaze it quickly became more intense and far too prolonged for something that could pass for proper between almost strangers. It was only broken by Layla doing exactly what Lieutenant's daemon was just thinking about and jumping into the carriage through its window, her huge body barely fitting and only with some highly undignified wriggling.

"Layla!" Thomas called, but the amusement underneath his irritation was far too clear.

Layla finally dropped into the carriage, barely missing Miranda's legs and smacking the lieutenant's hat with her tail.

"My sincere apologies, Lieutenant. It happens I haven't seen my delightful wife since this morning and apparently, my daemon cannot control herself," while still amused the reprimand in his voice was clear enough.

Layla yawned utterly disinterested in it and Jani licked her head in greeting.

Thomas closed his eyes briefly enjoying the sensation while Miranda fought the same reaction to keep an eye on their Lieutenant. He seemed transfixed but she could almost swear his daemon was quietly laughing.

"Good afternoon, my dear," Thomas said to her with a bright welcoming smile she could not help my reciprocate.

"Good afternoon, love. Did you have a productive meeting?"

"Most certainly, though I believe we should discuss it all at dinner. I hope you will join us, Lieutenant? If my wife agrees to share the carriage with Layla we might just fit comfortably in my own."

"I do not mean to intrude-"

"No intrusion at all, Lieutenant. And I hardly could fit in here with both of our daemons. Please, it will be my pleasure."

Lieutenant nodded and Thomas led him away to the carriage waiting for him, nodding at Miranda as they walked.

Layla changed her positions, slightly uncomfortable with the growing distance between her and Thomas, but comforted enough by the company of Jani and Miranda. Miranda touched her briefly, petting lightly her head enjoying the thought of Thomas feeling it while busy with the sight of their Lieutenant.

"You're quite the manipulator, my dear," she said to Layla who made a raw sound that in a home cat would pass as purring.

Jani chuckled at her, curling around her to keep her discomfort from the parting minimal. His huge body taking over most of the carriage as they settled and Miranda gave their horseman a sign to start on their way.

-

As they settled into the carriage, Toby crowded on the floor by James' freshly shined shoes but clearly unhappy about being put on the lower level of the carriage. James couldn't shake the feeling that he seemed to be more disturbed by this situation than Lord Hamilton who for all purposes was just parted with his daemon even by few hundred meters.

"I hope I am not making you uncomfortable by this journey, my lord, I could-"

"Please, do not worry. With the size of our daemons, I assure you we rarely get to share the carriage and usually it involves a quite displeased lioness running after it or perching on its roof."

"Is it not... unpleasant for you to part like this?" James asked with some curiosity.

He and Toby never tried it. Certainly, Toby had quite a free reign of the ship they were on, which often was quite significant distance, but it was still a contained space, not two carriages separated by the London's street with the uncertainty of the distance between them or the possibility of further separation.

"It's not something we do not notice, however as long as it's a relatively short period of time it is not especially bothersome. Especially not in such circumstances when we're both in an extremely friendly company and there's no need for additional stress on our sides."

James nodded slowly, looking away from Lord Hamilton's smile. He easily understood how Lady Hamilton and her daemon's presence could soothe Layla - it wasn't uncommon for daemons to be able to travel further from their partners as long as their family or significant others were present - but to say his company helped Lord Hamilton's nerves was highly unexpected and while on its own not inappropriate, combined with James growing affection...

He hissed as Toby clawed his shine in a warning, carefully aiming right above the polished shoes both to spare them the damage and to cause as much pain as he was able to. Lord Hamilton raised his eyebrows in somewhat amused surprise at the daemon's behaviour.

James decided to ignore the silent question this time considering the explanation was far more humiliating than silence. He only petted Toby to let him know he got his message and any other painful reminders to keep his thoughts off this topic were absolutely not necessary. Gratified Toby jumped on the seat next to him, curling for a nap and purring louder than the clatter of a carriage and quite probably shedding on everything from the seat he was on to James' best coat.

Lord Hamilton chuckled quietly, watching the sleeping daemon with such affection than James could only think he was doomed and no amount of claws would save him from falling into this damnation.

#my fic #black sails #bs fic #miranda hamilton #thomas hamilton #james flint #flinthamiltons #daemons au #bs daemons au #when i said scenes you did not picture over 2000 word stories did you? #i lost the meaning of short fics ages ago #;)

[imagine-loki]

Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Five AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market. RATING: Teen and Up

NOTES: Some bullying in this chapter. 

Loki stood watching as his father all but castrated Lord Ivan for his handling of the mine collapse. It was everything Loki had said and far worse. The people of the area had noticed the royal presence and were shocked, yet pleased to see the Allfather had thought it worthy of his time. Odin, however, had to politically state that it was the first chance he had to come to deal with it and that though those inside had perished, he would ensure every man was given his rightful burial, on the crown's gold. That pleased the people, but enraged the king, not for the financial cost, but because it made the crown look lackadaisical and uncaring. The court treasurer almost seemed faint at the idea of paying for the mine, until Odin informed him that Lord Ivan and his officials would be paying a considerable portion of the cost, before adding that there were festivals held in Asgard for the wealthy that cost more than retrieving these men's bodies, so to cancel one of them was to have the same money spent, only this was far more worthy a cause. Frigga smiled approvingly beside her husband at that.

After the matter was dealt with, Loki actively went in search of his brother to speak with him, something he could not recall doing with nearly a hundred years. Thor, for his part, stood staring at his younger sibling when his hand servant opened the door to reveal Loki standing on the other side. "Loki?"

"Obviously, how many other siblings do you have?" Loki scoffed before he could stop himself.

Curious as to why Loki had come, Thor invited him in. "What is it you want?"

"Your trip."

"What of it?"

"What happened on it?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, I was the one to inform Father of what happened."

"So why not ask him?"

Loki raised a brow, "In what realm do you think Father would tell me such things?"

Thor's face showed how he was forced to concede that as a truth. "Overall, nothing much on the way, saw the countryside, it looks quaint, plenty of hunting to be done when we are of age," he grinned before his face fell. "When we got there, Loki…" He shook his head. "It was just abandoned, you could see this huge crater where it had collapsed, they never even tried to move one stone to help them." Loki swallowed as Thor's voice went small. "Father was in a rage like I have never seen, but he had to remain calm, their families were there. He spoke to a few of them. They lost so much. Some lost only one family member, but there was one woman lost her brother, her nephew, her husband and three sons, all in one foul swoop." Thor's voice shook. "I have seen nothing like it before Loki, and I never wish to see it again."

"And we are helping them?"

"Father used Gungnir while we were there, he started the process and did not leave until the first cavern was fully excavated. He would not let me see what was brought up, but we were there for the first of the funerals."

"That is something."

"I am sorry I did not believe you that day Loki."

Loki frowned for a moment. "None would have thought it possible, but now we have started the process for them, that is only ever a good thing."  Thor nodded in agreement as Loki went to leave the room again. "I forgot to ask, had the carriage any issue going to and from the mines?"

Thor looked at Loki as though he had asked him if a cat had given birth to a foal. "No." He elongated the word as he stared at his brother, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he replied before leaving the room. If Loki's concern was something of note to Thor, so too was his blatant annoyance after he had told him there was nothing wrong with the carriage. Putting it down to Loki attempting to hoax it and failing, Thor shook his head and decided to bathe before getting some rest after his long and tedious journey.

*

As the next market began, Loki waited until it was time for him to make his monthly disappearing act. He sat in his room under the guise of again feeling poorly and waited. When his hand servant informed him that his mother was asking for him, he felt his nerves soar from his stomach up his throat, his pulse throbbing in his head. He gave the nod for her to be welcomed in and inhaled deeply, readying himself for whatever she was about to say, knowing there was a high chance that she had caught him out and was forbidding him from leaving the palace. When she entered, he smiled nervously at her.

"How are you feeling?" She smiled as she walked over to him, placing her hand on his forehead.

"Better, but there is still  slight aching in my head."

"It would leave if you would take some herbs."

"Except you stated before, that unless the pain is so great it causes issues with your seidr, to not go tampering with it."

Frigga smiled, "I did, you actually listen, though you act as though you do not."

"People say more if they think you are not listening," Loki shrugged.

"Such as the topic of the lost souls in that mine?" Loki looked to his mother. "You did a great thing bringing that to your father's attention."

Loki looked away, feeling guilty for lying to his mother. "It should not have been me to say it."

"No, it should have been dealt with a year ago," Frigga agreed, "But had you not told your father…" She walked over and cupped his face in her hands, noting how tall he was getting as he made his way through his adolescence, fast making his way to his adult years. "You are the reason these men will be given proper funerals, and I know that it can never be publically acknowledged as such, but you can always be safe in the knowledge that to your father and I, it will never be forgotten." She kissed his cheek. "I am so proud of you Loki."

"Anyone would have done it."

"No, do you not see, how many of power knew, and said nothing, you stood in front of your father in his chambers, you swore with conviction that it was true, and now look what you have achieved." She stated. "You are my son."

"No, I will never amount to as much as you."

"You do not see the power of your actions," Frigga shook her head as she looked lovingly at her son. "You do not see it, but to those people, you have done the work of the Norns." Loki shook his head slightly. "I wish I could speak more with you darling, but I need to meet with Eir."

Loki looked at her curiously "Oh, are you alright?"

Frigga smiled fondly at him again. "Of course, darling. I merely have to discuss a matter with her." she gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Rest some more, I will see you later."

"Thank you mother."

"Anytime, my wonderful boy." and with that, the Allmother turned and left her son's rooms.

Loki waited several minutes before moving, his hand servant had left a cold lunch for him as he did every day he would have the afternoon off. He ate it quickly and made his way quietly through the palace, leaving a clone asleep in his bed as he did so. Sneaking his way to the exit he usually used, he created his disguise and made his way through the smaller back streets of the city to the trade master's district once more. He waited by looking around and paying attention to what each tradesman was doing. He noted the rancid smell of urine and boiled animal carcass from the tanners, the hot steel smell mixed with sweat from the farriers, while the cooper had a more refined oak like odour from his stall, he jumped for a moment and went to hide when he recalled that he was in disguise on seeing Volstagg and Hogun walking through the streets, but they seemed utterly uninterested in their surrounds as they made their way somewhere, not paying any heed to the stalls or other people. After settling himself, Loki sensed the presence of someone close to him, turning around he saw Ariella behind him, a few feet away, looking at him as though he was an apparition. "Ari?"

She rushed forward and hugged him as though her very being depended on it. "Thank you."

"What?"

"I know it was you."

"What are you…?"

"The Allfather came, he came days after I told you, he is getting them out, Marek is deep down according to the records of who worked where, but they are over half way already, and it is because of you." She squeezed him tightly as she spoke. "How did you do it?"

"I just asked…"Loki paused, he recalled the story Odin had given the people of them not having time, but he decided to go against it. "I asked the Allfather, he had never heard such news so went to investigate."

"He was never told?" Ariella asked in shock.

"No, at first he thought me mad, but he investigated and saw the truth.

"You must have a high ranked father for him to have even spoken to you."

"I do," Loki answered honestly.

"How did you explain knowing it?"

"I said I heard a servant mention it." He shrugged.

"What happened to a lie based in truth?"

"Servants are low-born, are they not?"

"Yes, they are."

"So I was not lying, per se." Loki grinned. "I gave the Healer a gift from us by the way, I left it in her rooms when none were there." Ariella's eyes widened. "So too did I give the Allmother a gift."

"What?"

"The Countess, I bestowed something she will very much like, a herb she cannot get in abundance, I acquired a seed for, so she can grow her own, and for the Allmother, a box of her favourite treats," He smiled as he recalled the perplexed look on his mother's face after she found a box of macaroons in her study. Loki had gotten his servant, to put it there when he knew her maids and the Allmother would be out, saying nothing of why, and his servant not asking, as it was known Loki adored his mother.

"For helping me?"

"Of course, how is your leg actually? Your face has healed well."

"It is good, I have rested it well." she smiled, extending her foot and moving it around slightly, her dark coloured shoes on her feet. "They are so comfortable, I am always tempted to wear them but I am frightened that if I do, I will wear them out." She sighed.

"Then we will get you a new pair." Loki grinned.

"I made you something." Loki frowned as Ariella pulled something from around her neck and gave it to him. Loki studied it for a moment before looking at her for an explanation. "Do they not tell you high-borns of the old symbols?" Loki shook his head. Ariella rolled her eyes before talking again. "Before there was writing script, our ancestors used symbols, and this is one of friendship, undividable by time and distance." She explained.

Loki swallowed hard as he looked at the symbol, it was etched onto silver and tied with a string. "Thank you." He smiled. "How?"

"Bought the rope and used a silver coin you gave me. I got an old nail and hammered it with a rock."

"You did this?" Ariella nodded. "It is amazing." She blushed, Loki was going to say something else when he heard Ariella's stomach growling. "When did you last eat?"

"Two days ago." There was shame in her eyes.

"Come on, some food now." Loki insisted. When she did not move, he extended his arm to her, but Ariella pulled back.

Her startled and scared demeanour confused Loki, "Sorry, I wasn't thinking there, sure, let us go." She walked off before he could say anything.

Loki watched as she meekly continued her journey to their usual spot, noting something was different in her, she seemed to be lacking something she usually exuded. They were in sight of their location when something collided with Ariella sending her crashing to the ground painfully. Loki rushed to pick her up. "Who the Hel just walks around like they own the place like that?" He growled before looking up and staring open-mouthed at who was in front of him.

Volstagg stood, looking peeved that something delayed him from getting to the food. "Watch your tongue," He growled.

"Me, watch my tongue, how about you watch your rotunda middle and not blow girls out of your way as you attempt to fatten it further." Loki never had time for the red-haired friend of his brother.

"Do you know who I am?" Volstagg growled, pushing Loki with his larger frame.

"The court pie eater?" Loki grinned in return.

"I am Prince Thor's friend."

"But you are not Prince Thor, are you, so you are of little standing in this conversation."

Volstagg pushed him, "Listen low-born, if you speak to me like that again I will have your guts."

"Get bend you filthy boar," Loki growled in return, pulling Ariella to her feet. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she stated shyly, leaning against him as she looked fearfully at Volstagg.

"What do you say?" Volstagg grinned smugly.

"I apologise, Sir, it was entirely my fault." She bowed as Loki looked on in disbelief.

"You have something of a brain in your head," Volstagg sneered, "You should show your friend here how to behave, now run along, you probably cannot afford anything here, go back to the country to breed like little rabbits."

without so much as looking at the food, Ariella grabbed Loki's hand and pulled him away. "Come on, Fandral."

"Wait, that filthy low-born has the same name as Fandral, Norns I cannot wait to tell him, he will be sickened." Volstagg laughed heartily as the pair left.

"What was that about?" Loki snarled when they got away. "Why did you apologise, he hit into you."

"Because that is how it is Fandral, I am low-born, so I have to apologise, if I did not, I could have gotten a lashing from an Einherjar for putting a hand on a high-born."

"Says who?"

"The magistrate, he said it is law."

"Ari, there is no law regarding accidentally being hit or hitting another being," Loki stated. "My father is heavily involved in law making, there is no problem if you bump into someone, and regardless, you did nothing wrong, he did."

"Well he was going to cause trouble, I have seen him before, he and his friends are bullies, thankfully the blonde one was not with them today." She sighed.

Loki said nothing more as he thought over Ariella's words and thought on a scheme to get back at his brother's friends, especially Vollstagg.

#loki #other #submission #submitted fic #chapter 5 #wolfpawn #across the divide #palace #youth #sneak #trouble #city #poor #girl #identity #asgard #market #court #token #withdrawn #friendship #hunt #thor #warrior's #ashamed #tavern #follow