#local single father tired of losing child

[sirianasims]

TRUTH: What's something you had planned for your legacy but it turned out completely different?

Oooooh, you’ve opened a can of worms now! 🐛

The short answer is: The rest of the legacy.

Originally, I had 12 generations mapped out, but I got tired of rushing through each one, so I have now decided that we’re staying with Julia for a long time and then she will be the last heir. I wanted to take my time and really flesh out her story and try new things with my storytelling instead of sticking to my usual 10 short chapters per generation.

Here is an 🌟 exclusive 🌟 original look at what was supposed to happen. If you read my story back when it was on Wordpress, there was a bit more emphasis on the vampires, but I’ve since toned this down when I started reposting everything to Tumblr because none of this will be happening now.

Very long post under the cut:

🦙 Generation 5 is Julia, and she was supposed to have a single child, a son named Marcus. What actually happens in Julia’s life remains to be seen as I have completely rewritten her entire story.

🎤 Generation 6: Marcus wants to become a stand-up comedian but he’s not actually very good at it. He’s a bit of a hippie and finally decides to just move to the woods and start a commune. He has a daughter. He grows his own weed, but ends up infected by a weird, purple plant that starts growing in his fields. He becomes more and more strange until he is tragically killed by Lilith Vatore, who herself dies after biting him.

🦇 Generation 7: Marcus daughter, Nadia, grows up with her grandparents after witnessing her father’s death. She doesn’t remember how he died but is plagued by nightmares about vampires and becomes obsessed with them. As an adult, she becomes an author of steamy vampire romance novels, writing under a pseudonym. She ends up coming into contact with Vlad and her childhood trauma is triggered by meeting Caleb again. She later works with Caleb and Vlad in their attempt to solve the mystery of why Lilith died from biting her father and they discover the purple plants. She falls in love with Vlad and they have twins, Oliver and Paulina.

🍳 Generation 8: Oliver, born a vampire, dreams of becoming a chef and eat real food. Against his father’s will, he takes the vampire cure, but he struggles to deal with his new mortality and aging. He meets a younger woman but reject her in favour of his career, feeling that he doesn’t have enough time for both. She marries someone else and he becomes a celebrity chef, but realises that it’s all meaningless without love and goes to win her back. They have a son, Quinn, but Oliver is getting old and dies when Quinn is only 21.

🌴 Generation 9: Quinn is distraught after losing his father and wants to make sure he gets as much out of life as possible. He decides to travel the world and eventually ends up in Selvadorada where he meets the grumpy tour guide, Isadora, who hates his spoiled ass at first. They get lost in the jungle and discover a strange purple plant, but wisely keep their distance. They eventually find their way home but Quinn has fallen in love with Selvadorada (and Isadora) and decides to stay and work in her father’s museum. He and Isadora have 3 kids.

🚓 Generation 10: Their youngest son, Tulio, decides to become a cop. After making a big mistake, he gets reassigned to the sleepy and boring Henford as punishment. However, Henford has become a lot less boring lately, and Tulio and his partner investigate some strange things happening, finally discovering some underground ruins which contain a huge purple plant that seems to affect the minds of the locals. Tulio decides that this seems supernatural and calls in backup from his great-grandfather Vlad, and they get another piece of the puzzle of the purple plants.

⭐️ Generation 11: Tulio’s daughter, Vanessa, decides to become a famous actress but she secretly longs for eternal youth and beauty and is jealous of her vampiric ancestors. She tries to talk Vlad into letting her become a vampire, but he says no, so she instead tries to seduce and convince Caleb. Shenanigans ensue, including Vanessa murdering her husband, the father of her child, for being a bit of a dick.

🌺 Generation 12: Vanessa’s daughter Xena decides to find the truth behind the Duchelli family’s strange past. She ends up in Strangerville and finally solves the Mother Plant mystery, discovering a convoluted plot involving aliens that goes all the way back to her ancestor Eric’s brother, Daniel, the half-alien from Generation 2.

The End.

If you read this far, well done! I’m impressed. Have a cookie 🍪 and a picture of Vlad. He will make his way into another story instead, and so will many other ideas from my original draft.

#answered asks #duchelliextras #zaddislaus

[thereindeerlady]

Hello to the 2 Zukka fans who may actually see this, i bring you Free Thoughts of a 2 am snacker!

Zukka hockey player/figure skater au

Now, i know what you’re thinking: Lydia! Tupp! This has already been done before!

And you would be correct! However! My brain has tweaked it in a way i have personally yet to see (wink wink nudge nudge drop the fic links if you’ve read this before)

So! My thoughts on the subject:

Hockey Player Zuko and Figure Skater Sokka

Zuko, child figure skating prodigy who suffered a tragic accident, is hidden away for two years before he reemerges under his Uncle’s care as a fierce hockey competitor after everyone said he’d never skate again

Sokka, who’s sister Katara became a World Junior Champion at 16* in ice hockey and who Sokka feels he can never live up to, enjoys after-hours figure skating on the same ice he works to maintain. Sokka, who watches singles programs galore and learns his favorites and recreates them, posting them to youtube for his 6 followers (Hakoda, Bato, GranGran, some kid name Aang, and two other anonymous strangers). Sokka who has a natural grace to him despite the obvious lack of formal training, who skates like he’s got everything and nothing to lose, whose love for the art shows in every glide and every turn. Sokka who gets discovered one day by an old grumpy coach who offers to give him a few tips. Sokka who is a fast learner and spends ages 14 to 18 quickly climbing the local ranks.

Zuko, who, at 16 faces a second injury that takes him out of hockey forever. Zuko, who has just been officially disowned as his own sister takes to the spotlight. Zuko, angry at the world, lashing out at everyone around, but goes willingly with his uncle when Iroh suggests a change of scenery 6 months into his recovery. Zuko who is determined to skate again, if only for himself, if only to prove that yes, he is strong enough to come back again. Zuko who strikes a deal with local ice rink that if he sits and runs the front counter during the day while his uncle runs the popular new tea shop inside the rink, he can use the rink after hours once his injury is healed enough. Almost 17 year old Zuko who stays late to reorganize some papers behind the counter one night and sees Sokka step onto the ice and go through vigorous warm ups and exercises. Zuko, who drifts a little closer and watches as Sokka is told he can skate anything he wants for the first skate. Zuko, hearing the song from the last program he ever skated come on through the speakers and watching as Sokka skates through it easily, with a passion Zuko himself had never managed to feel. Zuko, who occasionally stays behind to secretly watch a pretty boy skate and never gets caught for 4 more months. Zuko, who is finally cleared by his physical therapist to get back on the ice but with orders to take it slow, gliding carefully out onto well-taken-care-of ice for the first time in almost a year in skates very different from his last pair, and it feels strangely like coming home.

Sokka who watches a stranger hesitantly enter the rink. He comes to the rink on his nights off when everything at home becomes too much. He loves his sister and his parents- because Bato never needed to marry his dad to be a second father to him- and he even loves his sweet crazy old GranGran, but sometimes it all gets to be too much. They know he’s seriously training in figure skating now but they’ve never come to any of his recitals**. Its not that they dont care, but theres always something else going on. “Oh, we cant, Katara has her out of state tournament that weekend” or “Oh no bud Im so sorry, Bato and I are going on a late anniversary trip that day” or even “I have too much homework, Sokka, I’ll come to the next one, promise!” The only one who never makes an excuse but he also never actually sees in the audience is GranGran (this’ll be important later on wink wink). So, when things get to be too much and Sokka gets tired of having to be the loudest person in the room just to simply be acknowledged, he comes to his safe place. The rink after hours. Sokka watches from the upper shadows as the stranger takes careful, measured, practiced glides. Like riding a bike for the first time in ages, they’re hesitant at first before they slowly gain traction. At first, he thinks the stranger is just going to glide from one end to the other all night but instead he watches as they slowly begin a few exercises. Very familiar exercises. (Do you see where im going with this?) And then, they turn around, and Sokka is suddenly breathless because before him is the most beautiful boy- the most beautiful human- he’s ever seen. And sure, maybe Sokka has always fallen too fast and too hard, and sure, Sokka has literally never talked to this boy in his entire life, but Sokka looks at him and sees that look on his face and knows. ‘He’s just like me.’

Zuko who keeps coming back and lingers before Sokka gets on the ice. Sokka who stays late to watch Zuko retrain himself. Piandao who is sick and tired of watching these two boys dance around each other when they could clearly be learning from one another because, though Zuko had not trained in figure skating in years, he had been a true prodigy and he picked it back up easier than he should have been able. Piandao who was Zuko’s first coach before his father transferred him to Zhao’s guidance. (Jeong Jeong, a retired pro hockey player who is tired of listening to his husband bitch all day anout oblivious idiots because they’re starting to remind him of himself and Piandao when they were young and headstrong.) Jeong Jeong who finally takes matters into his own hand and tells the boy who runs his front counter that Piandao would like for him to come to Sokka’s next practice and then tells Piandao to “Stop whining and do something now, I’ll see you at home” with a kiss on the cheek as the two boys shyly trade introductions.

Zuko who begins helping Sokka with his training even as he himself recovers and relearns. Sokka showing up on the nights Zuko skates alone with greasy takeout and the occasional baked good his GranGran made that day. Sokka and Zuko curling up on the couch in the back office watching old figure skating videos on an old laptop and Sokka finally realizing exactly who Zuko is as Zuko finally realizes Sokka is that one youtuber he watched for years when he was younger. Zuko laughing and telling him that the random subscriber Aang is actually a friend of his and the other anonymous subscriber was just Zuko’s second account after he lost the password to the first.

On one of their casual skate nights, once Zuko is back to full strength, Sokka suggests they learn a pairs skate tongether for fun. Ike a trust exercise!” He says as if he hasnt been dying to know what it would feel like to skate in tandem with Zuko since he first saw his face. Zuko agrees and he and Sokka find a program they both like. They decide who’s skating what and then begin to fumble through learning their individual parts. A week or two later, they try it together for the first time, no music, and its not half bad. They continue to learn it together and notice that the more they skate together, the better they get individually. Zuko’s refined control gives Sokka a more polished look without smothering his passion while Sokka’s passion and fluidity allows Zuko to loosen up and actually enjoy what he’s doing. (1 hour mark)

Eventually, they put it to music, and Piandao and Jeong Jeong emerge from the shadows at the end of the song. Piandao asks them if they want to learn their own pairs program to compete together this year. The two boys share a look and agree almost immediately. The next few months are spent learning the choreography. Sokka and Zuko both go through core strength training and lifting weights because Piandao is currently planning to have them both lift each other at some point in the program.

Time jumps forward to the competitions and Zuko and Sokka blow it out of the water. This time, Sokka spots his GranGran when Zuko is pointing out and waving to his Uncle Iroh near the top of the rink. She’s sitting with Zuko’s uncle and he’s elated to see her there and yet, disappointed that his family still hasn’t come to support him. Time jumps again. Sokka and Zuko spends hours training and then hours on their off days hanging around Zuko and Iroh’s house or even Iroh’s tea shop. They ofc have spent all of this time in continual pining.

But, time jump to when they’re both 18 and 19 and they’ve both just qualified to skate pairs at Junior Worlds for the second year and this year they’re sure to win. They’re in Zuko’s kitchen, baking, and as they’re waiting for the over timer to go off, a slow song comes on. Sokka, in contrast to his norm, is quiet and gentle in the way he offers Zuko his hand and they slow dance in the kitchen with flour in their hair. They’re a little giggly and high on adrenaline but neither are sure who leans in first, only that they are both very much on board with the whole kissing thing. Despite the years of tension, the kiss is tentative and sweet. They begin dating and it only makes their program better. The love they have for each other so clearly pours over into their skating.

This Junior Worlds is the first tike GranGran finally drags the rest of the family by the ear to come and watch Sokka compete and to Zuko’s surprise, he sees Aang and a few of his other friends in the audience. Sokka and Zuko win (to no ones surprise).

Insert sokka family angst and resolve here. Insert zuko family trauma etc here

Sokka and Zuko go om to do more pairs skating things and they live happily ever after etc ete

I ran out of steam there but its 3:10 in the morning and i started at 1:51. Hope you enjoyed, this has been 2 am thoughts with Lydia.

* i did minimal research here, be proud

** same thing but even less this fime

#zukka #zukka nation #zukka headcanons #zukka au #prince zuko #atla zuko #sokka #atla sokka

[talesxofxthalia]

-BASICS

Name: Thalia Grace Lyra Age / D.O.B.: 27 / October 10, 1996 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: cis-female, she/her, bi-sexual Hometown: Chicago, IL & Rockford, Maine Affiliation: Civilian Job position: Bartender at the Cancun Education: High School Graduate Relationship status: Single Children: 0 Positive traits: (5) Bold, Observant, Resourceful, Independent, Playful Negative traits: (5) Selfish, Cynical, Reactive, Suspicious, Jealous

Bio TW: Assault, Child Abuse, Death

-BIO

Thalia's mother was written off by her parents after she fell pregnant with her first child, Theodore. She then dropped out of school to raise him. She worked in a coffee shop by day and as an exotic dancer on the weekends to bring in the much needed extra cashflow. It was during one of these shifts six years after Theodore had been born that Thelma discovered she was pregnant with Thalia. She knew it was one of her side-clients but as she wasn’t sure who, she kept it to herself. Thalia’s birth was the wake-up call Thelma needed to start getting serious about her life, and, after begging help from a particularly rich client, she was able to enroll herself in community college to earn her nursing degree. From there she was determined to move out of the city and so they did, to a small quaint town on the coast of Maine. Thalia was into karate and dance as a young child and as a game between her and her mother she would try to copy and learn one new dance move a week to impress her mother with on Friday nights: the family movie night. Both she and her brother excelled at academics much to the pride of their mother. Thalia was about to be moved into an accelerated STEM program when tragedy struck. Their mother, tired from working a double-shift at the hospital, flew through a red-light and was t-boned by a semi. Death was instantaneous.

By this point, Thalia was ten and her brother seventeen, so rather than go into the system, Theodore applied for his emancipation of minor status and won, allowing him to gain custody of Thalia. They moved back to Chicago so that it would be easier to find work. Unfortunately, between school and taking care of his little sister, Theodore found it difficult to hold down a job and became involved in local gang activity. Thalia meanwhile became involved in kickboxing, able to easily manipulate her body to do what was required of the intense sport. Everything turned upside down when her brother was arrested two years later the day after Thalia’s twelfth birthday for felony robbery and abetting murder. Thalia went into foster care.

Most of the homes were less than ideal. Some with ‘fathers’ who tried to take advantage of those within her care. Others with 'mothers' who restricted access to food and other necessities, viewing the foster child as merely a way to make money. At age fourteen in yet another foster home, driven by her anger and grief she got herself involved in gang activity. With them, her fighting skills were an asset, something to be celebrated. Her small size and stature made her seem to be an easy target, thus helping her slip by those who incorrectly thought that a drug runner wouldn’t send his stuff out with someone so small, so incapable of self-defense. At fifteen, she was officially initiated into the gang, a diamond tattoo and the gang’s words, “Bandas de Almas” (gang of souls) tattooed in delicate font behind her ear. 

Partying and getting high on Percocet’s became her life, and, at the age of sixteen, she was arrested for drug possession and sentenced to four years in juvenile detention on a plea deal that would keep her from going to the big house when she turned twenty-one. While in juvie, she received extensive counseling. Those in charge of mental health ensured that she received proper care for the grief of losing both her mother and effectively her brother as well. She walked through therapy sessions untangling the feelings of shame, low self-worth, and most of all anger. By the time her four years were over, she felt like a new person. Unfortunately, after she was released the gang of souls found her and made her pay for her betrayal. They did not kill her, but throughout the brutal torture she received she found herself wishing they would have. Now she bears the scars of their actions and all the emotions she had managed to work through in therapy came rolling back to the surface, throwing her back into her old self.

She spent two years on parole after she was released from the system at twenty-one. During that year she threw herself into kickboxing, the freedom of moving her body as she saw fit liberating. She even joined the kickboxing team at the local community college that had a program for those on parole, while still focusing significantly on her schoolwork. They gave her room and board in exchange for good grades. Of course, old habits die hard, and when she was not busy with kickboxing or school she could be found getting back up to her old habits of partying and fighting, though she was smart enough to lay-off getting high during her parole. After those years, she was officially free; her records permanently sealed as she had been charged as a juvenile.

A few months after the end of her parole Thalia became swept up in a whirlwind romance with a man who she truly believed loved her-- and perhaps he did, but after the pair were married in a drunken state at a casino in Paris, France, things began to fall apart. Less than one month into their new marriage he had cheated on her once more. He had made a habit of it before, but the two had never outright made things official until trying to give their accidental marriage a go. His deliberate cheating, despite his excuse of being high and ‘forgetting’ that he was married, was the final straw for Thalia, and she fled. It took her over a year to push the divorce through due to his reluctance to let her go, and during that time she found herself hitchhiking across the country, wanting to explore all that life had to offer. 

Thalia has been in New York for a little over a year working as a bartender at The Cancun. Due to her romantic mishap, Thalia never finished school and while tips are good they aren't enough to feed her addiction to tiny tattoos and the drugs that help her sleep at night. To make up the money she fights regularly in the underground ring. She’s quite good and its more than enough to supplement her income, allowing her to live in a studio apartment in higher-scale neighborhood. Often times the fights leave her bruised up enough that she will disappear for up to a week from her bartending job. She has noticed some of what is going on between the different gangs, but has largely kept herself out of it. Thalia is intrigued and could be persuaded to join, but her past has left her jaded and untrusting.

#tw: abuse #tw: child abuse #tw: death #tw: assault #wb.intro #thalia.intro

[h0wdyydee]

based on this post from @correct-mando​ ! grogu was crying because din wouldn’t let him eat the frog

#i just think that #drawing low quality grogu and din is funny #reduced to the most basic of forms #unsuspecting boba #poor poor din #that poor man #local single father tired of losing child #din has to use a fraction of his strength when pulling back grogu #if he's not careful that child is gonna be FLUNG #grogu is holding on by sheer will #howdy draws #the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu #boba fett

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How do you think the Cullen's would have turned out if they lived their natural human lives and not forever frozen at an age / the state they were in? For example I think Carlisle would always be kind and tame but perhaps not as idealistic. Rose might grow bitter of the world since even if Royce didn't assault her I can't imagine he would be the loving husband she wanted. Edward, who watched his parents die and was dying himself, might not be as moody and miserable. Who knows about Jasper and Alice and Esme. Emmett would probably stay the same. Bella, if she never met the supernatural, probably would just be a quiet old soul but otherwise not mal adjusted. I can't even guess about Renesmee haha since she has no personality next to being ~inhumanly special.

I mean, sadly, we know the answer: they wouldn't be around very long and would have died miserably. There's no such thing as a natural human life, well, I suppose you can die of old age, but the fate of the Cullens didn't have that in store.

But let's get into it just the same.

Alice

Had James not come across Alice, she likely still would have been turned at some point by her maker, who seems to have been very fond of her. It was just a matter of time. The difference being that, instead of being a newborn completely on her own, her maker would have been there. This is an Alice very unlikely to see Jasper or the Cullens in her future, though who knows, Carlisle and her maker might very well cross paths someday due to the similarity of their work.

But I doubt Alice would ever end up on the diet.

For Alice to remain human, she can never have been sent to that asylum. In which case we have two options a) she's not sent to an asylum b) she's sent to a different asylum.

In the first case, Alice is more than likely murdered by her father. This is what got her sent off in the first place: she was running around town claiming that her father had murdered her mother and now planned to murder her. To shut the hysterical woman up, her father sent her to an insane asylum. Which effectively got her out of his life just as he wished.

If that didn't occur to him, then yes, Alice likely falls gravely ill or has some unfortunate accident that she cannot prevent.

Otherwise, Alice is sent to some other insane asylum, likely still loses all her memories due to electroshock therapy, and probably dies very young due to poor health conditions. The life she does live is utterly miserable.

Bella

Bella dies in a parking lot, she's hit by a truck out of control. Otherwise, Bella dies in Port Angeles, she's raped and her body abandoned in a dumpster. Otherwise, Bella is eaten by a vampire.

And if Bella miraculously survives all of that, I imagine her struggle with depression continues throughout high school and into college. In college, she may meet someone who catches her interest, in which case she becomes completely codependent on them for a sense of validation (as she did Edward and Jacob in canon).

The relationship is a toxic mess, ends in a very messy breakup, and Bella goes through her New Moon phase a bit later. She might finally get therapy and survive this very dangerous phase in her life, at which point, she finally starts the slow recovery from depression.

I imagine Bella will be struggling with depression though for all of her life and, if left untreated, it might very well kill her.

Carlisle

Had Carlisle not been turned this means the vampire likely drained him. Carlisle dies at the head of the mob, this sentences the other Cullens to death as well as now no one will turn them.

Let's say Carlisle wasn't as fast that day. He had a leg cramp, or something. Not being well in front of the others, he's not hit by the vampire first. This increases his chances of death, as the vampire seems to have killed the rest he took a bite of, but he could survive.

Carlisle lives with the haunting guilt that the one time he tracks down a true demon he brought death to his parish. Several died due to his actions, the demon got away, and now there's no sign of it. Carlisle completely and utterly failed.

This is probably the final straw for Carlisle. Demons exist, but they are beyond his capacity to hunt, this is a job for God and not mere mortal men. He stops the demon hunts, stops the witch hunts, and focuses himself strictly on helping the community and preaching.

He lives knowing his father would have continued to be sorely disappointed in everything he does.

Carlisle likely marries within a few years, now that his father is dead and he's the established head of the parish. He may or may not like his wife all that much, but he has a responsibility, and having a wife and children is one of those. I imagine that they either are somewhat fond of each other or quietly tolerate one another.

If Carlisle has a son, the son is trained as a priest, sent to seminary as he was, and set to inherit the parish. If he has only daughters, then it will be her husband who will inherit the parish.

When Carlisle dies he is likely remembered very fondly by the parish for the good he did for the community. No one talks about the demon hunting disaster. He's buried next to his father.

Edward

Edward dies of the Spanish Influenza in 1918.

Had he never caught it, and thus never come across Carlisle, I imagine he lives a somewhat ordinary life. He goes to university somewhere very well established, perhaps even one of the Ivy League schools, I can see him training to become a lawyer. He either joins his father's law firm or, if his father's not a lawyer, some law firm in Chicago where he does quite well for himself.

He probably courts then marries some affluent, well to do, woman who hits all the checkmarks he expects from society. They probably get on quite well.

The market then crashes in 1929, when Edward's only 29 years old, and Edward gets to live through the depression. Edward may be lucky enough to retain his wealthy, however, he very well could not have been. Edward is now unemployed, destitute, and miserable just like the rest of the country.

I imagine this is very hard on him, he becomes very bitter and resentful, and as he desperately tires to find work it just gets worse. Edward becomes mired in cynicism.

Then the war hits, Edward is now 41, and he's too old to enlist in the army. He feels a sense of nostalgic bitterness that, once again, he can't go fight the good fight and has to cheer from the sidelines. Nonetheless, the economy starts to recover thanks to the war, Edward recovers with it and things get better.

Edward lives his ordinary human life and, perhaps, lives to sometime in the 1990's.

Emmett

Emmett is eaten by bears.

Had he not happened to be in the mountains that day then, likely, some other unfortunate accident would have befallen him. He's a mountain man, that's a dangerous life.

He gets eaten by bears, eaten by mountain lions, injured somehow and then dies, hit by a tree that he cut down, there are so many possibilities.

If he does live to an older age then he becomes the gruff mountain man stereotype that we all know. I imagine he remains a very friendly, cheerful, man, probably marries some local girl and has a very large family.

Esme

Esme kills herself. With the death of her child, that was the path she chose, and had she not been turned she would have been successful.

However, had her child lived, I imagine her life would have continued on the path it was on. She would have been a single mother, working as a teacher, and raising her child.

They would have been poor, but Esme seemed determined to make this work, and was doing an excellent job at it.

Perhaps, in time, she would meet the right man and remarry. However, I think that would take a lot of time as the whole issue was that she was hung up on the ideal of Dr. Carlisle Cullen who she met when she was sixteen and never saw again.

Regardless, she's far more of a real person grounded in reality than Esme the vampire ever was.

Jasper

Had Jasper not come across Maria, he likely would have died in the war. Many, many, people died in the civil war, and Jasper would be far from alone in that.

If not, he would have returned to the ravaged south, and likely found himself facing unemployment and very difficult times for wherever he came from.

Jasper would likely pull through, we know he has lived through hell in canon and pulled through there, though changed for life by the horrors of the civil war that will now never quite leave him.

Renesmee

Renesmee is never born. Her father is a demon a hundred years older than her mother. There is no chance that Bella becomes pregnant with Edward's human child, let alone his vampire child.

If Bella does become pregnant with a vampire child, she's likely been raped by Joham. Bella dies in confusion and agony, Renesmee is born into this world utterly alone, is picked up by Serena, and becomes yet another sister of Nahuel's.

Renesmee lives the miserable life that all of Nahuel's siblings do.

Rosalie

Rosalie is gang raped to death by Royce and his friends and dies in agony in an alley. Had she not come across Royce that night then likely, after they marry, he at some point rapes her to death and murders her.

The likelihood of Rosalie, with her parent's ambitions and her looks, of not marrying Royce is very small.

Even then, Royce is in town in general, that means all she needed was one bad night. Which, in canon, she had.

However, let's say she lives and Royce wasn't interested in her hand, she marries option number two. As you note, her marriage still likely isn't fulfilling. Rosalie is there to be beautiful and poised, to have tea with the ladies in society, and watch as a governess raises her children.

This is the world she lives in, and she accepts that, but over time she becomes increasingly bitter and resentful of this thing we call life.

TL;DR Remember, there's no escape from the pit of despair we call Twilight

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the cullens #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #jasper whitlock #rensemee cullen #bittemoi

[haechanhues]

ENHYPEN as Empathy Tracks (D.O)

pairing : enhypen x reader

genre : fluff.  very soft. 

warnings : - 

summary : since kyungsoo released empathy i’ve been listening to his tunes and linking them to enhypen members.    

Rose - D.O 

A new relationship 

Crush turned relationship :) 

Twiddling fingers, heart shaped pupils

‘I go to a local florist. No matter how hard I think about, which flower I want to give you. The only flower I know is a rose.’

I love this line so much. 

Imagine Jake’s little smile and going to the florist. 

‘With courage, carrying an arm full of flowers.’

‘You are prettier than a rose actually. I can’t express my feelings in words. Even though I look shy. And cheesy, I can’t help it. From today we are lovers.’

Doesn’t really need big gestures - tiny little things that keep the love alive in his heart. He feels what he feels and does his best to express it.

Sincerity in purest form. Maybe not quite knowledgable but very sincere.

Jake blowing his cheeks up as he nervously prepares himself to approach you. 

I’m Gonna Love You ft Wonstein - D.O 

Naturally in love

Because he is in love - he doesn’t know any different. Doesn’t necessarily know what it means not to be in love.

It’s just how it is.

‘Like drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. Like the sun rising, facing the west, It’s so easy to love you.’

Simplicity is best. 

‘Yeah, I’m gonna, I’m gonna love you. It’s like taking a breath. I’m gonna love. It’s so easy.’

Even though he may potentially struggle or the relationship will have setbacks, because that person is someone they love and too important to them, they’ll do their best.

‘I learn everything. I’ve been so foolish. Because of the way you smile. I’ll do my best for you.’

In it for the long run. 

Dedicated to the relationship. 

Prepared to fight through the inevitable setbacks in their relationship. Setbacks are normal. But nothing matters more to him than you. 

My Love - D.O 

‘We walk together through this night air. The temperature and weather suits you. The night sky, the starlight, your eyes. Everything I see with my eyes. That’s just my love.’

Imagine being on a walk with him, the night air doesn’t bother you and maybe he’s holding your hand, or your hands are in his pockets. Maybe you’re sharing a jacket or walking snuggled up with one blanket. Maybe you’ve got matching thick winter coats. 

He comes home from work or any other commitment that requires being outside or separated. 

You come home from work or any other commitment that requires being outside or separated. 

It’s tough work. You both feel like you need a nap but you agree to spend this bracket of free time to go on a walk together to enjoy each other’s company. 

(Before returning home and having a nap together) 

Even though may be busy and may be too tired, he’ll still love and is comforted by the relationship/love.

Spending time whenever possible despite conflicting/hard schedules.

Enjoyment in its purest form.

It’s Love - D.O 

Despite setbacks, wanting to be in love - wanting to feel comforted and understood.

Somewhat of an bright glow. 

Always working. Always having this energy or livelihood. 

‘My heart never sleeps. It’s a heart I’ve forgotten for awhile. Even if things always fall apart when I look forward to them. That is not the end. Turn the page one more time. It’s the coming love.’

‘It is a bigger world. Look at each other in the eye and hold hands. Grow old together. What makes me want to be together with you for the last time. Is that you are love’

Youth. 

Niki being a little nuisance - making sure you’re always spending the day well and making sure every little moment is worth it for your journal.

Every tomorrow is a new day. 

Opening up to other forms of love and opportunities. That they’re all around us.

Another chance.

Slightly sad. But not too much. A sad that will eventually or easily be comforted.

Dad - D.O 

Holding Dad’s hand

Memories - nostalgia

The realisation of space, time and self.

‘I walk slowly, following you. The dazzling sunset light is coming down. It spreads to that warm back. While you, who has been infinitely kind, ran non-stop. I was unknowingly growing up too.’

An appreciation of those around you. 

Those that you love dearly but are so normal to you that sometimes you forget how much they mean to you. 

‘I want to be more like you. To you, I’m still a child. I’m still learning life from you. So that your time is filled with more dazzling memories. I always try to face you and be with you. My father.’

‘You’ve endlessly looked strong. You’ve had to turn around and endure things alone. I became old enough to know a little about that.’

‘The sound of your bright laughter. With this beautiful night that grows deeper. It has been In my memory for a long time. That you and I are very similar.’

You watch three shadows walk along the path. 

One shadow belongs to Heeseung’s father who is a bit older but still manages to keep a good stride. Perhaps even better than the other two. He watches his son with love in his eyes because his son may be an adult now, he is still his baby. 

Another shadow belongs to Heeseung who stands tall and proud. Strong. But always looking around his legs. 

Because the third and final shadow is your own son who wobbles on his little legs and watches the world with curious eyes. He keeps a firm grasp on his dad’s legs, not wanting to be separated. 

‘An exceptionally starry night. I’m proud of you, you shine even brighter. More beautiful than the harsh world.’

Reliability.

The rock you leaned on in times of conflict or inner torment breathed too.

I’m Fine - D.O 

Nostalgia

‘The many memories and our fluttering hearts. Are they gradually disappearing from our memory?’

Fear?

‘How are you? How are you doing? Is it the day you’ve been hoping for? Like you asked me, I asked you. ‘I’ve been doing well.’ Without hesitating for a moment, I sincerely hope you tell me ‘I’m fine’…. With that phrase, me too, I’m fine.’

Wants to know what the other is thinking. Wants to be able to care about each other, to understand each other, to communicate innermost feelings. 

‘At the end of a long day. I’m gradually losing my way. I’ve been wandering all night, comforting myself. Seeing only the good things. Hearing only the good things. May I be filled with good thoughts.’

Doubts

Reflection.

Moments spent, flicking through your teenage journal with the widest smile on his face. 

You started dating when you were in high school and at the time wrote little entires in your diary with the thought he wouldn’t read a single world. 

But he spends the whole afternoon reading your words. The way you felt about him then, asking questions, smiling. You were in such a rush to try everything when you were younger but now-  

‘Before it’s too late, let’s try it together, one thing at a time. Don’t worry about things on your own. Don’t regret things anymore. Even the small wishes, one thing at a time, the two of us.’

Si Fueras Mia - D.O 

‘Everyday you wake up in my arms. I wake you up with little kisses filled with love. How nice we have it, you and I. And I sing you the songs that you like. Every lyric that I write is for you. But I only know you in my dreams, my love.’

‘Ooh, if only you were mine. The places I would take you to. To see you happy and to see you smile. There is nothing I wouldn’t do. I would give you the entire world in a second. If only you were mine.’

Crush?

‘I drown within your eyes and there is no salvation.’

Hope.

Daydreaming.

The promise to travel. To see the world when everything is all over. To experience things you’ve always talked about. When you can enjoy it wholeheartedly. 

It’s his gift to you. 

author’s note : went overboard with heeseung but now i’m like imagining dad!heeseung. 

#enhypenwriters #enhypen fic #enhypen heeseung fic #enhypen jay fic #enhypen jake fic #enhypen sunghoon fic #enhypen sunoo fic #enhypen jungwon fic #enhypen niki fic #enhypen bulleted au #enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung fluff #enhypen jay fluff #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunoo fluff #enhypen jungwon fluff #enhypen niki fluff

[bump1nthen1ght]

Thicker than Water (Demon x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Female Reader x Gender Fluid! Demon

Genre: High Fantasy

Warnings: Arm Injuries, Several mentions of blood

Word Count: 1870 Words

Summary: A summoning gone awry ends up in your favor

Chapter 2

A/N: Alright, I know I literally just posted a demon story but this post showed up on my dash and my god if I have never been more inspired to write a fic. I legit wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy. Also I plan this story to be multi-chap, but still rather short, so maybe 3 parts in total

Before that night, you had never known what nearly-passing out felt like.

Your mother had done it, once or twice, usually after a particularly stressful day at the shop. If you didn’t check on her between your studies she may forget to eat entirely, your father as well. But you had been lucky; Someone had always been there to catch her, to cradle her head and spoon-feed her strength back.

On the forest floor, surrounded by the smell of your own blood, you have no such luxury.

The black spots flickering in your vision blend into the desne canopy above you and your tears only muddle your sight. The iron and copper of the summoning circle drawn around you drown out the scent of fresh pine and grass, while your ears can only focus on your own heartbeat and the bickering of the four boys.

Oh, that’s right, they’re still here.

It seems you had lost more fluid than you realized, probably because of your incessant crying. You had tried to stop the flow, but your brain was losing coherent function with every second. The boys conversation sounds far away and hollow, bouncing off your eardrums and confusing your sense of direction

“You idiot, I told you not to go for the arm!”

“We needed a lot of blood!”

“But she needs to read the ritual dumbass! She can’t if she dies!”

Ah yes, the ritual, it all is flooding back to you now.

Having received a private education from your father at your family’s apothecary, you were already prone to isolation as a child. It didn’t help having no siblings, nor a lacking natural talent for friend-making. Although you had lived in the city all your life, the young people your age knew very little about you, and you them.

You knew they had rumors about you, The daughter the apothecary hides away; That your gaze can turn people to stone, that you can curse and poison people with a couple words and the right ingredients.

The truth was you weren’t so glamorous. You knew your way around a medicine cabinet, sure, but nothing about poisons or magic spells. You didn’t have any special abilities to compensate or explain your reluctance for socialization. Just some overprotective parents and a shy disposition.

So when the handsome postmasters-son began to pay you special visits, you let your guard down. You let him walk you to and from the market, memorizing your weekend route. You let him in for a bit of tea late at night, especially when it seemed so cold, and told him where the spare key was kept. And yes, you even told him about your favorite secluded spot in the forest, where the sounds of civilization were far away, where you could be alone.

And here, in these last moments of your life, you can’t help but feel so naive.

“Hey, hey!”

A boot taps your cheek, shaking you out of your revelry. Your glassy eyes look over to your right.

It’s one of the local merchant’s boys, you think his name is Nicholas? It doesn’t really matter. All you knew about him was that he was a bit rough around the edges; always nicking things from pockets, looking up ladies skirts, and skipping his lessons. That’s what your dad complained about anyway.

A page is shoveled in front of you, dangling over your face. Your eyes take a while, but focus on the words. Nicholas’ boot heel digs into your neck.

“Read it out loud, or we’ll kill you.”

Clearly I’m going to die anyway dumbass, why should I help you?

You might’ve retorted, if you were in such a physical condition to do so. But instead, you do as you're told, and start speaking.

To your left, the postmaster’s son, Richard, sucks in a breath with anticipation. Any false composure he had while luring you here is gone, his feet tapping with excitement as he holds your left arm and lef bound spread eagle.

Holding your right leg is Markus, another merchant boy. He picks at his teeth.

“What are you guys going to wish for?” He whispers. It goes in your ear and out the other, too focused on forming coherent sentences.

“A full-harem of babes, obviously.” Simpers Hunter, the son of a landlord. He isn’t ugly, only a bit plain, and has enough money to boot. Compared to the other bachelors in town however, he has had little luck in procuring a courtship.

“A million coins could get you that and more, idiot. That’s what I’m wishing for.” Whispers Richard.

“What are you going to wish for Nic?” Asks Markus

“Oh my gods, will you guys shut the fuck up?”

Nic snarls, unconsciously digging his heel back into your throat. You choke and stutter, but keep going. The runes around you, written in your own blood, begin to glow.

All of the boy’s eyes widen and they step back from you. Your limbs sink like dead weight as the words begin to flow out your mouth with no thought. The paper with the chant drops to the ground, out of your sight, but it's like your brain has been reprogrammed; You know the rest, know it in your bones.

The grass begins to simmer and burn under the summoning circle, smoke swirling into formation above you. When the final word whispers out of you, you feel your body go lax. You don’t even remember tensing up

I guess this is it. Sorry Mom, Sorry Dad.

You clench your eyes, just hoping the demon will be quick. That it will at least leave a recognizable corpse.

“Holy shit.” You hear muttered, unsure by whom.

Your eyes are closed, body teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, but your senses are still intact. A hot wave of breath washes over your face and the ground below you trembles with heavy footsteps. The boys are quiet but you can hear their hearts pounding. They thrum with life, while yours slowly fades.

“Why have you summoned me, mortal?”

Even half-dead, your muscles tense in fear. The demon's voice is deep and resonates like a crowd talking all at once. It reeks of inhuman power and cracks like thunder.

A brief silence passes, before Nicholas finds his courage.

“We have come to ask for a wish.”

Later, when recounting the story, you will mention that the demon looked over to Nicolas, unamused, despite never seeing it yourself. The demon huffs, the heat of it blowing over you once more.

“I don’t believe I asked you.” The demon mutters. The cacophony of voices blend together into one, bland and emotionless. Even in your state however, you are able to decipher a couple of louder tones which overpower the others. They seem...angry.

“But...you…”

“I asked….”

Your eyes snap open as a wet droplet lands on your cheek. Lingering above you, drool seeping from their unnaturally sharp teeth, is the creature. It’s face resembles that of a goat, but sharp fangs stick out from their lower lips. Their eyes are golden and shine in the night, piercing right into yours. Despite the part of your body screaming out in terror, another part feels oddly….comforted. It’s why you don't startle when they brush a hand against your cheek, their thumb wiping away your tears. Their palm is warm, not like a blistering flame, but like a thick quilt. Like hot chocolate on a rainy day.

“......What do you need of me, little one?”

Their hand, padded and calloused, slides down your arm, closing up the large gash on your inner bicep. In another movement, they do the same to the other. Power and vitality seems to sink back into your body, drip by drip.

Words escape you, but not Nicolas.

“Excuse me, demon, but we're the ones who summoned you.” The sarcastic tone of his does little to hide the quivers of his fear, especially when the demon's neck turns toward him at an unnatural speed. Still, he persists. “Not her. And we want-”

“Do you take me for a blind fool?” The voice bellows, sending all the boys to their knees. Markus clutches his ears while Hunter whimpers on the ground. Nicolas falls back to the ground, eyes widen.  The demon stands to their full height, several feet above all of you. “Do you think I was born without smell, without sense?” The step away from your body, swiping at the ground with their fingers, taking a small bit of your blood with it.

The demon sticks their thumb and forefinger in front of Nicolas’s face, causing him to yelp and fall onto his back. “Is this your blood which forged the connection? Was it your words that spoke me into existence? Was it your body which came to the brink, wrenched open the door and pulled us both through?”

Nicolas, trembling like a leaf, shakes his head no. The demon’s eyes jerk up to the others. “And was it any of these young men?”  

Richard furiously shakes his head, while Hunter stays collapsed on the ground. Markus pushes himself away, hands still clamped around his ears. The demon sneers, before turning and walking back to you.

The demon kneels before propping your upper body up with a gentle touch. A comforting claw rubs your lower back while another paw rubs the tension out of your shoulders.

“Now, mistress, what may you ask of me?”

Your muscles may no longer tire from blood loss, but your mind truly feels like it’s on the brink of breaking. The demon, with fearsome fangs and a soft look, looks to you for an answer.

“I-I…” You mutter as the demon continues to massage your back. They hum.

“Take your time, it is alright. Rituals are difficult, I can only imagine the toll your body feels.” The mass of voices have synchronized, fading from a hundred to a single, harmonious tune. It is cavernously deep, but pleasant. It reminds you of the portly older man who used to read stories aloud every holiday.

You feel your body unconsciously turn towards your captors. Nicholas stays stuck to the ground, the whites of his eyes almost glowing in the darkness. The others have slowly moved to their knees, all terrified with shaky limbs, and look like they might make a run for it. Markus is slowly inching towards Nicholas’ shoulders, trying to lift him up to his senses.

For the first time in your life, a deep, boiling hatred burns your skin.

Cowards. You sneer, with all the malice stored in your reserves.

“I want-I want…” You stumble as the anger bubbles out of your belly. “I want them to hurt. To feel humiliated.” Nails bite into the palm of your hand, letting out blood as you clench knuckles. “I want everyone to know what they’ve done, who they are, every fault they’ve ever been guilty of. I want them alive, but I want them to burn.”

The demon smiles, pulling you in for a hug. You collapse into their embrace, keeping your eyes locked onto the boys, those rats. The demon hums a contented tune as they rub your back.

“As you wish, my master.”

#monster romance #demon x reader #reader insert #monster x reader #female reader #my writing

[ibijau]

Jin Rusong Lives pt12 / On AO3

Nie Huaisang discovers that it's not easy to kiss a pretty man when you have a job to do

When he was very young, a year or so after the death of their father, Nie Huaisang had wondered about his brother being single. Since he’d personally been something of a brat, and none too impressed with the changes that circumstances had forced upon his brother, he had come to the conclusion that Nie Mingjue just wasn’t nice enough for anyone to like him that way. 

Nie Huaisang, moved by pity, had promised his brother that he would stay with him all his life, but only if Nie Mingjue never made him attend sabre practice again. His noble sacrifice had been met with indifference, and Nie Mingjue had just sent him to train anyway, proving that he definitely was the hardest, coldest, least lovable person in the world, and deserved to be single.

Some years later, Nie Huaisang had once more wondered why his brother was yet unmarried. At that time, he had been mostly concerned by the fact that made him heir to Qinghe Nie’s leadership, a most horrible realisation to have when he only wished to enjoy his time in Gusu, kiss pretty people, and never learn a single thing in his life. 

He had at that time befriended Jiang Cheng, whose views on love and marriage were entirely unlike what Nie Huaisang felt himself. And then, there had also been that list of popular young bachelors. The second proved that Nie Mingjue was desirable, while the first offered the consideration that not everyone longed for a partner. Nie Huaisang had tried to accept his brother the way he accepted his friend, though it annoyed him that he'd have to be the one producing an heir. He’d already started taking notice of Lan Xichen around then, and no girl in the world could have been even half as beautiful.

Later still, after the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Huaisang once again reconsidered his opinion regarding Nie Mingjue’s situation. His brother wasn't quite as cold as he pretended, and it happened sometimes that he would let his gaze linger on a pretty girl, though never long enough to be noticed. Some of those girls would have made fine mistresses for the Unclean Realm, and could have given Nie Mingjue the heir which would ensure Nie Huaisang would never have to be sect leader. 

But as Nie Mingjue's temper deteriorated in the years leading to his death, after witnessing the violence with which he lost his life, the same violence their father had shown in his last moments, Nie Huaisang formed a new theory; if Nie Mingjue had never married, it was because he was scared of hurting others. 

For a decade, Nie Huaisang satisfied himself with that theory. It went well with the image he had of his brother, noble and self sacrificing. It also helped rekindle his hatred of Jin Guangyao by reminding him that it was his actions that had robbed Nie Mingjue of the loving family he deserved. But the truth, Nie Huaisang was now realising, might have been more simple than that.

It was just so damn complicated to have a sentimental life as a sect leader, and even more so while raising a child. 

Little Jin Rusong, bless him, was the sweetest child in the world, polite, obedient, affectionate. Considering how difficult his presence made things, Nie Huaisang felt immense sympathy for his late brother, who'd had to deal with a hellspawn like himself. Nie Mingjue might have thought that his little brother would embarrass him or throw a fit out of jealousy if he tried to flirt with anyone… and Nie Huaisang couldn't deny he would have taken great joy in doing just that. 

At least, Jin Rusong meant no harm when he'd cried out just as Nie Huaisang, after a decade of hopelessness, was about to be kissed again by the man he loved. With the rough evening he'd had, the little boy also couldn't be blamed for being worried about falling asleep alone, so that had ended any chance for Nie Huaisang to have more time with Lan Xichen right then. 

In the morning, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of seeing Lan Xichen enter the room at the same time as the servant who brought breakfast. Although they usually dined together these days, to spend breakfast together was entirely new. 

"I have been awake for a while," Lan Xichen explained before Nie Huaisang could ask a single question. "Even here I usually follow our rules and…" 

He trailed off, a touch of red blooming on his cheeks as he stared a moment at Nie Huaisang, before promptly averting his eyes. Perhaps he remembered that he’d boldly offered to break some of those rules only the night before. Nie Huaisang certainly hadn’t forgotten.

"I was awake and thought I'd come see you," Lan Xichen quickly finished. "I hope you don't mind?" 

"I'm always happy to have you in my room," Nie Huaisang retorted, delighted to see the other man's blush deepen. He'd missed flirting. It had been a long while since he'd done that, and he felt rusty, but he was sure Lan Xichen would be forgiving. 

The three of them sat down for breakfast. Nie Huaisang, quite innocently, tried to sit next to Lan Xichen rather than Jin Rusong, but the child protested against that, saying he wanted to be sitting close to Lan Xichen. He then proceeded to also monopolise the conversation, clearly delighted to have both of his uncles at his disposal. Both men still attempted to flirt a little, but eventually had to give up and settle for exchanging fond looks over the table.

When breakfast was over, Nie Huaisang helped Jin Rusong get dressed and ready for his day while Lan Xichen watched. They all three went to the classroom, and as they walked Lan Xichen stood a little too close, causing his hand to brush against Nie Huaisang every so often. At least, he did so until Jin Rusong grabbed both their hands, seeming in an excellent mood that morning and determined to enjoy both his uncles at once.

When Jin Rusong had been handed to his teacher, there was a brief moment of awkwardness. Nie Huaisang stood silent near the classroom door, suddenly as nervous as a teenager with a crush. His only comfort was to see Lan Xichen equally anxious.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Lan Xichen suggested. “We could…” he hesitated, pink dusting his face, and finished miserably: “we could walk.”

“I’d love to walk,” Nie Huaisang replied with too much eagerness.

Lan Xichen smiled, looking more shy and uncertain than he’d done the previous night. Nie Huaisang also found it harder to think about renewing their old connection, now that it was light around them. Without darkness to soften the world around them, he could remember every reason he’d given ten years earlier to argue against their little romance, every fear of a political disaster, of blackmail if they were discovered, of losing the last true friend he had. And yet even like that, Nie Huaisang knew he could not resist his feelings, not this time.

He was tired of denying himself the things he wanted, he thought as he reached out to take Lan Xichen’s hand.

And that was when Nie Funyu found them, and scolded Nie Huaisang for forgetting that he’d agreed to see a local magistrate that morning about a series of mysterious disappearances in a nearby town. The magistrate in question had been waiting for a while already, and was quite unhappy about it. Nie Huaisang had no choice but to follow his first disciple, and could not even offer Lan Xichen a chance for a lunch together, as it had already been agreed he would eat with that magistrate.

“Duty comes first,” Lan Xichen said with a thin smile that lacked its usual warmth.

It was a comfort, Nie Huaisang supposed, to know that he wasn’t the only one irritated by this unexpected interruption.

The meeting with that magistrate went well. Once the situation was explained, Nie Huaisang offered different ways to deal with it, so that some important people who appeared involved would not be offended if they were innocent, nor allowed a chance to escape he’d they’d done something nefarious. The magistrate appeared satisfied by the solution offered, as well as by the meal. Sadly, the man was of a curious nature, and hinted very strongly that he would like to be given a tour of the Unclean Realm, admitting he was fascinated with cultivation, though lacking any talent himself. 

Nie Huaisang had no choice but to show him around. This, in turn, meant that the amount of work he would normally have done during the afternoon piled up. Even when the magistrate had left, Nie Huaisang found himself busy with correspondence, before having to give some lessons to the juniors, as Nie Funyu occasionally insisted he did, “so the little ones know who you are, zongzhu”.

Then some other business came up, so that by the time Nie Huaisang was finally free to join Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong for dinner, they were almost done eating and he was exhausted. Even if he’d still had the energy to think of flirting, Jin Rusong happened to be in a chatty and joyful mood, demanding to play, and Nie Huaisang had to oblige until both of them were too sleepy to go on. Lan Xichen was very graceful about it, and offered to keep Jin Rusong for the night so that Nie Huaisang had a chance to sleep more deeply.

The offer was immediately taken, and Nie Huaisang stumbled back to his room where he dropped on his bed half dressed, too tired to bother with clothes.

The following day showed promises of more contradictions to Nie Huaisang’s plans. While he would have wanted to finally continue his conversation with Lan Xichen, as soon as he was done with his breakfast, some juniors came to find him to complain about a problem they were having. Someone’s cousin had said something about someone else’s fiancée, who happened to be close friends with the young master of a small sect who now threatened everyone with a duel. 

It was only a small dispute, but Nie Huaisang had seen what happened to arguments allowed to fester, so he gave the situation his full attention and wrote right away to some of the people concerned in an attempt to make everyone calm down. But then, since he had gone to his office to write those letters, Nie Funyu found him there and took the chance to make him review some bills that he thought were not quite right.

It was nearly noon when Lan Xichen knocked on the door of Nie Huaisang’s office. He appeared slightly disappointed to find that Nie Huaisang was not alone, which Nie Huaisang thought funny. Nie Funyu did not share his amusement, and his mood turned sour when Lan Xichen asked if he might keep them company. Nie Huaisang promptly agreed, which annoyed his first disciple. It would take a while until Nie Funyu no longer resented Lan Xichen for his former friendship with Jin Guangyao, but he would have to get over it. Nie Huaisang intended to keep Lan Xichen in his life.

He just wished they could have half a shichen to themselves to decide how to make that work.

An impossible wish, it seemed.

Still, at long last, lunch time came to free Nie Huaisang from his work. Not only that, but he knew that Nie Funyu was teaching all afternoon, meaning it would be that much easier to avoid work for a little while. 

Lunch was unmemorable. Some elders insisted that Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen eat with them, complaining that their sect leader had neglected them lately. It was not entirely untrue, but Nie Huaisang wished he could have neglected those elders today too. It wasn't even possible to chat with Lan Xichen in such company, though since they were sitting next to each other, their hands accidentally touched frequently. 

After they were done eating, Nie Huaisang promptly asked Lan Xichen if he would mind checking something with him in his quarter. Just as quickly, Lan Xichen agreed, and they both walked there a little more quickly than was dignified for two sect leaders, worried about more interruptions. 

There were none. Nobody stopped them on their way to Nie Huaisang’s quarters, and they were allowed to finally be alone together again. Nie Huaisang felt like a mischievous teenager trying to escape parental supervision to get naughty with their crush. He found that he quite enjoyed that. He hadn’t felt this young in years.

"I'm glad you're taking your duties more seriously, but surely your sect can function without you sometimes," Lan Xichen said as they closed the door behind them.

His voice warried with such petulance that Nie Huaisang almost laughed. 

"Xichen, were you getting impatient maybe?" came the teasing answer. 

A slight frown appeared on Lan Xichen's face, before he stepped closer and took Nie Huaisang’s hand. 

"Yes, I was." 

He said it so simply, as if it were evident. Perhaps it was, after having waited so many years for this. Nie Huaisang was hardly any better. Patience had been his main quality for a while, but now he was tired of waiting.

"Well, we're here now," he said, breathless. "I'm all yours, Lan Huan." 

Lan Xichen shivered at the use of that name, a first between them, and squeezed Nie Huaisang’s hand, with a tender smile on his lips. 

That smile disappeared when there was a knock on the door and Lan Xichen glared at it. Nie Huaisang felt just as disappointed, but was starting to find some humour in the situation. He almost laughed as he freed his hand from Lan Xichen's. 

Nie Mingjue was well avenged for every bit of trouble his brother had caused him. 

“Come in,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Oh. Jin Yixin, is there a problem?”

Jin Yixin came into the room and bowed with cold elegance, while at her side Jin Rusong tried to copy her posture. He looked very serious, the way he always did around Jin Yixin, clearly trying to impress his teacher and prove that he was a worthy student.

“I come to Nie zongzhu to make a request,” she said. “Some of the concepts I’m trying to explain to the young master would profit from outdoor demonstrations. I was hoping you would allow me to take him outside of the Unclean Realm? I’ve tried using the gardens to make my point, but they are too touched by human minds and it does not work.”

The request made Nie Huaisang frown. 

It was nothing particularly strange, Nie teachers also took the younger juniors past the walls of the Unclean Realm sometimes, just for a shichen, to show something about… energies? It might have to do with energies. Nie Huaisang hadn’t paid attention as a child, and he still struggled with some of those concepts as an adult. What he understood, though, was that those concepts were important to cultivate in a solid, healthy manner, and he didn’t want to deprive Jin Rusong of a chance to learn well.

“Where would you go? And when?”

“There is a little field behind the Unclean Realm that’s uncultivated, and well within your borders,” Jin Yixin explained. “I was thinking of going there. Perhaps this afternoon? Of course it can wait if you’d rather check the place yourself first.”

“No, I think I see what you mean,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I used to go there sometimes to admire the view of the mountains, and to watch the birds that live around. I suppose there’s no harm…”

He hesitated. The idea of letting Jin Rusong leave the Unclean Realm, however briefly, however well accompanied, was deeply unpleasant. At the same time, a little field trip like that was likely to tire out the child, and if he could be convinced to go to sleep early…

They wouldn’t be going very far, he thought, and Jin Yixin came with the approval of both Jin Rulan and Jiang Wanyin. Nie Funyu, who had seen her train and even got to spar with her once, also vouched for her being a very strong cultivator. She’d taken part in the Sunshot Campaign even. Clearly she was someone who could be trusted with Jin Rusong’s safety.

“Take some of my disciples with you,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “And take some distress signals too. I don’t think Qinghe Nie’s reputation has fallen so low that anyone would dare to cause trouble so close to the Unclean Realm, but let’s take every precaution. SongSong, you will be very good and listen to your teacher, won’t you?”

The little boy enthusiastically promised, and was still grinning when Jin Yixin and him left the room to go find some people who might accompany them.

As soon as the door closed, Lan Xichen pressed Nie Huaisang against the nearest wall and kissed him, unwilling to risk any further delay. After a brief moment of surprise, Nie Huaisang wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and pulled him closer, melting into the kiss.

It felt nothing like that miserable kiss they’d exchanged on the day of Nie Mingjue’s funeral. Back then it had felt like a farewell between them, while now Nie Huaisang could hope there would be more of this in the future. Lan Xichen’s passion in kissing him, the way their bodies were pressed together, certainly promised more.

They kissed against the wall for a while, impatiently clinging to each other. Then Lan Xichen, always so clever, suggested that there was a sofa right there, which might be more comfortable than to remain standing. Nie Huaisang felt tempted to point out that if comfort was an issue, his bed wasn’t very far either, and it would be even more comfortable. But the sofa was closer, and there was no urgency. They had found each other again at last, and had the rest of their lives to explore all they could want from that.

Although they’d started sitting on the sofa, before too long they were lying on it, Nie Huaisang straddling Lan Xichen, kissing him more slowly now as they allowed their hands to wander, enjoying accidental brushes of skin on skin, but making no effort to discard their layers of clothing. There was no rush, not now that they had each other, and Nie Huaisang thought he could have happily spent the rest of his life like this, nestled on a sofa with the man he loved, lazily kissing him.

Time passed around them without their notice, until a knock on the door forced them to return again to the world around them.

Nie Huaisang’s first thought was that he had to be cursed to never enjoy a single moment of peace. Then, noticing how the shadows had grown longer, he realised with some embarrassment that they’d been together like that for a long while, and it wasn’t so surprising that someone should be needing him for something or other. He tried to get up, only for Lan Xichen to hold him by the hips, keeping him in place. Nie Huaisang almost laughed, and seeing how handsome Lan Xichen was like this, flushed and with his lips so red, he couldn’t resist leaning for one more kiss.

Another knock on the door, insistent enough to make it shake, put an end to that. Nie Huaisang, surprised by such urgency, stood up. Lan Xichen did not stop him again, looking puzzled as well, and followed him when he went to open the door, both of them trying to put order to their appearance. 

One of his disciples was on the other side, looking distraught and breathless from running. 

“Nie zongzhu, there’s a problem,” he explained, speaking so fast it made him hard to understand. “The men who went with Jin Yixin and Jin xiao-gongzi have returned. They’ve been beaten up, they say they were ambushed and attacked.”

“What?” Nie Huaisang gasped, so shocked he had to support himself against the doorframe. “How…" A thought crossed his mind, and he grabbed the man's collar. "Where's Rusong?”

The man shook his head.

“Zonghzhu, he’s been taken.”

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin rusong #jin rusong lives #has it been nearly 9 months since I updated this fic? maybe. Who are you?? the fanfic police??? #I'm procrastinating so hard on the time travel fic lol #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes

[everlarkficexchange]

How Katniss Everdeen Got Her Groove Back

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 34: Modern AU where a forty year old Katniss has shut herself off from the world from fear of getting hurt. After her sister dies she realizes how isolated she is and now wants to open herself up to love, but hasn’t a clue where to begin. Everlark HEA - the details of how they meet and what Peeta’s been up to are entirely up to you. :) [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: E

The room’s dark. There’s only one small lamp burning in the corner, but that makes the single candle in the cupcake brighter than it would have been if the entire area were lit. It’s a somber celebration, but that doesn’t make much difference. It’s as it should be.

“Happy birthday, dear Katniss… Happy birthday to you.”

As the last note fades into silence, Katniss whispers a birthday wish and blows out the candle.

“Happy birthday to me,” she mumbles. She’s alone and tired and feeling older than she thought she could. In the grand scheme of things, forty isn’t that many years, but the difference between her fourth and fifth decades seems like lightyears. She’s halfway (or more) through life, and she’s hiding from it.

No one could really blame her for running—not with the experiences she’s faced. Her father gone as a young man leaving Katniss, her mother, and her younger sister Prim alone with practically no income and empty stomachs that gnawed at her insides for months as she fell asleep. Her mother falling into addiction to anti-depressants and opiates leaving Katniss to keep the household together so she and Prim wouldn’t be taken by child services and separated. Her beloved sister gone in a house fire that ripped through the apartment building where she’d stayed while enrolled in med school in a neighboring state. That’s enough tragedy for any one person, and that doesn’t even count her own pain and disappointments during the past forty years.

She’s suffered plenty of both. There’ve been days when she has no idea how she continues to function, but she puts one foot in front of the other repeatedly, doggedly, hoping against hope that something will go right for her. The odds should be in her favor, but they never seem to be. Instead, she watches as the world goes by and wonders if she’s brave enough to step back into society and join the rest of the living. She’s been in mourning for long enough.

Forty. It’s a scary number, but it’s also a little motivating. With a shake of her head, she decides. It’s time. Prim would want her to be happy. She’d be furious at the way Katniss has shut herself off from everyone in order to protect herself. If there’s anything that can drive her out of her shell, it’s thinking about the disappointment that would shine in her sister’s eyes if she were still alive.

“It’s time to rejoin the living, Everdeen.”

Her voice is small as it echoes in her empty apartment, but that’s not the intimidating part. What’s terrifying is that she has absolutely no idea how to get back out there. It’s been almost a decade since she bothered, and she can’t help wondering if maybe she’s waited too long. It’s possible there’s an expiration date, and she’s past it.

It’s late, and she’s tired. Heaving a sigh, she heads to her new bedroom and plugs in the airbed to blow it up. Her belongings won’t arrive for another few days, and the thought of sleeping on the hard floor is the reason for her last minute purchase at the local department store. Shaking out freshly laundered sheets as she retrieves them from the dryer, she inhales the clean scent and tucks the corners onto the air mattress. A pillow and blanket that made the cut when she purged her possessions before her interstate move provides a tiny hint of home. Flicking off the overhead light, she closes her eyes and drifts into sleep. She counts the fact that she only wakes from nightmares three times as a win.

****

“I like that there,” she mutters to herself as she adjusts the picture on the shelf to the left of her television. It’s her favorite of the ones she and Prim took together before her sister started med school.

They’d been so happy, arms wrapped around each other and a rare smile gracing her own lips. As it always had, Prim’s grin stretches across her face, and her blue eyes snap with excitement in the image. She deserved so much better than to become a human torch because someone was stupid enough to not know how to douse a grease fire. The senselessness of it all hits Katniss again. Someone cooked dinner, and that act killed her sister. Prim, who only wanted to heal people, died because an idiot didn’t know how to make bacon and then tried to douse the flames with water.

A knock sounds at her door and shakes her out of her reverie. She isn’t expecting anyone, but a second knock convinces her she shouldn’t ignore it. It could be her landlord, and the last thing she wants is a grumpy Haymitch Abernathy yelling at her because she’s inadvertently broken some rule she doesn’t even know exists in the first place. Tossing her braid over her left shoulder, she crosses her apartment and answers the door.

“Can I help you?”

She’s surprised she can get the words out of her mouth. The man standing there definitely isn’t her landlord, and he’s not old, grumpy, or drunk like Haymitch obviously has been every time she’s seen him. The guy standing in front of her must be about her age, maybe a few years younger, and he has shockingly blue eyes which remind her of her sister’s, as well as the same ashy blonde hair that falls in a shock of curls over his forehead. She has the sudden urge to reach up and push them back, but she keeps her hands at her sides. It would be exceptionally inappropriate to grope a total stranger, even if he is standing in her doorway with a smile and a paper bag that smells something like heaven.

“I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Your next door neighbor. I brought you some pastries.”

“Pasties?” She squeaks out the word and immediately wants to smack herself. She sounds a little like a mouse, while his voice makes her insides vibrate. Also, what did she just say?

Peeta does a double take before bursting into laughter. “Pastries, not pasties. I’m not into that— Well, I mean…uh… I mean, I could be, but not the first time I meet a woman.”

His face is bright red, but hers feels like it’s flaming. She can’t believe she said that and crosses her arms unconsciously to cover her breasts before uncrossing them just as quickly. She’s not sure which is worse at drawing attention to the fact that she has nipples that pasties would cover, and… Hell, she’s spiraling.

“I’m sorry,” she babbles. “That was unseemly.”

“It’s fine. Hilarious, actually.” He grins and gives her a onceover, which makes her blush even harder.

“Well, pastries make way more sense and smell a lot better. But, why?” She’s not sure if that sounds rude or not, but it’s better than what she’s already blurted.

“I’m a baker,” he offers in explanation. “Just a little welcome to the building, uh…?”

“Uh…?”

She can’t think. He’s staring at her, and it makes her extremely uncomfortable in a very peculiar way. She’s not able to name it, but there’s something bubbling below the surface. If she concentrates really hard, she could probably identify the feeling. However, that’s not an option when Baker Boy is standing there with a perplexed look.

“You are?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Just moved in. You probably already knew that. I, uh, thank you. This is great.”

“You’re welcome. Welcome to the building, Katniss, Katniss Everdeen. Let me know if you need anything. I always have eggs and sugar and more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. Think on it.”

With that, he disappears into his own apartment, and she’s left holding the bag. Literally.

In a trance, she crosses to her kitchen and sets the pastries down on the counter. Flustered, she pulls a bun out and sinks her teeth into a little bite of decadence that’s got to be illegal in all fifty states, Canada, Mexico, and half of Europe. It tastes so good it’s sinful. It’s doughy and filled with cheese, and she moans so loudly she wonders if he can hear her through their shared wall.

“Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles. “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.”

She sits there with a grin on her face for a stupid amount of time before realizing she’s hungry for more, and it’s not necessarily baked goods she wants.

****

Katniss rounds the corner and smacks into a wall. With a loud oof and a screech, she flails in her attempt to stay upright and keep her groceries from falling around her. Just when she’s about to lose it all, strong arms grab her and pull her upright. Relieved, she looks up and falls into the blue pools of her neighbor’s eyes.

“Easy there,” he says with the hint of a smile. “Where’s the fire?”

She almost says, “In my pants.” She really does, but she’s made a fool out of herself enough with him already. She frees herself from his clutches and congratulates herself on remaining calm, and then she sees what he’s wearing. Which isn’t much.

“Holy hell,” she murmurs at the sight of sweat-soaked skin and form-fitting running shorts.

“Sorry. I just got back from a run.”

“I…yeah. I see that.”

She can see some other stuff, too, and it is impressive. She can’t stop looking at him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, and she’s just told herself a few days ago that she needs to get back out there and has no idea how. She did say that, and here he is. She doesn’t even have to leave her building to find an opportunity. There’s no way she’s this lucky.

“Can I help with those?” He nods at the bags she’s holding and reaches out to take the ones hanging from her wrists. He brushes her hand with his, and her insides sizzle.

“Sure.”

She’s going to seduce him. Or let him seduce her. Or get him drunk and take advantage of him. Or something.

Every single fiber in her body tingles. It feels like waking up after a decade long nap and feeling simultaneously ravenous and powerful beyond belief. As he follows her into her apartment, she scans the area and decides to just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Her neighbor hates her? Well, that would be terrible, but she can move. That’s how turned on she is by him. She’ll risk a broken lease.

“You can just put them there,” she says softly and runs her hand down his arm. He freezes and looks at her, and she stands her ground. Maybe she’s not thinking straight, but she wants him. Now.

“Katniss?”

She presses into him and trails a finger down her bare chest. She wipes a sweat droplet from his skin and bites her bottom lip.

“Yes, Peeta?”

“I’m not misreading this, am I?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and tips her head back. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” he drawls.

Looking directly at him, she says, “I really hope so.”

“Oh, hell.”

His mouth captures hers in a searing kiss, and she turns off her brain. She has no intention of thinking, only feeling for the next however long. His tongue is in her mouth, her hands are on his ass, and his sweat dampens her clothes.

Peeta hoists her into the air and wraps her legs around his waist. He stumbles backward to deposit her on the edge of the countertop and rucks up her shirt to slide his hands along her waist. Frantic, she tugs at his waistband, indicating she’d prefer he lose the shorts, and he growls into her mouth when she slips them over his hips. She cups his backside, pulling him between her legs and moans against him.

“Please,” she gasps. “Fuck, please.”

He’s frenetic, all power and kinetic energy as he rolls her leggings down her thighs, baring her to him. When she bites his lower lip, he grunts and shoves his hands between her legs. He pushes inside her roughly, and she whimpers at his pace. His thumb’s on her clit, and his middle finger plunders her as their tongues tangle and dance together.

She’s got him in her hand, jerking and tugging as he swells in her palm. It’s a solid weight there, but she wants it inside her. She doesn’t have time to look. She’s too enthralled in what his lips are saying as they mate with hers.

Katniss tugs one of her feet free and yanks him to her with her legs. His shaft is hot against her slit. She begs for him with her hands and body, but he pulls back slightly to catch her gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice ragged and broken. She nods frantically, and he moans in the back of his throat. “I’ll pull out. I promise.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

She’d agree to about anything as long as he gives it to her hard. Then he’s inside her, stretching her as she calls his name. He’s big enough that it’s uncomfortable at first, until her body adjusts to the intrusion and she’s aching for more. By the time she’s relaxed, he’s pumping into her with her name falling from his lips as he bites and licks at her jawline.

“Tug my hair,” she manages to instruct, and he yanks on her braid so hard her eyes water. It’s sexy as hell, and she grapples at his back in an attempt to pull him further inside her. He’s good at this, she realizes. Really good at it, and she thanks her lucky stars she’s the fortunate recipient of such a fantastic experience. He’s doing everything he can to make it good for her, and it really, really, really is.

What they’re doing is so messy, but she doesn’t care. She owns bleach and anti-bacterial cleaning supplies. She just purchased them, in fact, and she’s going to need all of them if the mess between her legs is any indication. She’s quickly losing control, fucking against him as hard as she can.

Skin slaps together, sweat pours off them both, and he nuzzles his face into her shirt. If they had more time, she’d take it off for him—maybe she’ll wear pasties next time just to blow his mind—but they’re careening toward a climax faster than she knows how to handle. She’s desperate for more friction, so eager that she rubs herself as his thrusts stutter and falter.

“I gotta pull out. I’m gonna— shit!”

He yanks free, and she catches the sight of him before her eyes roll back in her head. His skin is pink and glistening with moisture from her body. The first splash of his climax hits warm and wet on her leg, and she arches her back as waves roll through her. Her hand cramps as she contorts it. Her hips buck, and then she’s reaching for him. She clings as her body tenses and releases repeatedly.

When it’s over, she huffs several breaths before blinking open her eyes. Her t-shirt hem has fallen against her thigh, and it’s marked with his ejaculate, as is most of her thigh and stomach. He pants into her ear, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That’s fine with her, although it surprises her how affectionate he’s being in the aftermath of a quickie in her kitchen.

“Katniss, that was—”

“Something we need to do again.”

“I think it gives new meaning to the phrase ‘welcome wagon.’”

“Because you want me to ride you next time?”

“Next time?” His eyes are blown wide, his pupils dilated as he realizes what she’s saying. “You want there to be a next time?”

“I’m not sure I want this one to be over.”

He flushes at her suggestion, but he’s a very helpful neighbor. Before he leaves to head back to his own apartment, he cleans up and then eats to his heart’s content. She’s pretty satiated from his visit, too.

#hutchhitched #prompt 34 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

[ghosts-and-swords]

Before Romance Dawn

Mihawk has a crew but has been keeping away from them for more than a decade to hide them from the government's radar. 

Each crewmate had their own coffin boat they used for stealthy attacks.

He met Shanks some time before Roger's execution, but their friendly banters began almost right afterwards. Mihawk's goal had always been to become the strongest swordsman in the world, and Shanks became aware of how weak he was when his captain was executed, so he promised himself to become the very best as well.

At some point, the two of them were considered part of the “Supernovas” of their generation. (I compare them to Luffy and Law to some degree).

Shanks does know and is friendly with Mihawk's crew, just as the swordsman is with the Red Hair Pirates. He keeps their secret and supports Mihawk's play pretend to make everyone believe he's a one-man-crew.

Sometime before Shanks stayed for a year at Dawn Island and lost his arm, their fights became so stupidly dangerous their crews helped the locals evacuate the area for safety.

Eventually they both grew desperate there wasn't a clear winner and they decided to call it a truce, only to fight on a daily basis over the dumbest things.

Over the course of a single year, they had dance-offs, sing-offs, food wars, eating competitions and many many other dumb stuff Mihawk would rather not talk about ever again.

Shanks, on the other hand, won’t shut up about them.

Hawks is a very good cook and a terrific dancer because of that, tho.

Mihawk accepted the title as Shichibukai ten years ago, only because he was bored. Shanks had already lost his arm and mostly no one was able to stand against him in battle, so he took the position to be left alone.

The reason his crew managed to stay off the radar was because Mihawk alone became really famous thanks to his rivalry with Shanks. Though the crew was feared, most people never knew their captain was none other than Hawk Eye Mihawk. When they vanished from sight, most people believed they had been either captured or killed.

Before the timeskip

Mihawk is Shanks' son goth-father (lol. And yes, you know what child I'm talking about you cannot take that headcanon away from me). If Mihawk ever got a child, he'd pick Shanks as their godfather too.

He hasn't considered parenthood as a viable option, but if he did, he'd rather have a daughter (*coughcoughcough*).

His attendance ratio to meetings with the government is below 40%. He only attends when absolutely necessary mostly because he doesn't want to lose his privilege of being left alone.

He's not friendly with the other Warlords, specially Doflamingo, Crocodile and Moria, knowing of the abuse they make of their positions.

Mihawk was ok with Kuma, though he's often tired of his religious preaching. He knew of his alliance with the Revolutionaries before turning into a Pacifista, but doesn’t dwell on it. He’s kinda bitter he sent him Zoro and Perona, though, even if he grew to like the two of them.

He'd never met Hancock before Marineford, but had heard many things about the Snake Princess that made him want to fight against her at some point.

He was actually friendly towards Jinbei until he got imprisoned at Impel Down, but he always believed he was kinda foolish for risking too much in defying Big Mom and joining Luffy’s crew.

Law seemed a promising warlord and another interesting rival swordsman, but it was more than obvious he was just using the government as a stepping stone. He wishes he could also fight him at some point.

He doesn’t have Blackbeard in good regards for his underhanded methods. He didn’t like him because of his beef with Shanks, and he likes him even less afterwards what happened in Marineford. He’s intrigued by his Devil Fruits’ powers, but doesn’t wish to fight against him.

Mihawk knows Buggy is Shanks' friend but cannot believe he was appointed as a Shichibukai. He'd fought against him briefly at Marineford and he thinks Buggy is just one very, very lucky idiot with a bothersome Devil Fruit.

The moment Weevil was appointed as a warlord, Mihawk knew the government no longer needed them. 

Living with Zoro & Perona Pt. 1

Mihawk felt he had lost a spark until he met Zoro. When they clashed in East Blue, he took a liking to the young swordsman because he greatly reminded him of himself when he was younger.

We joke a lot about Mihawk’s chronic depression, but I hc that he actually suffers from it. He has a strict training regime and often follows a tight schedule and diet to keep it at bay. 

If he feels like his depression is hitting him hard, he stops drinking for a while. He doesn’t take medication.

It was getting really bad until Zoro defied him and later on he and Perona crashed into his home. Ever since the three of them had been living together, he has felt his depressive episodes are shorter and not as hard to overcome.

He has never told anyone about this, though he is sure Shanks and his former crewmates know.

At first he was really annoyed Kuma had sent him two children to take care, but as time went by, he began to enjoy their company a lot. Zoro was a good practice partner and Perona had similar tastes in decor, books and fashion.

He still thinks they are annoying, mostly when they fight, but he gets them to shut up real fast.

Mihawk kills bugs around the castle for Perona, after too much nagging.

He forbid Zoro from drinking while mastering haki because he knows that’s what works for him when he needs to focus.

You’d never hear him say it out loud, but he’s quite attached to the humandrills. When they became a bit more amicable, he’d usually talk to them and pat them.

Contrary to what Perona and Zoro initialy thought, Mihawk is a dog person. He doesn’t dislike cats, but he freaking loves dogs. 

He would never want to have one, since he believes he’d not be able to take care of another living being.

Perona considered giving him one, but decided it was better not to piss him off or she’d end up taking care of the pup.

In some timeline in which they keep living together (andmarryandhaveadaughter) they do adopt a dog and call him Cerberus. Mihawk likes crafting armor for him.

Mihawk is good at remembering important dates and very good at giving gifts. He once gave Zoro a silver flask and Perona a very beautiful sundress. In return, they try to give him cool gifts for his birthday, but they never manage to win against him lol

Mihawk pretends he doesn’t know where a certain cocoa tree came from. Perona knows.

TBC Other Headcanons 1 | 2 | 3 

#dracule mihawk #one piece #one piece headcanons #headcanons #my writing #shanks

[bluenet13]

As Tears Go By

Written for @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: NCIS Los Angeles

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye.

Prompt: Trying Not to Cry

Summary: Losing his job at LAPD forces Deeks to make comparisons to the one man he never wants to feel similar to. But sometimes all that is needed is some perspective, and luckily Kensi is there to help. (Set in December of season 12, after Deeks is fired from LAPD and before Hetty offers him a position at FLETC).

Links: ff.net - AO3

"Hey baby, I'm almost ready." Pants on but still in her bra, Kensi continued to towel dry her hair as she walked outside of the bathroom. Stopping shortly as she noticed Deeks still in bed. "Why aren't you ready? Are you feeling alright?"

Not able to ignore her concern any longer, Kensi reached a hand towards her husband's forehand, looking for signs of a fever that weren't going to be there. Deeks' disinterest when she had offered to shower together should have been a red flag but she had decided to play it cool and accept his explanation that he had taken a late shower when he came home from tending the bar. But now, finding the usual early riser and basically Santa's little helper still tangled in their bed sheets when they were supposed to be going out to pick their tree, Kensi realized she was missing something.

Mumbling something to himself, Deeks swatted Kensi's hand away and turned to stare at the opposite side of the room. "I'm okay," he eventually whispered, his words understandable this time around.

Nodding and sighing at the same time, Kensi tried to tamper down her emotions, walking back to the bathroom and continuing to get dressed. Maybe Deeks was really tired and just needed five more minutes.

Dressed and ready, Kensi picked his pants that accentuated his body in all the right places and the blue sweatshirt she loved as it made the color in his eyes bright even shinier, and dropped the clothes on the bed, partially over Deeks so he would get the hint, then left the room to make some coffee. Hoping the scent of fresh brew would do the trick and push Deeks out of bed.

Thirty minutes, two cups of coffee, and three pastries later, Kensi gave up hoping time would be enough, and decided to take matters into her own hands. "Hey Deeks, I brought you a coffee," Kensi said as she came into the room.

Mumbling again, Deeks pointed to the nightstand with disinterest, promptly dropping his arm back into the bed.

At a loss of what else to try, Kensi sat on the bed and began playing with Deeks' blonde locks. "Baby, what's going on? Talk to me. Did something happen at the bar? Are you feeling unwell?"

"I'm okay, Kens," Deeks said, doing his best to sound more convincing this time, but still continuing to stare at the wall, practically raising an invisible wall in between them, and now raising a million red flags in Kensi's mind.

"Then what's going on? Last week you kept going on and on about picking the best and biggest tree in the lot. You even wanted to get it before Thanksgiving and I had to convince you to wait a little bit longer. Now, you don't even want to get out of bed. So, what's happening here? What am I missing?" Kensi's tone had gone lower with each new word, her last question barely above a whisper. "Please, baby, let me in. Let me help." She added after some minutes had passed and Deeks hadn't spoken a single word.

"I just don't think we should be spending money on a tree right now," Deeks admitted softly.

"What? Why n...?" Kensi cut her question short as realization dawned on her. Deeks was a jokester but he felt things strongly and his emotions ran deeper than most. "Is this about LAPD? Deeks, we already spoke about that, we know it's temporary."

"And what if it isn't?" Deeks asked with a pained exhale, "we shouldn't be making emotional purchases when we're living on one salary alone. We also want to buy a house and start a family. All that takes money... money we don't have. Especially once my situation becomes permanent, and we both know it probably will. I mean, the only person that could have defended me left to become Commander of SWAT." As if an invisible barrier had lifted with the admission, Deeks finally got out of bed and sat next to Kensi. A hand searching for hers, while the other nervously played with the hem of the sweatshirt Kensi had brought him.

Having finally gotten to the root of the matter, Kensi allowed herself a brief smile to herself, before it turned sad and dejected, as she realized she couldn't offer Deeks the certainty and finality he needed. So she tried what she thought was the next best thing. "I'm sorry about Bates, Deeks. I know he gave you crap constantly but I also know he was good to you when it mattered. Even then, what you mean and what you have done for the LAPD is still true, regardless of your relationship with him, and they're fools if they don't realize what they would be losing if they let you go," Kensi began angrily, then softened her tone. "As for us, the house can wait until your situation is straightened out. We still have my Federal Agent salary. It's not as lucrative working for the government, but it's more than enough to get the tree. It really doesn't cost that much and if anything, it shouldn't be more than the overtime I worked for the last two cases alone."

"Living off my salary's wife is not really how I imagined life would be in my forties," Deeks said, but the harsh nature of his words softened by the way his voice began to break at the end.

"Where is this coming from, Deeks? Since when do you compare yourself to women in that way?" Kensi had other, more hostile words in mind, but her intention was to help Deeks, not start an argument. But his words had brought back old memories of dealing with sexist cops and misogynist men when starting her career in law enforcement, and she would be lying if she said it didn't sting.

Pulling back his hand from Kensi's, Deeks ran it through his face, then over his eyes in frustration. "I'm sorry, Kens. I didn't mean it that way. It's just…" A lump pressed it way up his throat and his eyes glazed over with tears, but he wiped them angrily. "My father also lost his job once. And that's when everything changed," Deeks said in a single exhale. And with his last word, his shoulders sagged, as his eyes began to cloud again and his breath hitched.

And there it was. The real reason behind Deeks' attitude. The honesty and sadness in his words, making Kensi's anger evaporate in a second, because she knew how much it must have hurt Deeks to make that admission.

"Oh, baby, you're nothing like your father." Bidding herself some time to find better words, Kensi pulled Deeks into her arms. Her heart breaking as he tensed at the same time a soft sniff escaped him.

"I might not be. But the situation is." Deeks closed his eyes as he continued, feeling the tears that were already pressing against his lids. "He was never the best father, but he was good and he always tried his best. We were happy. Then one year he lost his job, and at first, he tried again. But eventually he grew frustrated and began taking it on my mom. Then on me. By that time, he had already spent all his nights drinking his savings away at the local bar and there was no going back." When Deeks was done, he opened his eyes again and rubbed them with a heavy sigh.

"Deeks, baby, wait. Your situations are nothing alike. Many people lose their jobs but it's not the end of the line. Just a temporary setback." Not all people lose their jobs and become your father, she wanted to add, but decided against it. Drawing back, she took Deeks by the shoulders and stared at his blue eyes deeply, hoping that in her steady gaze he would find proof to believe her words were nothing but the truth.

"Maybe I'm not drinking it per se, but I saw alcohol destroy my father, and for some time, my mother too. And what did I do? Pour our savings into the very same thing that was my family's downfall." With that admission, Deeks' eyes again filled with tears, but he squeezed them shut, refusing to let any of them fall. As a child he had cried for his father, but as an adult he had promised himself to never shed another tear for the man.

"The Squid and the Dagger is not that. I admit, at first I didn't see it. But now I do. Your bar, our bar... is not a place for drunkards and violent men. It's a place for family, and joy and fun. When have we seen the team out of work so often? When have we spent so much family time with them? Never. Your idea, your dream, did that. It gave us the place we all needed to feel welcomed and at home. It gave Nell and Callen a place to mourn when they lost their mother and father. It gave Sam a place to start a new relationship away from the places he used to frequent with Michelle. It's giving Eric a place to see us and stay close to the team now that he's a billionaire and his calling in life has grown from just doing good with NCIS. It's giving us a new purpose, and a place to have the family we lacked before."

"But, we already have NCIS for that. We have OSP and the boatshed," Deeks tried to argue. Then he sniffed again, eyes burning.

"NCIS is where we work, Deeks. But it's not a home. It took me a long time to realize that. You're my home, and Callen, Sam, Hetty, Eric, Nell, even Fatima, and Roundtree. You taught me that Deeks, you just need to remember." Squeezing Deeks' shoulders, Kensi hoped he could feel the conviction behind her words, because when she had been at her lowest, Deeks had taught her the meaning of home, and she won't let him forget now. "One time you told me that you were already home, but that didn't mean NCIS as a location, it meant the team. It meant us, even if "us" didn't exist at the time in the way it does now. The feeling of home doesn't come from NCIS, but we do live it every day we're at the bar. The Squid and the Dagger means family."

Deeks nodded, but his eyes, the window to his soul, still looked troubled. Clouded not only by the tears he still kept from falling, but its familiar blue, darkened by the memories of his painful past.

Still seeing that uncertainty in Deeks' eyes, Kensi decided to throw a hail mary. "The Squid and the Dagger is not even the type of bar your dad would have frequented. I have the feeling he might have even hated it." Kensi continued to pile her arguments, still hoping the conviction and certainty in her words would help Deeks as much as the meaning behind them. "Plus, it's been a couple years already and we have never even had a fight or incident at the bar."

Deeks chuckled but before he could say anything Kensi beat him to it. "And Callen and Arkady playing pool doesn't count. The game just got a little heated." Deeks' raised eyebrows had been a total giveaway about where his mind had gone and nobody knew him better than Kensi.

"Too bad Callen and Arkady alone can't keep the bar afloat. Maybe if Hetty and Anna joined them. But who knows where they are now." Deeks shrugged sadly, tears still pricking at the corner of his eyes.

"We're coming off a bad year, baby. Stay at home orders sure did a number on the bar, but that's behind us now. Things will only get better from here." Deeks' attempt at a joke was a good sign but Kensi wasn't ready for teasing just yet. She knew Deeks always resorted to humor when talks got too personal, even when things still bothered him, and she was determined to avoid that today.

"And, you're definitely right. Brandel would have really hated The Squid and the Dagger. He wasn't really into the ocean aesthetics and our decorations surely wouldn't have been to his taste." Deeks went right over Kensi's last statement, drawing comfort from the realization her words brought him and choosing to focus on that lighthearted part of her arguments.

"Deeks," Kensi started, in a confident but soft tone, "come on, baby. You know I'm right about more than just that. You will never be like him, regardless of what happens with LAPD. You can always find a new purpose, be it with NCIS as an agent, again in the law, or something else entirely. What matters is not the job you do, but what's inside... the strength of your character, and you never have to worry about that." Kensi tried again, hoping to get Deeks to open up a little more before his perfectly constructed mask was back in its place.

Deeks nodded with a tearful smile, a single tear sliding down his face. This time, it was not for his father, but in gratitude for the woman sitting beside him. So this one time, he let it roll. Hoping it would also take with it the memories of Brandel that had just resurfaced. "Thanks, Kens. And that's only one reason why I love you. Your trust in me means more than I could say."

"And don't ever forget it," Kensi said proudly, pulling Deeks towards her and giving him another hug. Because sometimes that's all a man needed. "And for whatever it's worth, our bar will never be a symbol of your father or the awful things he did to you and Roberta. Things are tough this year, but the Squid will resurface." Kensi wished she could promise that it would, but this year had shown them that life was even more unpredictable than they thought and sometimes shit just happened. And you couldn't do anything about it, only hope that life would eventually get better and the good shoe would drop to balance it all out.

"Too bad we didn't name it The Phoenix and the Dagger, or we could have said the bar would be reborn from its metaphorical ashes." Deeks corrected with a chuckle, the familiar spark in his eyes returning as the morning light reflected off his unshed tears.

"Yeah, too bad," Kensi quipped sarcastically. "I knew I shouldn't have let you watch that Harry Potter marathon. That sounds like a name straight out of a Rowling's book."

"Oh, Harry Potter. Maybe we should add trivia night to the bar. I'm sure Brandel would have hated that too," Deeks proposed with fake enthusiasm, but a very real new purpose to turn his bar into everything Brandel wasn't. "Maybe Callen and Arkady would like it too… that way we can avoid any more pool incidents," he added with a slight grimace.

"I'm sure Callen and Arkady would manage to turn even trivia into a bar brawl. Maybe we just need to find Anna so she can keep her boys in line," Kensi shot back, deciding progress enough had been made and now she could lighten up and banter with Deeks. At least she now knew what was up in Deeks' mind so she could keep an eye on him and any more signs of his old demons making a return.

"Anna would probably join them and cause even greater havoc," Deeks said matter-of-factly. He then pulled Kensi towards him and kissed her passionately.

"What was that for?" Kensi asked, when they parted for breath.

"To say thank you, for everything," Deeks breathed out, pulling Kensi all the way towards him and deepening the kiss.

"Whoa there cowboy. Slow your roll. Time to get dressed and go for that Christmas tree," Kensi cut in, when his movements had become more intense and exploratory.

"We already waited a week, I'm sure we can wait one more day," Deeks said with a shrug, his hands already beginning to lift the hem of Kensi's shirt.

Looking directly at Deeks, Kensi could still see the glistening of tears in his eyes. But instead, she decided to focus on the hunger and love reflected in there too. Every word she had said was something she now believed to her core, and even if it had taken her a long time to realize it, she now knew that NCIS, or the LAPD for that matter, were not, and had never been, their home. They had only been a pathway to each other. And they were together now, so where they worked didn't really matter. Whatever happened, they would be okay.

So, letting her resolve crumble, Kensi took Deeks' hand and let herself be pulled towards their bed, lips crashing, and only parting for a moment so Kensi could move her hands to either side of Deeks' face to softly wipe any remaining tears from his eyes. With that done, Kensi gave in happily, letting her shirt be lifted as she began her own exploration of Deeks' body.

2020 had been a year to forget, but they hoped 2021 would be one to remember, starting with this very moment, and whenever that was done, with the two of them going together to buy the prettiest tree in the lot.

#NCIS Los Angeles #ncis la fanfiction #bad things happen bingo #Marty Deeks #kensi blye #densi #densi fanfic

[ragingbakusimp]

And I’m Still Hurting - Bakugou x Reader

Angst to fluff ⛅️

TW ⚠️ Mentions of PTSD from abuse

16+ (Mentions of adult content and language)

Ripples of sunlight spill through the shutters, warming the exposed flesh of your legs. The bed covers shift like the lazy laps of waves against sand as the body next to yours rises from the cotton bedding. Long lashes cascade a shadow across your cheeks as they flutter open, welcoming the fresh light of morn.

Stood, staring out the window, was the man you loved. Your soulmate. His silhouette stood tall and muscular, hands firmly gripping the window sill as he most likely glared at the streets below. Sitting up in bed, your skin almost glistened in the glittering beams of the sun. Noticing the sound of movement, Katsuki turns toward you, his face serene.

His form moves towards you, placing himself on the edge of the bed. Heated lips are pressed against your temple as you cling to the duvets, holding them up to cover your exposed bust. 

“Good morning.”

His gravelly voice sends shivers down your spine as you smile sleepily.

“Mornin’.”

Scars and bruises cover his torso and arms, signs of his victories, as everyone knows, Katsuki never loses. He rises yet again, his warmth leaving with him. Pondering round the room, he finds the necessities needed before he packs his bag for work. Leaning down over you, he grazes his lips against your ear.

“I love you, Teddybear.”

And with that, he picks up his things and leaves the bedroom you share, giving you time to get ready yourself. He treasures the purity of you. In the nights, long gone is your innocent tone and angelic aura as you scream his name and beg him for more, nails creating long scratches down his back as you cling onto him for dear life. He treasures the marks you leave on each others skin. He treasures the way you throw your head back as you both climb the mountain. He treasures the moment his lips meet your jugular, your racing pulse against his mouth. 

Yet he also treasures the sleepy mornings. The return of the innocence. The way you stare up at him like he carries your entire world on his shoulders. These sentiments drag him through each day, no matter how easy or tough. He knows he's coming home to your care, your love, your heart. 

Today would test him though.

The walk to work was quiet. Katsuki could tell something clouded your mind as your eyes stayed trained on the footpath in front of you. Shining windows reflected the early morning sun as the agency came into view. What could have switched your mood? Katsuki wondered. You loved your job, you loved him, what was there to be sad about? Concern and anxiety bubbled up inside of Katsuki. Clocking in was also silent. The ash-blonde male watched as you got into your hero costume, your face was a blank slate.

“Oi, Dumbass, you good?”

(E/C) eyes darted up and stared directly into his own. Like a mask, a fake smile was smeared across your cheeks.

“Yeah Suki, all good here.”

Sucking on his lip, he didn't pry. Nodding firmly, he zipped his costume up and motioned for you to join him in leaving the cubicle. Grabbing your hero mask, you quickly trailed behind him. You both worked under Hawks’ agency. You checked the spreadsheet and you were both on patrol together in the sketchiest part of town. 

Katsuki scanned your face as you both made your way into your patrol area. Many poor families lived here, and the crime rate was astronomically high. Many young children played out on the streets as their mothers watched them closely, smiling to the two of you as you walk by, grateful for your watching eyes as heroes. Small dainty fingers interlaced with Katsuki’s as you clung to his hand. It was almost like he could feel your heart racing. 

“Oi, what's wrong?”

You simply shook your head as you clung to him, clouds starting to dim the gentle light of the sun, the world turning grey. A man emerged from behind a car, his gaze landing on you and Katsuki. 

“(Y/N)? Is that you?”

The fiery male felt you tense. Your quirk was mental manipulation. You could manipulate things well, mentally. Telekinesis, telepathy and mind control were all in the palm of your hand. Katsuki watched as your hand gripped around his, small pebbles beginning to float off the floor.

‘Suki, we need to leave.’

Your voice rang in his mind. Just as he pulled you in to move down another street, the man appeared in front of you both. You swallowed. The older male smiled crookedly at you as Katsuki observed.

“Can we help you?”

The older man chuckled sickeningly. 

“Still clinging to a man hoping he’ll protect you I see. Do you still hold all that stuff against me? Come on now baby, you know I did it to make you stronger.”

Katsuki furrowed his brow. 

“(Y/N) do you know this geezer?”

“I’m her father you punk.”

You seemed to mumble something under you breath as he spoke those words.

“What did you say?” 

The male spat at you as Katsuki held your hand tighter.

“No. You're not my father. You never have been. You hurt me and my brother. You deserve to sit in this shit pit and rot. You are not and never will be the reason I’m the hero I am today.”

“You little shit. After all these years that's your idea of a thank you? I BUILT YOU FROM NOTHING!”

The older male raised his hand and Katsuki's instincts kicked in as he blew him half way down the street with his palm. You buried yourself into his side as a million thoughts drilled into Katsuki’s skull. Snapping back into reality, he radioed the police. The local squad arrested the male and assured Katsuki they would be running a full report on him. All the angry male could do was watch your solemn shaking form. 

The rest of the day trailed on. You barely spoke, disappeared during your lunch break and came back with puffy eyes and red cheeks. By the time you both got home it was late. Katsuki had stopped by the station to collect the report on the man who claimed to be your father. The apartment was dark and quiet, the first thing Katsuki noticing was you slinking off to the bathroom by yourself. He held his breath until he heard the shower running. 

‘Good.’

He thought, hoping the shower would help you clear your head; hopefully meaning you'll talk to him again. Katsuki sat down on the couch after removing his shoes and began reading through the report.

Name: Malcom (L/N)

Age: 56

Height: 5′11″

Convicted of: Domestic Violence, Petty Theft, Theft, Grievous Bodily Harm and Child Abuse.

Fuck. He abused you. No wonder you shut down completely after seeing him. Katsuki felt slightly less guilty about blasting that fucker down the street now. As Katsuki read the rest of the report, you stood in the shower rinsing away the dirt from today. Katsuki had showered at the agency but you just couldn't. You wanted to wait till you came home and felt safe. You scrubbed your face and rinsed the soap out of your hair before stepping out of the shower and drying yourself off. You plugged in the hair dryer and began to blow dry your hair. Staring into the mirror, you frowned at the girl that was reflected in the glass. She looked weak and tired, not strong like a hero. Brushing your hair and teeth, you finished up in the bathroom and left the steamy room. You quietly pottered around the kitchen, making some peppermint tea before heading to your bedroom.

Katsuki watched you disappeared into the bedroom and he decided it best to sleep too. Following behind, he opened the bedroom door to see you curled up under the covers. Changing out of his clothes and into just boxers, the ash blonde male joined you under the sheets. 

“He’s going to prison, you know.”

No response.

“I know what he did to you.”

Silence again.

“He won't hurt you ever again.”

Katsuki shuffled up behind, hugging you as he buried his nose into your hair. That was when he felt the shaking of your body and head the soft sobs that fell from your lips. Rolling you over, he pulled you tightly against his chest. Your shaky hands gripped to his shoulders as you hugged him close. 

“I-I’m weak Katsuki. Heroes should be strong.”

The ill-tempered male pulled you away from his chest and looked you dead in the eyes.

“No fucking way. No. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You stood and faced your trauma today. It takes a lot of fucking strength to do that. You are so strong and so grounded. That man didn't take anything away from you and he didn't break you either. He will rot in prison and you can make your life whatever you want. I will be here for you every single step of the way. I fucking love you cause you're dumb-ass but also a bad-ass.”

By the end of his speech you were giggling into his shoulder. Calloused fingers gently held your face as he wiped your tears. His crimson eyes warmed your heart as they stared at you lovingly. This was your soulmate. And you treasured the days and the nights, no matter how easy or tough. 

*SOBS* - Ragingbakusimp

#bakugo #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #x reader #bakugou x y/n

[mandohasmyheart]

The Beskar Guard // 1.

Masterlist  AO3

Chapter One - The Landing

The Razor Crest rocked and swayed as the Mandalorian within swore at himself for braving taking on those Imperial ships without back up. Not that he would have been able to get some in time, but still, he could have alerted the locals in the surrounding areas of what laid ahead. Whatever they had hit in the back of his ship had cut off his radio, not allowing him to send out the proper beacons or alert the local landing bay that he was coming in hot.

At this point, he was simply hoping for anything other than a hostile welcoming.

With a silent prayer, he was able to land the large ship in one piece without losing too much of the engine to his left. And from the looks of his surroundings, he could make out that there were various life forms moving about the bay, but none seemed all too concerned with his arrival. Taking a moment to collect himself, he reached for his valuables while making sure he had all the appropriate weapons on hand should he need them. He was often a target on his own, despite what he was currently chasing down.

Making sure the tracking fob was tucked away, he opened the back platform and made his way out into the unknown that was Savareen. He was greeted with nothing but sand and the chittering of something to his right. When he turned, he noticed there was a line of formal looking cloaks stepped forward, almost as if they were coming from the shadows. Instinct took over and Din reached for his pistol about ready to draw it forward when a soft, level voice came through the quieting chaos around him.

“There is no need for violence,” the shadow spoke, stepping forward even more while the others stayed back. “We know why you are here and we can help.”

—-

“Ha, I win again Zoros,” you smirked at the blue alien across from you while happily leaning forward and pulling all the credits forward. “At this point, you might want to just start tossing these things my way before the game even starts.”

The alien threw down his hand of cards before standing and muttering something in his foreign language. Despite your father always harassing you about the importance of learning the languages of the galaxy, you never really felt the need. Especially if all you needed to know what how to tell someone how much you were kicking their ass at cards, the money spoke for itself.

Busying yourself with counting, you waited for your next victim to make its way.

“Y/N.”

That familiar icy tone had you frozen in your spot, the cool credit warming in your palm as you stared ahead, not daring to turn around to the look of displeasure that would have graced his face, just as it always did when he found you anywhere but the palace. “Rafan,” you said slowly, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the slick credit still in your hand.

“Your father is requesting your presence.”

Of course he was, there was only ever a reason that Father’s right hand man came looking for you in the middle of the night. “Tell him he can wait until the morning.”

All the hustle and bustle of the underground card game seemed to fall silent as you felt the firm grip of a cold metal hand on your shoulder. “I have orders to take you in with force if I need to,” his voice continued to stay calm and collected as if the two of you were just talking about the weather. “I don’t think you want me to do that in front of your new… friends.”

Stealing a look around, almost every single being that was squished in the tight quarters of the room had their eyes on the man behind you. Not that you blamed them, Rafan was the kind of man that demanded attention. He was also the reason that you knew that your cover was totally blow with this crew. There would be no card games in the future for you here.

With a sigh, you threw down the credits and stood, aggressively shrugging off the hand on your shoulder before turning to face the man of the hour. Despite having known the man your whole life, the scars that riddle the stern look on his face always caught you off guard. His dark skin drew out the blueness in his eyes, the way they reflected the sky on a warm day while the scars along his right cheek and across his left eye gave way to the fact that he had seen some things. Even more when you caught a glimpse of his mechanical hand under his long robes.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” you said with a sigh, shoving past the man and out into the cool night.

Rafan managed to stay quiet while he trailed behind you. The walk through the bazaar at this time of night was an easy one with very few citizens wanting to be caught by the things that went bump in the night, so you really didn’t need the escort back home, but knowing your father, he had probably insisted that you were not to leave his line of sight.

As the oversized palace grounds came into view, the lush green grounds standing out in the sandy bleak city, Rafan finally spoke the obvious. “This is the third time this week alone,” he said in that calm tone of his. “Your father is not pleased.”

“Is he ever with me?”

There was a humorless chuckle from him. It gave you goosebumps as it reached your ears. “When you focus on your studies and know when you should stay quiet, he is always so thrilled.”

Thankful that he could not see the large eye roll you just gave, you squeezed your mouth shut while passing through the grounds, noting that several of the guards took a glance at you and stilled briefly before shaking their heads. Something was different tonight, usually everyone was at attention and concerned about your walk of shame back to the royal chambers, but everyone seemed to be little bit more relaxed? Was that possible when your father reigned with a sense of stern control?

Entering the main hall, the air felt different. It was not the kind of thing you felt like you could explain to anyone who asked, but it swirled and tightened with every breath in your chest. It was almost growing thicker as you approached the heavy doors that led to where your father would be waiting with that bored look of disapproval at his one and only child. The one that was supposed to have spent the night studying her politics and having been tucked into her bed chambers with a guard outside the door several hours ago.

“Ready?” Your escort asked as he side stepped around you to stand before the doors.

“Ready to get it over with.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he gave you a knowing smirk like he knew something you didn’t. Once more, you stomach twisted with uncertainty at the unusual behavior surrounding you, but you held it together as the sturdy doors lurched forward with a loud groan. Sure enough, your father was wide awake, his evening robes flowing across his large seat at the head of the hall as he glanced up from the book in his hands like he was just doing some light reading.

He eyed you, his tired gray eyes glancing at your choice of common robes before looking over at Rafan. “What was it tonight?”

“Just cards,” he answered disinterestedly.  

“Thank the stars,” he said sarcastically before he turned his attention back to where you were standing waiting for whatever punishment that was going to be thrown your way. “Have anything you want to say for yourself?”

That thickness still settled in your chest, so you only were able to give him a small shrug. “I was bored and couldn’t sleep.”

Despite the look of exhaustion that plagued his face, you caught the ghost of a smirk at your answer. “Naturally.”

Now it was your turn to give a small smile at your father. One of few things the two of you shared was insomnia in varying forms. He used his to catch up on the important things that came with overseeing the planet of Savareen or reading the latest political journal while you used yours to see what was so exciting outside of the palace walls - the very walls you had been confined in for the last twenty or so years of your life.

The two of you held eye contact for no more than a few seconds before he cleared his throat and gave a nod towards Rafan, silently releasing him from his babysitting duties. It was quiet as his steps echoed out the hall and the doors closed with that familiar groan so that it was just the two of you. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you focused on how dirty your hands looked in the bright lights, something that would surely get a lecture during one of your lessons tomorrow.

“You know I don’t want you sneaking out,” his voice came out gentle, but stern. “Something could happen to you.”

“But nothing did.”

He stood from his spot, those robes hanging off him heavily as he took the steps down to meet you were you stood shifting your weight back and forth on your heels. “That doesn’t mean it won’t always be the case Little One.”

You knew he was right and that he was just simply concerned for you. Ever since what had happened to your mother, he did not waste any expenses at keeping you safe - one of the many reasons you were rarely given the privilege of getting out of the palace grounds. Sometimes it was suffocating, but having known what your father had been through you couldn’t blame him. Which is why sneaking out made it so much easier than having to have fight after fight for basic freedom.

His eyes continued to roam your face as you remained silent before him. “I think it’s time for a change,” he finally said, turning away from you and nodding towards something off to the side of the hall.

“A change?” You asked, your interest suddenly peaked at your father doing something different. He was a man of habit and old ways, ones that were considered very out of date, so the mere suggest of something new excited you more than it should.

“Yes,” he nodded once more, “a much needed one I think.”

Just as you opened your mouth to inquire more, a shadow moved forward from the spot your father had been facing. A large man stepped into the light, his armor reflecting the glare was almost blinding as he moved to stand beside your father. He was much broader than your frail old man, he towered over him with the thick layers of protection. The way he carried himself, his silence and overall demeanor was all you needed to see to know just what this man was.

“A Mandalorian?” You asked in a quiet gasp, your mind running through all the varying information you had learned of them over the years. “What’s he doing here?”

His covered face tilted to the side as he looked you over, despite not being able to see what was underneath, you could feel the way his eyes raked over your frame in silence. Taking a step forward, your father answered clearly, “He’s here for you.”

Your stomach dropped. If you remembered correctly, Mandalorian’s were known bounty hunters and damned good ones at that. “Me?”

The look of terror must have been clear on your face as he gave a low chuckle and a soft smile. “No, my dear child, he is here for you as your new guard.”

“Excuse me?”

Now the man of silence stepped forward, his throat clearing before he spoke. “I’m having some ship trouble,” his voice came through the modulator and moved deep into the pit of your stomach. “I might be stuck here for awhile and while inquiring for some work, I was made aware I was needed here.”

“As my babysitter?” You asked halfway towards the Mandalorian and your father. “I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

A knowing smirk crossed over your father’s lips once more. “Oh Maker,” he said like you were still a youngling running around with a dagger, an accident waiting to happen. “You need to be kept safe.”

Something in his tone was both soft and fierce, it was the kind of thing that you knew you couldn’t argue with, despite ever fiber of your being screaming at you to do so. Squeezing your eyes shut and taking a deep breath to make sure you could sort your thoughts clearly, you thought about how the armored man said he was having ship problems, most likely meaning that he would be sticking around just long enough to get it fixed and being on his way again.

You could do that. A couple weeks tops with the bounty hunter.

“Okay,” you finally said, letting yourself relax enough to shoot the strange man a smile. “Welcome to the shit show.”

—

#the beskar guard #tbg #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x y/n #mando x #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #mandalorian x reader #Mandalorian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x y/n #din x reader #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren x you #Din x you #reader insert #star wars #baby yoda #grugo

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

#ws:intro #frankly my characters end up a lil different from intended 90% of the time soooo take my description of his personality w a grain of salt #this intro is long and illiterate but i'll fix it at a later time

[creepyalienghost]

Doctors assistant 2

“scalpel 12B.” the doctor called for, holding out his blood covered hand. Sammy quickly scan the tools next to him, his hand hovering over each tool looking for the right one before grabbing the scalpel and handing it to the doctor.

Sammy watches closely as the doctor precisely cuts an incision down the subjects lungs, the doctors hands digging there way into the organ to find the source of the problem at hand. Old blood oozes out of the body and onto the stain floor underneath. While Sammy waits for further instructions he watches the doctors face fixed in concentration and thought. He remembered the first time seeing this face a year ago. He remembered being afraid.

So much as changed since he left his home town a year ago. One being all the new subjects the doctor wants him to learn about. Like chemistry, biology and medical practices. Right now he was in the middle of learning about how to perform surgery from an old text book he found at the local library. He had learn the names and purposes of the tools they’d be working with and had recently graduated at giving a hand to the doctor. The most important thing the doctor has taught him was the reason for this research and about the horrible pestilence disease as well as how to sense it in somebody. He also learned a bit of French from being around the doctor.

The doctor himself was the best thing to Sammy. A blessing. He treated him better then his own parents would and accepted him for who he is. Sammy had began looking up to the doctor as a father he needed. The doctor would made sure he would eat and have plenty of rest at night as he’s learning these subjects. as well as let him have time to enjoy things like his music. When they were traveling from town to town the doctor would find some place warm and safe for Sammy to sleep at and would bring him food for when he wakes.

Sadly their attempts at curing the pestilence had failed every single time they tried. The first subject they experimented together on, they examined the heart. There theory at the time was maybe the pestilence attacked the heart and emotions. But it was a failure. With the second subject they looked into the brain. The Theory for this was the pestilence could be after thought but like the other subjects it was a failure. The failures joined the hordes of the living dead who had been terrorizing his own town. The doctor had explained that that was where they’d all come from-each another failure of cure.

Sadly this patient was no different. The doctor stopped, lowering his head with a sigh “Another failed attempt.”

Sammy could hear the disappointment in the doctors voice and frowns in response. Seeing his father figure disappointed made him even more sad. He went over next to the doctor and gave him a hug for the first time. We’ll find the cure one day doctor. I’m sure of it.”

The doctor looked down at the boy then returned the hug, wrapping him in his cloth coveted arms like a safety blanket. “I’m sure of it to, my child.” He looked at his failed experiment starting to move for a moment then turned back to Sammy. “Alright, my child. Let’s get you cleaned up”

After getting all that blood washed off and getting into clean clothes, the doctor let him out to roam the new town. Every since they came here Sammy meet a new friend who worked at his pa’s shop. He meet him three months ago when he was getting supplies for the doctor and needed help finding some tools there. Norman was ask by his parents to show Sammy where they were and that’s when their friendship begin. Ever since then they hung out with each other every day after Norman gets off and would go to the movies or other places that’s fun.

Just like everyday Sammy meet Norman outside the arcade center where they would play for a few hours before getting dinner. However today was different. Norman wasn’t himself today. He looked tired and run down as well as having a cough. He seem... sick. Sammy sensed the disease in him and alarms bells rang in his head. He needed to go tell the doctor. He needed him to cure his friend from the evil pestilence. Sammy took off running away from his friend to get help, not even looking back when Norman called after him. He ran straight to the doctor and told him about his sick friend, while crying with worry.

The doctor knelt down to Sammy’s height and gently whipped his tears away. “My child, here’s where you need to be strong for your dear friend if you want to save him” the doctor told him as Sammy pays full attention to the doctor. “We will save him my child, I promise you that.”

-

That night Norman was in his room reading a good Mystery book he had bought the week before with his friend Sammy. Or he thought he was his friend? Him just running off made him concern and confused. Why did he run off and where did he go. He had chased him into the woods and lost him In minutes. He looked around for half an hour and just gave up and went home when he couldn’t find him. Maybe he was germaphobe and ran away since he was coming down with a cold. Ether way he hoped Sammy was ok.

He’s thoughts were distracted when there was a tap on his window. He looked up

From his book and saw his friend Sammy waving at him. He happily stood up and went over to the window, opening it. “Sammy. Where did you go?!”

Sammy frowned at him. “I’m sorry Norman but you have the pestilence!”

Norman was confused by what his friend was talking about. What was the pestilence? “The what? Sam what are you t-“ Norman never saw it coming. He never what had knocked him out and never saw the doctor on the other side of the window. Sammy liked it that way. Fast and quick. He knew if Norman had seen the doctor he would struggle like the others had. Together him and the doctor grabbed Norman by the arms and dragged him out of the window, heading for the woods.

—-

Norman woke up when Sammy and the doctor were strapping his hands and feet up. He quickly began to panic and scream for help. “Sam! What is this. What are you doing?!” He asked. “Help me someone!”

Sammy stopped his work for a moment and gently placed his hand on Norman’s cheek. “Shhhh. My dear friend. You are sick. You have the pestilence. The doctor is going to cure you soon though so don’t panic. Just relax.” With that Sammy jammed the IV into Norman’s arm, The IV taking only 15 minutes to put him to sleep and his screams finally dying down.

The doctor spent hours trying to save this poor soul while Sammy stood by watching and hoping this one is the successful one. He didn’t want to lose his best friend to the disease. The doctor tried his hardest for his son to save him but in the end it was yet another failed experiment.

Sammy knew the doctor tried to save him. He knew that. But he was devastated losing his friend to the pestilence that he ran off out into the woods. The doctor didn’t try to stop him ether. He knew Sammy needed the space and time alone. The doctor was Disappointed in himself for not being able to save his sons friend and failing them both but he soon found out he had no time for sadness as he herd trucks pulling up to the building! The doctor went over to the dirty window and saw the familiar logo on one. The foundation has found him again.

——-

Sammy took a few hours walking into the woods alone to clear his mind and was ready to go back. When he returned to their part of the woods he felt something off. Like the Energy has changed. He quickly made his way back to the old school house and stopped a few feet away when he noticed it. There was fresh tire tracks everywhere around here along with footprints. A bad feeling crawled up his spin from this and he ran inside yelling for the doctor. “Doctor are you here?! Are you ok?! Doc-“

He stopped again when he got inside the place. There research papers were scattered all over the floor, their lab equipment was destroyed, bullet hole were though the walls, all their failed experiment had been shoot and there was no sign of the doctor anywhere.

Sammy ran to each room calling for the doctor and even went out into the woods looking for him but it was clear he had been taken. Sammy fell against a tree crying out. The doctor been taken away to some awful place with other things and he was all alone with no one to look after him. He was only just a child and to young to take care of himself. What was he going to do now?

#sammy lawrence #norman polk #the plague doctor #scp 049

[wandercrss]

‹ kathryn newton. cis woman. she/her. muse 1q. › cassandra ‘cass’ mitchell is back in rochdale for the summer. they’re currently twenty two years old and are known as the lot soul of the rioters, especially after they were constantly skipping classes and smoking during school hours. they graduated in 2017 and since then they’ve been nomadically moving from place to place working odd jobs. they decided to come back for the summer because she’s alone and secretly feels like the rioters are the only family she’s ever had. let’s hope they have the summer of their dreams! ( jess. she/her. 24. est. )

trigger warnings: death, abandonment, drug mention

full character page here

G E N E R A L

FULL NAME: cassandra elaine mitchell

NICKNAME(S): cass

TROPE: the lost soul

B A S I C S

AGE: twenty-two (22) 

BIRTHDAY: november 1, 1998

NATIONALITY: american

ETHNICITY: caucasian

GENDER: cis-woman

PRONOUNS: she/her/hers

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: panromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: pansexual

POLITICAL AFFILIATION: liberal 

RELIGION: atheist 

OCCUPATION: moves from job to job / currently looking for something new

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

PARENTS: kristen mitchell (mother - estranged), biological father (unknown)

SIBLINGS: penelope mitchell (older half-sister - deceased)

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): none.

CHILDREN: none.

CLOSEST FRIENDS: tbd.

RIVALS: tbd.

ENEMIES: tbd.

P H Y S I C A L   T R A I T S

FACECLAIM: kathryn newton

EYE COLOR: blue

HAIR COLOR: blonde

HEIGHT: 5′5

BODY BUILD: slim

NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: eyes

AESTHETIC/STYLE: casual (punk undertones...yes, i’m making that up)

P E R S O N A L I T Y

POSITIVE TRAITS: brave, determined, adventurous, loyal

NEGATIVE TRAITS: resentful, secretive, deceptive, isolating

TYPICAL MOOD/EXPRESSION:  neutral

ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful evil

ENNEAGRAM: type eight - the challenger

MBTI: entj

HOGWARTS HOUSE: slytherin

M I S C E L L A N E O U S

SKILLS: getting out of trouble, making something you’d least expect an adventure, thought-out pranks, ‘hangover cures’ 

HOBBIES: sketching/photography, pulling a prank on friends, smoking/drinking, more to come

FEARS/PHOBIAS: being left completely alone, losing those she loves

FAVORITES: iced coffee, burritos, thunderstorms, sunrises over sunsets

B I O G R A P H Y

cassandra elaine mitchell, mostly known as cass, was the second child born to kristen mitchell on november 1, 1998. cass’s upbringing was known to be rocky, at best. kristen was a single mother to cass and her older half-sister, penelope. cass and penelope were almost seven years apart in age, but that couldn’t get in the way of their bond. 

from a young age, penelope felt very protective over cass. part of that was out of necessity. see, kristen wasn’t exactly committed to the whole mother-gig. penelope and cass weren’t apart of her plan, just byproducts of drunken one-night-stands. kristen often had trouble holding down a job and seemed more invested in finding herself a relationship to dive into. when it came to being a mother, though, she often didn’t even try. she relied on penelope a lot as the girl got older, even leaving the young child in charge for days at a time as kristen went off on another bender or to another party. penelope tried to shield cass from a lot of it, but that wasn’t an easy job. 

when penelope turned 19, kristen was even more of a mess than usual. she had lost her job completely, their home was about to be repossessed, and the woman just couldn’t handle it all. so, she disappeared. packed up and left, leaving cass under penelope’s care. 

it was less than ideal for a 19-year-old to now be on her own taking care of a 12-year-old child, but penelope and cass were closer than anything. they knew they could make it work. now that it was just the two of them, they didn’t have to worry about their mother coming in and screwing things up. penelope began working two jobs in town so she and cass could rent a tiny one bedroom. it was tough, but it brought penelope and cass together. 

with penelope at work so often, cass was suddenly on her own more and more. it was lonely and isolating, so she decided she would find adventure for herself. cass was always an explorer. a wanderer, as penelope would often call her. she liked to dive into unknown territory, discover new things, and jump off high places just to see how it would feel. it drove penelope crazy, but it made cass feel alive. 

cass always prioritized herself over school. it wasn’t that she wasn’t smart. it was that she hated the idea of being cooped up in a classroom for eight hours every day. she became known for her skill in cutting classes. 

when cass was in high school, she started to make more and more friends. eventually, she found herself apart of the group known as the rioters. other than penelope, cass had never really had a family. and slowly but surely, the rioters really became to feel like one. she was their very own sarcastic, jaded, adventurous lost soul. some of her best memories ever were with the rioters. 

as high school came to a close, cass had to decide what was next. most of her friends were off to exciting things, but cass didn’t have a plan. neither did penelope. but the older girl was exhausted all of the time, having spent half of her 20s just working to put a roof over their heads. so, the two decided to leave rochdale behind and actually see what else the world had to offer. after graduation, they jumped in their car and were off. 

they spent many years travelling...setting up shop in small towns where they could earn some money, spending nights eating one-dollar cheeseburgers and sleeping in their car. it was far from glamorous. but it was exciting. all they needed was each other. cass would take photos, documenting their journey. they would pick up jobs in retail during the holiday season or waitress at a local diner for a few months until they decided to move on.  they lived their lives month-to-month. week-to-week. minute-to-minute. 

eventually, penelope felt like they should think about settling down somewhere. as much as she enjoyed the adventure with her sister, she craved stability. cass didn’t agree. this was the life she liked. nomadic. impermanent. nowhere they could hang around too long and risk getting hurt. they fought about it. weeks went by, and the two still couldn’t agree. hurtful things were said, accusations were made. cass and penelope had finally found the thing between them they just couldn’t settle. 

one night, cass stormed out of their motel, having had enough of her sister. little did she know, penelope went after her. she drove around all night looking for her sister, but it was no use. penelope was starting to feel tired behind the wheel. she decided to go back to the motel, thinking perhaps cass had returned. on her way back, penelope was drifting, trying like hell to stay awake. she didn’t even realize when she had run the stop sign. then...crash. 

the police were already at the motel when cass decided to head back. she found them there, lights flashing, waiting. they told her about penelope and the crash. they told her about how her sister, her person, died instantly from the impact. and that day, something inside cass broke. 

as soon as she could, cass packed up her stuff and left. she was full of anger and resentment. she hated the world, but mostly, she hated herself. cass continued to travel around, now on her own. she spent a lot of time in colorado, working on a horse farm. but she couldn’t let anyone get close to her. she was incredibly lonely. after almost a year of life without penelope, cass felt herself drawn back to rochdale. for how long? she didn’t know. maybe just the summer seeing old friends would do her some good. but she was afraid to admit the truth. she needed them. the rioters. the only family she had left.

C U R R E N T L Y

cass has just come back to rochdale for the summer. she is looking forward to seeing her old friends again, but she is more than scared to admit how much she feels like she needs them. she intends to play it cool...exercising her usual bit of not letting people in. at least, not enough to see the pieces of her she keeps hidden away. 

having been on the road for a long time, cass isn’t used to staying put, so she might start to feel a little restless. despite her loss, she still craves adventure and maybe even a bit of recklessness.

C O N N E C T I O N S / P L O T S

partner in crime: i would love for there to be someone who was cass’s ride or die, her partner in crime while they were in the rioters. 

on-again-off-again: cass is bad relationships, but there could have been someone she was in that classic on-again-off-again relationship with. she probably cares about them a lot, but just couldn’t let her go there. 

unrequited love: come on, she would also be the type to have head a friend that was like in love with her or something, but she never knew or never wanted to admit that she knew. 

frenemies: someone she bumped heads with a lot. maybe they got in each other’s way or just couldn’t stand each other. 

exes (flings, hook-ups, brief relationships etc): anything like this i’m totally game for.

hateship: am i a sucker for a hateship/enemies-to-lovers trope? perHAPS

anything at all: i am truly open for anything. please don’t be afraid to ask if you think she fits something you want for your character too. i can be bad at asking for plots so please don’t hesitate to hit me up!! :) 

#backhomeintro #death tw #drugs tw #abandonment tw #cass mitchell — ( intro. ) #open for plots come at me !! #also i proofread 0% of this thank u