#mister silver fox

[aidansplaguewind]

Profile shots | Mister John [2013]

#aidan gillen #mister john #profile #these are from my drafts #silver fox #salt & pepper #my gifs #mine

[causticsunshine]

one of my work friends came through at the last minute and now i will no longer be attending louis by myself next tuesday thank gawd 😭

#also going to use her bf — who is coming with us for safety — and his height to my advantage #aka: have him body me to the front of the line so i can see mister tomlinson after the show #bc i normally don’t do that kind of thing or honestly really like seeing it but. i’m having a bad time rn #and i want to see that silver fox up close THANK YEW #this is also a friend who knows about hilb / hilbnation and is fully down with it so i will also have that working for me 😌 #alex talks

[phoenixyfriend]

Modern AU. We look at a relationship that has two very common elements:

Greying older man (seemingly late forties), attractive younger woman (mid-thirties, so not that big of a difference)

Wildly successful celebrity, seemingly trophy spouse

Except, of course, the version going on here is that the attractive younger woman is the wildly successful celebrity (she's an athlete initially, but her fame and money came from a transition into modeling, where her musculature and vitiligo were key elements to her popularity), and the seemingly normal trophy spouse is silver fox Rex who... well, he's an honorably discharged veteran who had a non-commissioned rank, but that's about it. He's also less than a decade older than her, but he aged a bit fast (military stress) and definitely looks like a silver fox instead of just Some Dude.

Every time someone refers to him as "Mister Fett," Ahsoka corrects them with Captain.

Basically they are tabloid fodder and in-universe tumblr is having constant hissing cat fights about who's taking advantage of whom, but they're just like. A chill married couple.

In this case, I imagine they technically met when she was a teenager, and he was just one of Anakin's friends, but then he left for the army, and she started her own career, and they didn't actually start dating until Ahsoka was in her mid/late-twenties (they ran into each other again at the twin's birthday party).

I want to push for a sliiiightly bigger age difference than I usually go for, since this is inspired by Rebels instead of TCW (I generally place Rex as either halfway between Anakin and Ahsoka, or on par with Anakin), and Rebels has them as... I think thirty-three and physically fifty-eight, respectively?

I don't want to go for a full on twenty-five year age difference based on Rebels, because that hits an entirely different set of narrative complications, but I think a solid nine year gap or so is fine. Rex being three years older than Anakin is probably reasonable.

(TBH I don't even mind having it be a slightly bigger age difference, but "he looks older than he is" has more potential for shenanigans. M. If one party was a legal adult before the other was born, it's a hard sell.)

#rexsoka #star wars #captain rex #ahsoka tano #the clone wars #sw rebels #modern au #phoenix posts #tbh my openness for fictional age gaps usually maxes out around twenty #If one party was a legal adult before the other was born it's a hard sell #not impossible... but not likely

[lorei-writes]

Miss Fortune

Mitsuhide x MC Mafia AU Bodyguard AU Action; Fluff-adjacent; Fake Relationship Word count estimate: 1.7k

Oh my, did this get out of hand a couple times. Written for Different Universe, Same Love 2 CCC by @xxsycamore & @queengiuliettafirstlady <3

Content Warnings: gun mention, blood mention

“It is instrumental to act in accordance with your predicament, Ma’am.” The heels of Mitsuhide’s dress shoes hit the golden yellow tiles, each individual tap climbing up the cobalt walls of the narrow corridor located somewhere deep within the entrails of the auction house. His footfall split into more of its kind, the thus created echo mingling with a much similar, although fainter, sound. There was nothing in that space but him and the woman whose hand he clasped, the cascade of scarlet silk running down the length of her legs… and perhaps the curious camera lenses lurking up above. Never once slowing down, Mitsuhide met the artificial eyes with his own. “And now your predicament demands,” he continued, “you do not leave my side, Miss Fortune.”

Auctions were hardly an unusual occurrence in the world of wealth, much less in its darkest corners. Between vintage cars, works of fine art, chemical-induced sense of joy and exuberant (although fake) smiles, the list of items made obtainable with ostentatious amounts of money was beyond expansive – and even longer did it grow with but a handful of good luck. The very thing Miss Mai Mizusaki, the charm of the Oda clan, specialised in… Despite any objections to the fact she might or might not have had. She was, the one and only, Miss Fortune.

***

“It is instrumental to act in accordance with your predicament, Ma’am.”

The heels of Mitsuhide’s dress shoes hit the golden yellow tiles, each individual tap climbing up the cobalt walls of the narrow corridor located somewhere deep within the entrails of the auction house. His footfall split into more of its kind, the thus created echo mingling with a much similar, although fainter, sound. There was nothing in that space but him and the woman whose hand he clasped, the cascade of scarlet silk running down the length of her legs… and perhaps the curious camera lenses lurking up above. Never once slowing down, Mitsuhide met the artificial eyes with his own.

“And now your predicament demands,” he continued, “you do not leave my side, Miss Fortune.”

Mai nodded without a hint of delay and pressed a hand to her chest, her fingers tracing an outline of a miniscule box through the fabric of her gown. She let herself be led, her gaze trained on the man who played the role of her bodyguard – if she was to trust her luck, of course. For all she knew, the freelancing Silver Fox of the underground had quite a reputation to speak of… Not that she had got the taste of that. Yet.

Breath caught in Mai’s throat as her world spun, upheld on the very edge of the heel of her stiletto. Her eyes opened wide, the entirety of her vision being taken over by a certain thin smile. Her back pressed against the wall. Close. Much too close.

“Pray tell,” Mitsuhide whispered, his body leaning into hers, “what have you just done?”

“I don’t think I understand, Mister E,” she replied, hands firmly set on the lapels of his suit jacket… But he made nothing of it, his breath sowing goosebumps over the nape of her neck. Mitsuhide laughed a quiet, mirthless laugh.

“We happen to already be plenty suspicious as we are, Miss Fortune. Please, refrain from giving our dear auctioneers any reasons to send hounds after us. It would be most troublesome, I assure you.”

“Are you not doing just that?”

“I? No, not at all. After all, I am your lover, aren’t I?”

Mai swallowed thickly, strands of soft silver nearly tickling her cheek as he straightened his back. As if nothing had happened, Mitsuhide readjusted his tie.

“Now, shall we? We cannot exactly afford to loiter around.”

He offered her his hand.

And like a fool, she took it without a second thought.

They walked down the nearly endless corridor, slower now, the sounds of fervent bidding coming from both their left and right. Mitsuhide’s expression hardened, although to untrained eye, it would appear he remained rather relaxed, calm. He listened in closely to each distorted word that made it out of the auction halls, perhaps examining it, comparing it against the database of various voices stored in his mind – whichever the case, his eyes lit up suddenly. He pulled Mai forward, his arm hooking around her waist.

“Miss Fortune?”

“Yes?” she suppressed a stutter, hid it behind a poorly constructed smile. Mitsuhide shook his head. Truly, she should have refrained from emulating his craft, yet…

“Remember, you are my Miss E. For now, at the very least.”

Her lips parted, however, any words of protest Mai held at the moment withered just as soon as they had sprouted. The hall behind them opened. Clearly, his ears had picked up on things she couldn’t possibly have. For now, ‘at the very least’? she repeated in her mind, gazes of two – judging by their voices – young men drilling into the back of her head. No time to dwell on that… Do your thing, luck.

“Excuse me,” one of the men called.

Average, Mitsuhide surmised. “Is there any issue?” he replied.

“The woman with you. Who’s that?”

“Why, Miss E.”

“Missy? Missy who?”

“Miss. Miss E,” Mai corrected, with a pout. “Why do you even ask?”

“You’ll have to come with us. We’ll let you go once we find Miss Fortune.”

Mitsuhide stepped in front of Mai, a perfectly hair-raising smile on his face.

“And what gives you the authoritative power to demand that of a guest?” he inquired, his brows drawn close in a budding frown.

“The Boss –”

“Call your Boss and inform him you’ve detained Mister E and his partner. We shall talk after that.”

The men looked at each other, eyes opened wide at the brazenness of his tone. Nevertheless, their expressions faltered under his gaze, the newly emerged air of impatience urging them to act. They nodded at each other, one of them lifting a radio, when —

Mitsuhide wasted no time. Brass around his knuckles, he delivered a quick punch to the temple of the first man. He then turned swiftly, his other arm raised in a guard. Thud. His target hit the ground, but his eyes were already on the other hound, the man putting distance between them while reaching into his jacket.

“The door!” Mitsuhide called, dropping back to pull Mai along and rush them both into the nearest auction hall.

Mai held her breath. However, the bidding did not stop. Whether it was the acoustics, the commotion or the soundproofing of the space, that much was both unclear and irrelevant then. His arm around her shoulders, Mitsuhide ushered them past aisles of cushioned seats, the door snapping open behind their backs. Mai clutched at her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs with the enthusiasm of a toddler introduced to a xylophone, each of its beat falling within the realm of somewhat-melody-adjacent cacophony. However, the box was still there. In an attempt to calm herself down, she dared look around… Mai clung to Mitsuhide, too preoccupied with the grey irises following their path to even take note of the bloodied brass knuckles he still held in his hand.

“He’s here,” she hissed, a living mountain of a person raising from his seat.

“Lucky us,” Mitsuhide chuckled, but held her firmer than before.

They rushed towards the stage, curious heads of various Misses and Misters turning towards them as they nearly ran, Mai barely managing to keep up. Mitsuhide stole a quick glance across the room.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid your shoes are becoming a safety hazard.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Discard them,” Mitsuhide offered – and Mai obliged, satisfied with her newly regained agility.

The stage was there, as was the door right behind it. His hands on her waist, Mitsuhide hoisted her up onto the boards, following right after her. The world? What world. Too dazed to take note of anything, Mai put her trust in his hands, their joint fingers her lifeline, the only thing keeping her from breaking into panic in presence of the bullet that made it just past her head. The clamouring of her heart devoured the sounds, the only thing left silence – and his arms. Her body did move, she was aware of that much. However, it was very similar to what she assumed would be being a marionette, hoisted on strings and directed by somebody else… And hopefully, for she could only hope, the play would not involve any tragic plots.

Mai blinked, the corridor speeding past them. Mitsuhide ran, all the while carrying her.

“Fox?” she spoke, his original alias rolling off her tongue quite naturally, despite her strained voice.

“Put your arms around my neck, Miss Fortune.”

She did.

By the strange twist of fate, the – otherwise, very secure and clad in steel bars – window at the end of the staff passage was being replaced. Mitsuhide glanced over his shoulder one last time, an undercover-Kyubei-induced accident slowing the Tiger of the House of Kai. His lips formed a thin smile, thunderstorm clouding the inside of Shingen’s eyes. Perhaps, perhaps some other time, when somebody else guards the mouse, he will snatch away Nobunaga’s lucky charm and use her to his advantage. Not then, however, not from under his nose.

Mai clutched onto him as if he was her dear life itself. The very next moment, they leaped off the sill, straight into the river below them. The skirt of her dress fluttered, scarlet matching the hues of the bleeding sun, the last few rays of light dying her hair red, golden shimmer rousing within Mitsuhide’s eyes. They burned, they – the Icarus, the present their collapse… The water welcomed them in its fluid embrace, just the way they were, the cold shrinking the air residing in their lungs. Despite the discomfort of it all, they were safely out of the auction house. At last.

***

Silk clinging firmly to her skin, Mai dragged herself onto the shore, arms and legs barely complying with her wishes. A rat from sewers would be a less sorry sight than her, however, when she patted her chest and found the box still in its place, she did not appear to mind. To the opposite, in fact – she laid down, smiling eyes set on the stars above. Mitsuhide sat to her right.

“I take your objective has been accomplished,” he more so declared than asked.

“Boss will be pleased.”

A van pulled onto the side of the road. Mitsuhide turned his head to look, however, he needn’t have bothered, a familiar voice – shout – of his partner reaching his ears in a record time.

“Mitsuhide!” Hideyoshi cried. “It took forever to find you! Did you really had to jump into the river?! And the client… The client… Oh god, I will bring you a jacket to cover up, Ma’am, you’ll catch a cold otherwise. I’m so terribly sorry for all those misfortunes.”

Oh, if only he knew that that was exactly what Mai Mizusaki called her luck.

Tag list: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)

#mitsuhide akechi #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #different universe same love ccc #different universe same love 2 ccc

[bluerskiees]

APHRODITE'S AMOR 🩰

I'm making a valentines day spl since I did nothing for Christmas and new years.

Fandom:

Tokyo Revengers

Type:

One-shot

Please reblog 💕

RAN HAITANI

Glimpses of heaven

Only one soulmate remembers their past lives with their s/o.

RINDO HAITANI

Playground illusion

You have a tattoo of a tree that changes with the seasons but when you meet your soulmate it will bloom pink in the spring instead of white.

KOKONOI HAJIME

Roses and flames

Your dreams are your soulmates memories.

MANJIRO SANO

Mister silver fox

You and your Soulmate share a 'spirit animal', that can deliver messages you write for each other or run errands that you ask it to run. You cannot follow it when it goes to your soulmate.

Reblogs are appreciated !!

Comment or send an ask to join the taglist!!

#valentine #valentines day #tokrev #bonten tokyo revengers #haitani brothers #tokrev headcanons #ran headcanons #ran haitani #haitani ran x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindo haitani #bonten x reader #bonten ran #bonten rindo #ran haitani x reader #haitani fics #mikey headcanon #mikey x y/n #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro x reader #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #mikey sano #sano manjiro #koko x y/n #tokyo revengers kokonoi #hajime kokonoi #kokonoi hajime #bonten koko #bonten koko x reader

[eggman91]

ABELARD ABELARD ABELARD

Ok first one abelard Arbogast x reader Didn’t give me any details so I’m gonna wing it

You’ve been working for Lackadaisy for a month now you gotten to know when everyone Rocky ivy miss may and .. a very imposing Slav and you got used to it but now you were finally on your second.rum running mission….(we don’t talk about The first one )

but now, after so minutes meeting with the dealers Rocky had his head split open. Ivy is currently speaking with some very depressed looking Dr lady now it was just you and a very thin priest, sipping tea

“So mister/miss ? “(Please insert name)” ok well as we told miss pepper your friend we’ll be alright “ you sigh happy rocky will be fine hopefully this won’t cause any more brain damage but you could feel a certain interest in this priest as Ivy described him giant spider

“so your priest ?” “ yes I’m. The lord servant “ but you do well his illegal deeds strange for a priset” “maybe but the Lord works in mysterious waves, and I need to pay my church bills “ ok that sound..fine “ awkward silence between the two of you as you both sip tea look at him he was older then you 50s but.. you had to admit he was very handsome in a strange Silver Fox way maybe rocky did said something about being more forward “… you have very pretty eyes”……what?”

You blush yeah maybe this is not appropriate time for this “ I.. thank you for the compliment “his eyebrow raise.l. You quickly try to change the subject “so you play the organ right in churches”….” Yes I do I believe i play it well but recently and my church is organ has been broken”

“ that a shame I would like to heard you play” you could see a small blush on his cheeks “ I..umm “ but before you could finish you see Ivy holding up rock “(insert name) we got to go. “ you help her with rocky as he mumbles something as you leave the door, you wave to the Abelard the awkwardly waves back in as you leave through the door, you hear the British voice again “ Abelard did you just get flirt on ?

Well, yeah, that’s it I apologize if it was terrible

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #reader x character #abelard arbogast #Abelard chads are eating good tonight #I guess this can be like your first meeting. Then you can fall in love and crap.

[mirersc]

Okay we have talked about Shadow's rivalry with Sonic and Knuckles, but what about; SHADOW ’N TAILS' RIVALRY you guys??? 👀👀👀

Tails: I'm done with you kicking me in every show!

Shadow: Then stop getting in my way, fox.

Tails: No, YOU stop getting in my way.

Sonic: You have him, Tails!

Cream: No, Mister Shadow will certainly beat him!

Silver: Are you guys serious?!

Rouge: Omega, hun, you'll never guess what is happening here~

Knuckles: I WANT TO FIGHT NOW AS WELL!

Amy: Chaos... Blaze, we better do something about this. They're going to-

Blaze: Let the massacre begin.

#miles tails prower #shadow the hedgehog #their own rivalry #do you see my vision?! 👀 #rouge the bat #knuckles the echidna #silver the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #cream the rabbit #amy rose #blaze the cat #let the princess go wild for once! #who would win? #shadow or tails?

[mid-nightowl]

💖 & 🧠 for the fic writer ask game please? <3

hi hello!!! thank you for the ask!!! :) <3

💖 ahhhhh, tough question! i would say my fight scenes or writing action, whatever word you use to describe that type of writing lol. i once got told my fights were pretty realistic and fun to read, and i ran with it (absolutely inflated my ego ngl), i kind of pride myself on them though it also means they have to be perfect

🧠 oh man, i have a few that are just outlines but most usually have a few drabbles or scenes associated with them that i tinker with when bored. BUT i do have a spider-cat jaydick au that is only worldbuilding notes at this point (and im not actively working on), so please enjoy my notes on that :)

(stuffing it under a keep reading thingy bc its a lot, sorry!)

Spider-Cat Jaydick AU

Working Summary: After the death/retirement of Spider-Woman Barbara Gordon, Gotham hits a dark patch. But unfortunately or fortunately, another radioactive spider bites Jaye Todd-Wayne on a school field trip to Fox Corp/Wayne Tech. Knowing Crime Alley, Jaye’s home (despite being adopted by billionaire Bruce Wayne), is in trouble without a Spider guardian, Jaye decides to take it upon herself to be the next Spider. 

It’s not without its…problems.

Barbara as Spider-Woman Main Cast

Barbara Gordon = Spider-Gwen/Spider-Woman aka Gwen Stacy (Earth-65)

Commissioner Jim Gordon = NYPD Chief George Stacy

Harvey Bullock = Captain Frank Castle

Renee Montoya = Detective Jean DeWolff

Dinah Drake Lance = Mary Jane Watson (of the Mary Janes Band)

Alysia Yeoh = Betty Brant (of the Mary Janes Band)

Kori Anders = Glory Grant (of the Mary Janes Band)

Ted Kord = Peter Parker (aka Lizard, Earth-65)

Luke Fox = Harry Osborn (close friend to Gwen & Peter, Earth-65)

Lucius Fox = Norman Osborn

Jaye Todd-Wayne as Spider-Woman II or Ghost Spider Main Cast

Jaye Todd-Wayne = Spider-Woman II or Ghost Spider (aka Miles Morales)

Talia al Ghul and Bruce Wayne = Rio and Jefferson (Davis) Morales

Damian al Ghul = Billie Morales (younger sibling to Miles)

Willis Todd = Prowler aka Aaron Davis (uncle to Miles)

Tim Drake = Ganke Lee

Stephanie Brown = Starling aka Tiana Toomes

Arthur Brown = Vulture aka Adrian Toomes

Dick Grayson = Black Cat aka Felicia Hardy

Selina Kyle = Black Fox (mentor to Felicia and Tamara)

Victor Stone = Boris Korpse

Donna Troy = Bruno Grainger

Roy Harper = Tamara Blake

Raven = Odessa Drake

Main Villains

Joker & Harley Quinn = Carnage and Venom

Cluemaster (Arthur Brown) = Vulture

Two-Face (Harvey Dent) = Green Goblin or Two-Faced Goblin

The Penguin (Oswald Cobblepot) = Kingpin

Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley) = Doc Ock

Selina Kyle = Black Fox

Bane = Rhino

Black Mask (Roman Sionis) = Mister Negative

Mr. Freeze (Victor Fries) = Electro or Scorpion

Clayface = Hydro-Man or Swarm

Scarecrow = Sandwoman (whose sand causes nightmares from Earth 2099)

Firefly = Shocker

Mad Hatter = Mysterio

Ted Kord = Lizard I (deceased)

Killer Croc = Lizard II

Deathstroke (Slade Wilson) = Kraven the Hunter

Grant Wilson = Grim Hunter (Kraven’s first son and Kraven the Hunter II)

Rose Wilson* = Ana Kravinoff (Kraven’s daughter)

Carmine Falcone/Falcone Crime Family = Hammerhead

Maroni Crime Family = Tombstone

Moxon’s Empire/Lew Moxon = Silvermane

*Originally had Rose Wilson as Deadpool but I think she would work better as Kraven's daughter

Other Cast: (could potential appear or be saved for later)

Jessica Drew (Spider-Woman) = Kate Kane

Cindy Moon (Silk) = Cassandra Cain

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) = Helena Bertinelli*

Madame Web (Cassandra Webb) = Ma Gunn

The Tinkerer (based on the game Spider Man) = Lonnie Machlin or Dana Harlowe

*Helena could either be Daredevil or Glory Brant (of the Mary Janes Band), whether you want to have her as a vigilante or just a civilian

Additional Notes:

Barbara’s main villains were Doc Ock, Vulture, Lizard, Shocker, and Mysterio. The only villains present during her tenure were: Doc Ock, Vulture, Lizard I, Mysterio, Sandwoman, Kingpin, Black Cat, Silvermane, Tombstone, Hammerhead, Electro, Swarm, Prowler, and Shocker. 

>>Barbara knew Kraven the Hunter was active and a villain via Dick, but never fought him personally. 

>>Barbara mainly fought her big three: Doc Ock, Shocker, and Lizard. She also handled a lot of mafia/gang related crimes, in conjunction with her father’s work. 

>>Barbara’s toughest battles were with Lizard I (mainly emotional) and Doc Ock.

Jaye’s main villains are Green Goblin/Two Faced Goblin, Kingpin, Mister Negative, Venom & Carnage. The villains present during her tenure are: Doc Ock, Vulture, Lizard II, Mysterio, Sandwoman, Black Cat, Kingpin, Shocker, Electro, Rhino, Venom & Carnage, Kraven the Hunter, Grim Hunter & Ana Kravinoff, Prowler, Swarm, Mister Negative, Hammerhead, Tombstone, and Silvermane. 

>>Jaye mainly fights her big four: Two-Faced Goblin, Kingpin, Mister Negative, and Venom & Carnage. Jaye also handles a lot of gang related activity but for different reasons than Barbara--whereas Barbara acted very much like a police detective, Jaye was trying to protect Crime Alley (aka Barbara worked with the police and Jaye does not). 

>>Black Cat, Doc Ock, Lizard II, and Ana Kravinoff are technically “villains” but Jaye has good working relationships with them. 

>>Jaye’s toughest battles are Venom & Carnage and Two-Faced Goblin (mainly emotional).

>>Jaye was adopted around 12-13, and grew up with Bruce and Talia (and later on, baby Damian), but also Uncle Harvey, Bruce’s best friend. Harvey, unfortunately, will be attacked and scarred by Tombstone (Maroni) and become the Two-Faced Goblin. 

>>Unclear if Jaye knows Willis is Prowler. 

>>Madame Web and Starling are newest additions to the hero community in Jaye’s time, and did not meet Barbara. Starling (Steph) knew of her because of her father and Madame knew her through her clairvoyance, but neither of them had ever met her face to face or interacted with one another.

And the lil drabble that started it all:

Out of all the leftover characters and remnants from Barbara’s time as Spidey, Black Cat is the only one she doesn’t mind.  Granted, he’s still a pain in the ass.  But, he also doesn’t try to kill her. Maim? Maybe, if she gets on his bad side. Use as a cat scratcher? More times than she can count, for no reason beyond “he was bored.”  He’s never gone for the jugular though and that she can appreciate.   And even she can admit, Barbara had good taste in men.

#ask game #ladytauria #fanfic ask game #thank you so much for the ask!!! <3 <3 #i went through like four different versions of teams and characters for this au before settling on this version #the og very first version had peter parker as barbara and mj as kori and green goblin as luke and lucius fox #there was another version where tim was harry osborn and green goblin jr; jaye was peter and barbara was spider-woman jessica drew #so many possibilities #and dont get me started on the teams #the champions were the closest to be settled with nova = kyle rayner; viv vision = miss martian; young cyclops = kon #i refuse to do the avengers team thou #that's too much work #i still think rose as deadpool would be hilariously perfect but who knows #artemis and bizzaro are going to be in this too just not quite sure as heroes or civilians yet #thank you for giving me the opportunity to ramble about this au #i put way too much thought into it for having zero scenes of actual writing lmaooo

[wildfire317s-oc-box]

My nicknames for the demon slayer / kny characters (probably gonna be edited as time goes on):

Tanjiro: checkers, fox-cub, country bumpkin #1, cannon-ball, simba, glitched eevee

Nezuko: dynamite, foxlette, bunny-rabbit, local cleric

Zenitsu: bug-zapper, sparky, thunder, lightning bolt, zen-, simp lord, timone, pikachu

Inosuke: piggu, oinker, boar-boy, country bumpkin #2, mankey, pumba

Murata: squeaker, lucky clover, mister nine lives

Genya: fluff-ball, grumpy gills junior, half 'n' half, hyena-boy, beastie

Kanao: lucky-flip

Aoi: lapis, sky blue

Sabito: sabi-, fire fox, soggy/sabi-fox, fox-boy, the ginger, local red-head, short-stack, short-king, secret weasly

Makomo: momo-chan, sky-fox, quick-silver, shorty, daisy-chain

Giyuu: shadow, shadow-fox, fox-fox, espresso-depresso

Urokodaki: fox-dad, old man river

Kyojuro: Ren-, K(i)yo, Phoenix, fire-chicken, owl boy, (my apologies in advance) donut man

Shinjuro: mega butt-lord, maltov, head-butt practice, gunpowder fuse

Senjuro: owlet, Sen-, baby-phoenix, sweet bean

Kanae: monarch, lilac, sweet one

Shinobu: lavender, butterfly, grumpy one, chihuahua

Sanemi: feral-ass, gremlin man, feral pomeranian, cottonheaded ninimuggins, cotton poof, grumpy gills senior, shouty mc-lionmane the second (the original being nishiki from tokyo ghoul), deranged dandelion, dunkass

Uzui: loud-mouth, gaston knock-off, bastard ass, obnoxious mf, tryhard ninja, man-hoe, rich prick, pickpocket-bait, spoiled jackass, captain crack-head, testiclies high dumbass of testosterone

Muichiro: Mui-, -chiro, misty, cloudy-boy, spacer, space-cadet, pedo-buster, smol-bean

Mitsuri: love-bug, melon-stripes, best-girl (of the humans), cat-girl, sweet-girl

Iguro: snek, sneky-snek, snake-boy, snake-charmer, zebra-stripes, duo-chrome, dress boy (you all know the dress i mean if you look at his entire color-palette), icyhot, sneaky simp

Gyomei: gentle giant, beastie-tree, tibetin-mastiff, the tall one, prayer beads, mister budda beads

Kaigaku: Kai-, evil-sparky, local rogue, invert-color-zenitsu, black-lightning, gender-bent azula, tiger-cub

Kokushibo/mitchikatsu: koku-, mitchi-, -shibo, sixer, moony, Kaigaku's dad, ponytail

Douma: frosty, blondie, ink-splat, great-dane, daki & gyutaro's dad, rainbow-brain, lounge-lion, kaleidoscope eyes

Akaza/Hakuji: cat-boy, tabby-stripe, raging-bisexual, pinky, -kaza

Nakime: Naki, rapunzel, mademoiselle noir, Naki-nak's

Hantengu: -tengu, murder-hobo, bird-brain, lord of bullshitery, han-, mousey

Gyokko: shape of water, fish for brains, dollar-store axolotl, house-plant, shitty-wizard, pedo-fish, off brand anish kapoor

Daki: material-girl, alt-timeline barbie (if you know you know), miss wears pink on wednesdays

Gyutaro: pretty paint-splatter boy, cutie-spots, pretty pretty gyutaro, floofy-hair, sharky, snarky-shark, gyu-, taro-taro, hyena-shark, hyena-man, mantis, floof-floof-cotton-poof, paint/ink splatter cutie

Enmu: enmu the tank engine, train-boy, emu, goat-eyes, (^w^)/OwO face, crazy-train, (in reference to his disembodied hand alone) off brand thing, HMS (his majesty's simp), the OwO translator

Ubume: n/a

Rokuro: geode, lower moon dad 2, rock-uro

Hairo: grouchy wolf, grumpy guns, dollar store cowboy

Wakuraba: elf-ears, off-brand legolas

Mukago: fuzzball, whiskers, fluffy-horns

Rui: spidy, spider-boy, ru-ru, rui-ru, web-slinger, tiny bean, smol gremlin, precious pain in the ass, adorable lil shit, squishy, squishy-cheeks, raging ball of white fluff, spidy/spider-paws

Kamanue: baby-dragon, kama-kama, kama, nue

Kyogai: tiger-stripes, tiger, kyo-, looks like a dad (not even kidding he looks very similar to my actual dad just put a goatee on him), mister its a kilt, captain funky music, big drummer-boy, lower moon dad 1

Tamayo: tama-san, tama-tama, the science queen

Yushiro: bratty-cat, simp king

Susumaru: maru, susu, maru-chan

Yahaba: triple a, mister hand-eye coordination, off brand death the kid

#kny nicknames #demon slayer nicknames

[nvrcmplt]

And of course some of the guards have reported missing keys, keys Wriothesley know very well has ended up in the hands of a certain inmate, one who finds it in to commit crimes big enough to send him to the fortress for a few days for the sake of a warm bed, work and food. Naturally the warden doesn't blame him, he understands and had he been any younger he would have applauded Einri's dedicated to the "comfort" offered the meropide. Last observed at his designated dorm, Wriothesley's boots would weight heavy against the metallic floors upon approaching the inmate.

"You don't know how to keep your fingers to yourself, do you Einri," the Duke speaks as he positioned himself behind the other, a strong arm wrapping around the other's waist. A pull was in its place, ensuring so that the inmate wouldn't find it in him to turn on the warden. One hand traced the front of Einri's abdomen, the other tracing the side of his thigh; "... where are you keeping them this time?"

This time.

It's not the first time Wriothesley finds himself like this, holding the petty criminal in such firm yet seemingly tender embrace, the way fingers allow themselves to thoroughly examine each and every curve of the man's body; he has to find those keys, of course, it'd be great tragedy were they to land in the hands of someone with cruel intentions. In his search, Wriothesley allows himself to slide a hand up under the man's shirt; it's a strange sensation, the way his stomach feels against the bare skin of his fingers (he can't recall such urges in the presence of others, if any). Back against chest, the duke's deep voice lowers further as head settles against and next to Einri's, a coy smile on his lips.

"Don't tell me you spread a rumor just to get searched," Wriothesley scoffs, "that's bordering towards fraud and scamming, which is far out of your criminal expertise... rat."

One thing to note in these damp walls and metal halls was the lack of need to hide in layers. The place wasn't the most ideal to many with criminal tendencies, but to some weasels, like himself, Einri was thriving in a place that held him in a bunk. Fed him, clothed him, kept him warm and of course - entertained him stupidly well. He needn't do much to rile the guards here, a tongue as silver and active as his own - his lies and slanders were birthed into life. A small cackle of a fox in a hunter's den and the next thing he knew - he was stood behind.

A presence that made his hairs on arms stand, the sensation of a beasts' obsession for the answer in his bones. The touch of their hands on his hips, made his own lips curve with the intention clearly understood. He wasn't a fool - this would lead to nothing but a fling, maybe a romp in a bunk or a second shower that day, but this was something he knew well into the night that would happen. A curious man. A questioning figure that held power and balance in these walls but also the etching stone upon its clear surfaces to take all the notes of a madman's query.

The thief, fingers stick like summer-warmed honey were cool and at ease for once. Poised at his sides, risen only slight to not hinder the hands that were exploring his body. A voice in his ear that made the pointed thing twitch and lift with a shudder down his spine. As his lips part with a soft exhalation, the Elf stares upon the metal flooring and turns only his eyes. "Well, where's the fun in telling you, Mister Duke?" His fingers wiggle, the movement to show that it wasn't between his fingers like a card upon a table of gambling. Nor up his sleeves as his shirt stopped at his mid-forearm, torn and tattered at the rim.

Lashes flutter upon the warmth that radiated from the figure's caressing digits, his thigh tensed, a giveaway for a pocketed item? Non. As it soon relaxed with his words that followed an inhale. Fingers of a foreign warmth under his shirt, the clothing thick but not completely thick enough to keep heat in such a dim place when he wasn't moving as much outside of work. Still like most cold days, Einri felt his chest tingle as his nipples hardened with the flow of fingers trailing up his skin more and more, the pinch of shuddering tingles raced from where he was traced with those fingertips, it really stole the thief's breath, shamelessly - as he dared not roll back into his jailer. Bloody hard to not just fall into it though.

The strength of a wall, the metal on their uniform barely mattered as the Elf felt their sturdiness on his backside and spine. The touch bringing him more warmth, but the closeness gave them more reach under his shirt. No key this time on his sternum, held by thread of his under shirt, no key hanging from a makeshift strap over his chest, no key used as a dangling nipple jewel piece. No, no, no. Not this time - a clever use though, versatile item and thought with what he had at hand. But no, not this time indeed. He held the key in question, of course, but this man would just have to feel a little harder for it, as the thief hummed before a laugh at their correct judgement.

"My, my - it's almost as if you enjoy the games just as much as I, Mister Duke. Then again, you do seem to react well with fetch quests, hm? Ah - that and the rewards after slipping your fingers into places that many would frown upon." The swift curl of his tongue tip against bared teeth as he smiled with true mirth at this endless rewind of a game. Einri didn't shy away from that figure that held him under their control, after all. Instead - he merely stepped back into their presence, feet situated well to balance their bulk against the wall of a man behind him. "Search away, petit chien~ Ah, here." Movement of his hands, raising to beckon attention to the finger as it rose over his frame and press to the male's nose. "Use it well, hm?" Head tilted, inviting more of their attention to his body.

Touch wasn't going to satisfy this new curiosity of theirs alone, was it? "You're very cold, in finding these keys of mine." Smirking now, hands return to lowering before him, shifting to dare slither them behind himself, lower at his back and smoothing palms against their stomach but little else. Miming the cuffing of wrists with holding onto the fabric of Wrio's garments to hold him at this closeness and to stare ahead upon a mirror covered in streaks of condensation and time. A smirk blossoming with glinting eyes of a man with the upper hand and glee upon their game to play on.

Since under foot, between the cracks of metal and age, was wedged the smooth metal teeth of blockades locked beyond his own sights.

#avaere #« ( Einrí ) » Answers. #» | × | Einrí&Wriothesley || Oh Bless My Heart When The Wolves Take Me Away || #u w u enjoy desu

[aidansplaguewind]

Aidan Gillen as Gerry Devine | Mister John (2013)

#aidan gillen #gerry devine #mister john #silver fox #this movie will always be one of my favorite looks #so sweaty #and scruffy #chef's kiss #my gifs #mine

[harveyb-wabbit92]

Awkward first meetings Ingo ver. {fem] Galarian reader.

{How Ingo met Y/n before she was a ticket guard, she worked the Gear station locker attendant/cleaner, it was her job to check and clean out the lockers for any forgotten items or food left behind, she wasn't alone she had her shiny Nickit "Shady" helps her out but, the little fox tends to think anything set down for more than a second is a lost item! Regardless if the owner is standing right next to said item, well, this time she has her eyes on a certain conductors hat....]

========================

"Another day, another dollar." Y/n hummed as she got her cart out from the janitors closet and made sure she had the master key-card to luggage storage, then she let Shady out of her ball little the Nickit yipped happily as it say in the carts basket. "Alright' ya know the drill lassie, no wanderin' off, no causin' a ruckus and no stealin'!" Y/n huffed waging her finger at the Pokémon, the silver fox chirped and hopped out of her cart and started sniffing the floor. "Holler if ya find somethin' now off wit ya!" Shady took off wandering the mostly empty station being careful to stay out of sight and ignore any food the other depot agents try to offer her.

When a large strong breeze from a passing train caused this round black thing to land in front of her...A hat, Shady curiously sniffed the hat before picking it up by the bill, as soon as she did this a pair of polished black shoes appeared in front of Shady, the Nickit followed the legs attached to shoes and panicked at the sight of the fearsome looking human seemly glowering down at her! A shudder went through the baby Pokémon as the man reached down for her.

Shady let out a terrified wail and took off running hat still in her mouth as she ran around blindly the human gave chase, the Nickit briefly looked behind her to see if that human was still on her, He was! Shady's eyes started tearing up as she looked back in front of her and *bam!* the Nickit ran right into pillar knocking her out cold!

{POV switch.]

Ingo gasped as he caught up to the strange Pokémon that stole his hat, he winced as watched it ram into a pillar and falling over, the conductor ran over and took his hat back, back also to check out the fox, they were out cold! Ingo carefully picked them up and took out his Rotom-phone and the Pokédex app to figure just this little one was? he snapped a pic and and it showed him the Galar index. "So you're a Nickit...a dark type..." Ingo mused wondering a Galarian Pokémon found it's way to Unova?

Then the subway boss remembered there was string of thefts lately and they all involved a shiny dark type Pokémon... Ingo frowned and went to the lost and found office and made announcement over the intercom. "Urgent! To anyone missing a silver Nickit, please report to Lost and found, silver Nickit in the lost and found." Y/n's face felt hot as she awkwardly made her way to lost and found wondering what Shady had done? when she arrive to the lost and found office, she felt butterfrees in her stomach when she saw Ingo Trevithick waiting for her in front of the lost and found petting her Nickit, who looked utterly ashamed and defeated while nibbling on a cookie.

"Uh, Mister t-Trevithick, sir? I heard your announcement..."

"You're Nickit's trainer?"

"A-aye sir, she um helps m-me clean-up."

"Ah, does cleaning up include stealing? Cos I think I missed that memo..."

Y/n mouth felt dry as stammer out. "W-what?" she noticed Ingo suspiciously eye balling the box of miscellaneous objects she found in locker room tucked under her arm. "No. no! I'm no I'm doing my job! see?" she showed him her Employee badge showing she was indeed the Locker attendant. "I was dropping this stuff off like I always do, I trained Shady to get' things I miss." She handed the box off to the L&F desk attendant who thanked Y/n by name proving she was telling the truth. "I'm still working on it, She thinks everything not bolted down or being held is a lost item." the y/ht woman said nervously fidgeting with the bill of her worn out hat.

Shady hissed suddenly and hopped out of Ingo's lap and onto Y/n's shoulders, while glaring at someone approaching, Y/n looked ill. "Get ready to meet a real thief." the y/hc woman huffed as Ingo stood up and saw a well dressed woman approaching them briskly. "Excuse me I heard the...oh, you're already here." the woman sneered in disgust, as Y/n regarded the shiny obsessed woman with a neural expression. "Of course I'm here, couldn't risk someone sneaking up and stealin' Shady from me." the Galarian woman huffed the snooty woman sniffed at her in disgust.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so stingy.." Y/n snorted in disbelief. "Stingy?! haha..ah! That's bloody rich! comin' from you!" Ingo looked between the two women bemused. "Excuse me for cutting in, what's happening here?" he inquired hoping to get some context, the snooty woman gave Ingo a once over and grimaced not fully realizing who he was. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, go play with your trains little boy..." Ingo inhaled sharply at the insult as Y/n put herself between him and Snooty. "Look, I've already told ya' I ain't sellin' Shady to ya nor anyone else, now piss in the general direction of off!" Y/n growled pointing towards the exit!

Snooty didn't piss off however instead she reached for her Pokéballs. "I don't think you understood me last time..." she spat Ingo immediately saw what was up next thing they knew there was a very sad looking shiny Gardevoir and a bright flash, Y/n winced as she felt Shady being yanked off her shoulders! when she could see again Y/n understandably freaked cos' she though her Nickit was gone! only to see the silver fox curled up between her legs shaking, the y/ht woman brows furrowed in confusion if Shady was ere' then what the hell did that woman grab?

She noticed Ingo had smirk on his face as they watched the woman run a few feet before noticing she was holding Chandelle {Chandelure} Snooty gasped before Ingo ordered the ghost type to used hypnosis... then Snooty dropped like sack of potatoes as Chandelle let out a huff As if to say "good riddance." and hovered back to her trainer, in the end the police were called Pokémon were checked over...Guess what? they (minus her shiny Purrloin.) were all stolen! So the police had their hands full tracking down their trainers.

Ingo apologized to Y/n and Shady for suspecting them of being the thieves as he walked her to the bus stopped, there has been a lot of pickpocketing incidents in the station lately, around the same time Snooty started showing up actually, turns out her accosting Y/n about purchasing Shady from her, set off a lot of alarm bells in the Galarian woman's head! That... And Snooty's checkbooks always seem to have different bank and surnames on them , Y/n was going to alert the station police about it. but well, today happened! so.. Yeah.

Y/n insisted it fine he was just looking out for his passengers, before she got on the bus Y/n decided screw it, She grabbed Ingo by the tie and pulled the conductor to her and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek while slipping her phone number into his shirt pocket before hopping on the bus. "Thanks for protectin' my lass boss, see ya around!~" she purred Ingo's face turned bright red as he watched the bus drive off with daze off look, Oh yeah, they'll definitely be seeing each other real soon!

#pokemon fanfiction #pokemon x reader #pokemon imagines #Submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss ingo x reader #fem reader #galarian! reader #nickit #gardevoir #chandelure

[leggerefiore]

Silver Fox Emmet taking special care and time to dote on/help acclimate his nephew to Unova?

guess which lucky anon got 2000 words of erin and emmet interaction.

Emmet would admit he was still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions that had come just prior to where he stood. The twin brother that he had accepted lost forever to the point that he finally moved on with his life, gotten married, and had children (one of them even being named after said brother), had reappeared with seemingly no rhyme or reason one day. Emmet had been doing a routine walk around of the station and heard crying from an unused subway tunnel alongside someone shushing. He moved forward without hesitation, motioning the young depot agent to follow him. His ears knew the sound of a child crying at that point, so he was on high alert. The light from his torch shined down the darkened area where he spotted three people on sneaking around the tracks. He nearly dropped the device upon noticing a familiar face. Tears burned his eyes as he yelled out, “Ingo!?” His twin jumped from the voice, but turned around to stare at him.

He hadn't recognised him then. His memories had been lost when he landed in Hisui, and with him were his partner and child. Emmet hugged his partner tightly, recalling that they vanished alongside his brother. The small child they had with him, his nibling, could not have been older than four. Two years younger than his girls. Emmet closed his eyes. All three of them had been brought to a hospital to check them out, and the police rushed over to interrogate them all about where they had been. Emmet just felt himself overcome with worry. Ingo didn't know him. His twin brother didn't know who he was. The person who had been at his side for so many years only to vanish one day.

They didn't even look the same any longer. Ingo's hair having grown long and his body become more muscular. Scars littered his skin. Emmet felt the tear that he thought had finally dried up pour from his eyes once more. He felt so alone despite having so much. His plans for Ingo's return having been about reincorporating his brother into his life and having a happy ending. The struggles of his life would not have been eased that simply, naturally. He sighed as he sat in the chair of the waiting room. His own partner should arrive soon with his girls.

A sniffle left him as he watched the hospital staff come and go through the lobby. Tiny patters of feet ran up to him. His head shot up, used to his girls, more specifically Inka, trying to sneak up on him. Before him was Ingo's apparent child… He felt embarrassed. Their hair was long, almost identical to Ingo's in length. He hadn't even asked about this poor kid's gender. They stared at him for a long time. Then they spoke in a language Emmet didn't know. He shook his head and apologised. The kid lit up at his confusion, surprisingly. “You speak my parents' language! I'm Erin! You look like my dad!” they announced. Suddenly, they grew bright red. Erin bowed, and Emmet felt more distressed. “Erin… Where were you and your parents at before?” he asked them before realising something else, “I'm your dad's twin brother! I'm your uncle Emmet!” Their eyes lit up at his words.

“Uncle! You're my family, too!” they leaned into his lap and stared up at him adoringly, “Daddy said he didn't remember anything before Mister Gaeric found him! We're from the Coronet Highlands and members of the Pearl Clan. Well… My other parent isn't… They're a part of Team Galaxy still.” Gaeric? Coronet Highlands? Pearl Clan? None of those words held any meaning to Emmet. “I'm sorry. I don't really know where that is! You're in Unova now. More specifically, you're in Nimbasa!” he explained as they appeared a bit disheartened by his words. Emmet gently rubbed their head. A cry suddenly came from across the lobby as his girls and spouse entered. Emma ran across the room to grab onto his leg. Her eyes were big and pleading as she gazed up at him. Erin seemed startled by her. The foolish child had now caught her attention, unfortunately. “Papa had another child!” Inka proclaimed, standing across from Erin and pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I don't accept you! You'll never be my sister.”

Erin was absolutely distraught by that. Their eyes shot wide while they shook their head. “I'm – I'm not…” they stuttered out, crumpling a bit into themself. Emma grabbed her sister into her side and stared at Erin closely. The six-year-olds clearly were silently deliberating something. Erin whispered the final half, “I'm not a girl.” Emmet felt his struggle. It reminded him of when people used to speak over Ingo when he tried to defend himself and Emmet. He stood up and picked up Erin. “Girls, this is your cousin. He's my brother's son. Meet Erin,” he introduced the boy, as he knew how hard it was to speak sometimes. Erin smiled at him with a small upturn on the sides of his mouth. Emmet had only had Erin for around ten minutes, but he decided that if anything happened to him, he would kill whoever was responsible. Between helping Ingo and his partner readjust and parenthood alongside his Subway Boss work, Emmet would say he rivalled the workaholic Ingo used to be. His older twin was steadily recovering his memories, but still had much to recall. His partner was doing a lot better than him yet found themselves sticking closely to Ingo. Out of the three, Erin seemed the most interested in exploring his new world. He would often cling to Emmet's leg and ask him to let him see the trains again. The boy had grown absolutely fascinated with them upon seeing the model ones around his house. It got worse when he discovered they were 'real'. Now, whenever Emmet had to go to work, he had a nephew pleading for him to come along. It was worsened this time when Ingo stared at him with these determined eyes. Emmet felt quite strange holding both their hands as he guided them throughout the station. Depot Agents cheered on Emmet and Ingo alongside the new 'mini-boss' that had joined them. By the time they had reached Emmet's office, Ingo seemed to break apart from him. The older twin moved on his own, seeming to know exactly where to go and what to do. Emmet's heart raced. Erin watched his dad with intrigue. Then Ingo collapsed.

The boy screamed while Emmet threw open the door and pulled Ingo on to the couch. Erin was at his side, shaking him and crying for him. Emmet felt bad, but he was unsure of how safe that was. His nephew was picked up while he rushed to dial emergency services. A groan stopped him. Ingo rose up not even five minutes after passing out. He gazed at Emmet. “… I am unsure if I truly recall everything, but from what I do…” his fingers ran through his hair, “I'm certainly going to need a haircut, aren't I?” Emmet cried again that day. Ingo remembered him. The younger twin could only watch as Erin walked up to him with badly drawn on make up and one of Emma's old Halloween costumes on. “Uncle Emmet, Emma said I'm beautiful now,” he tugged on the lace of the witch's costume, “Is this why daddy cut his hair?”

“No, that was for work…” he was unsure how to parent in the scenario, “Er… Yours is fine. It's verrrry pretty.” His eyes lit up as he played with the ends of the braid that Emma had done.

“I actually like it like this…” he admits with a flushed expression. Emmet sighs. He would admit Erin had strange mannerisms and behaviours. Some he knew were because he was like Ingo and himself, but others came from Hisui. At first, Erin had wanted his hair cut just like Ingo's own, but the minute the stylist's scissors snipped some off the end. He changed his mind and started crying. Everyone reassured him it was alright to have long hair, and that he was fine the way he was. Emmet worried that when his nephew started schooling that he would be bullied and teased. Erin was a softer child who struggled to speak with strangers. His mannerisms from Hisui left him overly polite, and he still bowed to introduce himself. The most he could get out to people that weren't his family were random facts about trains or Thomas the Tank Engine. Ingo was unwilling to see that Erin would likely struggle here. Emmet didn't want that for his nephew. He had already asked Emma and Inka to keep an eye on him as best they could while he was in school, but that wouldn't be enough. “How about we get changed and go out for ice cream?” Emmet offered, wanting to help teach his nephew some things about Unova. Erin perked up at the suggestion, having become quite the fan of it after trying some. “Now, what do you say to them?” Emmet prompted Erin as he did his girls. “Thank you!” Erin chirped, before turning to his uncle to try to obtain his ice cream. Emmet helped him sit on a bench outside and gave him the treat. Erin easily dug the small plastic spoon into it. He was cute, Emmet would concede. He had decided to work on helping him adjust by taking him out to various places around the city. The train station seemed best because his workers were nice enough to assist him in his idea.

“Uncle… I miss home,” Erin admitted to Emmet hesitantly, “I really like it here, but I want to go play with the Bidoofs near Jublife again… Daddy seems so happy here, too.” The older man stared at Erin. The spoon had come to a stop while the boy's silver eyes stared down at the pavement. Something in Emmet stung. How hard had moving here been on him? Hisui was an entirely different culture and time period, too… He felt a bit selfish. Emmet felt unable to say anything.

Erin stared up at him. His tiny hand grasped Emmet's larger one. “I'm sorry! Please don't cry!” Erin teared up, too, and moved to hug Emmet. “I don't know. I'm scared. Daddy's busy again, and I'm lonely. I like trains and my cousins, but I miss Lady Irida and Sneasler!” Emmet softly embraced the boy as he sobbed into his shirt. Had he been afraid to tell Ingo this? “I'm happy you're my uncle, too…”

“I'm glad you're my nephew, Erin,” Emmet pet his head, “It's normal to miss your home. I miss mine! Your dad and I lived in a small, quiet town before we moved to Nimbasa. I want to return when work becomes too much.”

“Why don't you?” Erin pulled away and tilted his head. Emmet smiled sadly at the boy. He still needed to tell Ingo that… It happening hadn't helped him during his handling of Ingo's disappearance.

“My parents don't live there any more,” Emmet phrases it lightly. He wasn't a young man any more. He was nearly fifty… It almost made him want to laugh. His parents hadn't been exactly the youngest when they had him, either. No one gets out of life alive in the end. Erin didn't need to be bothered with that.

“Oh…” he said sadly, “I want to go with you and daddy to your hometown…”

Emmet was certain he would. Ingo would want to visit there after he told him…

Ingo was in tears as he saw Erin off to school. The little boy looked more nervous than his father somehow. Emmet smiled at the pair as his girls watched in curiosity. They were both arguably worse on their first day of school. The younger twin kneels down to hug Inka and Emma tightly. Sweet kisses were pecked to their cheeks as he wished them a good day. They both waved bye to Emmet, while Emma shot one glance at him to make sure he was watching her. He giggled at how she was always so desperate for his praise. Once again, he waved for her. She gave a small smile at him as she disappeared into a sea of children. Erin finally started wandering off from Ingo when he returned his attention to them again. He moved to stand beside his brother. They certainly stood out among the crowd of young parents he wanted to laugh. His brother's distress prevented him from doing so. Emmet understood how stressful it was to see your children go. Their first stage of independence from you, kindergarten. He knew better than to assume it had extreme effects. Emma and Inka were picked up in tears while claiming him to have abandoned him. “He'll be worse this afternoon, I promise,” Emmet told Ingo, who finally turned to look at his brother. “I hope he keeps his braid together,” Ingo joked lightly, “I spent nearly thirty minutes on it.” Emmet was sure Erin would. The boy adored anything Ingo did for him. He tugged Ingo away from the school. They had a train to catch, having took the day off from work. Anville Town called their names.

#ingo.ima #emmet.ima

[thegoblinwitchqueen]

Fox Gloves and Lupines

Charles Smith (rdr2) x Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit

A03

Chapter: One

Nature was, and would always be, Unforgiving and cruel. And she…

She was stupid.

Frozen shards of crystalline water droplets fell heavy from dark clouds. They blinded Kitt, blurring the vision of her sore and hazy eyes until the once familiar mountain trail was nothing but a screen of overwhelming whiteness against a backdrop of uneasiness. The unpredictable climate of the West Grizzlies did not discriminate, and it did not matter how often or for how long she had traversed the untouched wilderness of the Ambarino mountainside for the entirety of her twenty-six years, the sudden change in weather could kill even the most seasoned fur trappers without hesitation if caught off guard by raging ice and wind storms. And unfortunately, it was on a gloomy spring evening when Kitt Arquette unknowingly found herself in one such dilemma.

The heavy furs she had wrapped desperately around her shivering body hardly kept the biting chill from penetrating clear to her bones with frigid gusts of wind that cut profoundly into the soft flesh of her cheeks like sharpened razors. The pungent odor of iron and decay filled Kitt’s nostrils in a way that reminded her that, miraculously, the most prominent feature of her fox-like face had remained attached to her despite her lack of feeling. Kitt touched her numb face and adjusted her knitted, thick scarf back over her cracked mouth and nose. She tried to ignore the uncomfortable steam from her trembling breath, which had soaked straight through the fleece and inadvertently caused her lips to rub themselves raw against the coarse material and freeze instantaneously. She shrank instinctively and tugged a silver fox pelt closer to her chest. Sporting the uncleaned and bloody hides of foxes, elk, and mountain sheep was not ideal; however, neither was a demise caused by the suffocating hands of an unexpected blizzard.

Her once healthy limbs were now as useless as the fresh legs of a newborn foal, gangly and awkward in ways she had never experienced before and painfully burdened by a thick and heavy layer of new snow. Kitt’s elbows creaked and groaned angrily like branches of an old oak tree while blindly guiding her old chestnut-colored gelding down a short and steep slope. Carefully, she continued her passage towards a place she had hoped would be sheltered. The old horse voiced his unwillingness and apprehension by tossing his broad head, but he continued through the bitter cold with nothing but trust in his rider to guide him to safety. Kitt worked hard to develop their trust over the last twenty years with the gelding after having acquired him as a gift from her maternal grandfather.

“I'm so sorry, boy.” Kitt cooed while she wiped away the dense ice clumped against his unruly black mane. Thick Mists of hot breath escaped his large nostrils as he groaned a guttural response. “I promise it won't be much longer.”

Kitt hated lying but hated having to admit when her pride had gotten the best of her more. Typically, her glaring ego would result in a few extra drinks at the Van Horn saloon or the occasional petty argument with her employer, Mister Gus MacMillan, over the quality of a raccoon pelt she had ruined with buckshot. But, Nothing she had ever done put her life at risk like it was at that moment.

Earlier, the sky surrounding the purple and blue snow capped peaks was mostly clear with bluebirds and sparrows dancing across the horizon. But, a deep rumbling of winter thunder and darkened clouds laden with snow threatened the young trapper in the distance. Kitt, having known Ambarino like the back of her hand, understood the storm was only a few hours away, and moving quickly. However, she blatantly dismissed the warnings of mother nature and pushed herself further into the mountainside after she spied the most peculiar-looking moose. He was a magnificent creature, and Rather than the ordinary dark brown coat expected to be donned by a full-grown bull, this one was entirely white. Kitt could not defy the mouth-watering temptation to own the hefty sum of cash his skin would most definitely merit and tracked the beast until the blanket of fresh snow reached the height of her waist. Still, had her father looked after her as he had done for the entirety of her life, he would have deterred his only daughter from getting caught in the storm of the century.

Marcel Arquette was an extraordinary fur trapper as bright as he was talented with a bolt-action rifle. Instinctively, the man would have understood when to admit defeat, turn back, and let the frost-colored moose escape to his own devices. The Frenchman never hunted more than what was essential for the family to sell and survive, but Kitt struggled to restrain herself and desired a life of comfort she had never experienced before. She yearned to leave the lifestyle of a wayward wanderer who slept amongst the harsh elements for a life of feather beds and warm food, especially now that she was orphaned. It had only been six months since her father succumbed to fever and twenty-five years since her mother passed. Still, Kitt missed the many mindless conversations about medicinal herbs, animal facts, or her fathers life before she was born. His huge laugh reverberated throughout the Grizzlies, frightening most of the wild game they sought to uncover.

The life she had once cherished and thrived in with her Papa, now, left her weary. Hunger pains chewed at her stomach more than before, and the crisp mountain atmosphere no longer replenished her lungs with exhilaration and energy. Instead, Kitt was perpetually exhausted from constantly existing in a state of starvation, indifference, and lonesomeness. Hunting alone in dead silence without someone to converse with did not make her feel anything but nothingness.

However, Kitt couldn’t let her lingering melancholy seep through the borders she had thrust around her broken heart. She had the horse to worry for, and though he did not have a name, a valid name, the old gelding had stuck through the years by her side without complaint. Now, It was Kitt’s turn to lead them to safety or die trying.

The soft fingers of Death’s thin hands caressed Kitt’s eyes and ears with whispers of delicious promises of bottomless sleep to quell the burning sensation that ignited her frostbitten skin like a raging fire. As she trekked on, exhausted and sore, her brain fought through the overwhelming tiredness to remember the words her father had told her after discovering the body of Papa Aiden.

“When a man succumbs to the cold, his mind will hasten the process by persuading him that the skin that had once felt ice cold is now hotter than any hearth fire. It is bittersweet but poetic nonetheless.”

The body of her father's oldest friend and lover was blue and black like a raven's feathers and entirely nude. Before he died, Aiden had hurled his buffalo coat a few feet away, and his thick, woolen shirt was nowhere to be found. But his newly patched trousers still clung around his ankles where he had lost consciousness face first into the snow late that night. Kitt was only nine and could not fully comprehend why the once happy man she loved almost as much as her father had stripped himself entirely bare to run wildly into the woods and die alone after he had spent most of their ride uncharacteristically complaining of the cold which chatted his teeth and coated his bones in frost. Through tears and heartbreak, her father said the earth was too frozen and rocky to bury the handsome Irishman, and Kitt often wondered if his body on Mount Shann was the same as when they left her father's shack all those years ago—perfectly preserved by the permafrost.

Now, Kitt understood how her father's partner had felt before he succumbed to the elements, burning, and heavy with indescribable exhaustion. Slowly, the young woman struggled to fight back the fear that bubbled in her gut as the blizzard raged well into the twilight with no indication that it would stop. Would she, too, die alone, nude, and preserved under mountains of ice until some other poor soul happened upon her corpse?

Who could say?

After a while, the trees and rocks no longer held any significance as the encroaching darkness overwhelmed her fragmenting reality. The remnants left of her sanity began to twist and turn, intertwining the forest with the forgotten rememberings of her past, painting figments of her papa, Aiden, and her unknown mother against the stark canvas of glistening white snow. Kitt resisted, ignoring the calls of the dead, and prayed to whoever might be listening to strike her deaf. The screams of Aiden's last moments echoed and rode in tandem with the howling of the wind until they transitioned into the familiar sounds of a lonely elk calling against the mountainside.

Suddenly, Kitt felt her gut lurch deep into her chest. A presence sat behind her to wrap its bloody limbs tight around Kitt's waist, humming a familiar cradlesong she had thought lost to time. The entity's lips gently touched the crook of Kitt’s neck and its breath cut sharp through Kitt’s scarf. The ghost inhaled and whispered:

“Sleep now, my daughter.”

Suddenly, the world went dark.

….

An unknown amount of time passed, but the moon was still high in the sky, and tendrils of dull light lazily drifted through the uneven slats of the roof and illuminated the hay-covered flooring.

Kitt inhaled sharply and jerked awake, slinging her head from side to side while hunting for the apparition that had haunted her. However, the young woman found herself alone and inside what seemed to be a rundown and abandoned horse stable. The decent-sized shack was empty save for a few dust-covered tools, and a soot-covered hearth meant to burn hot coals for shoemaking.

Besides the gentle skittering of various rodents along the breaking shafts, Kitt determined that by the looks of the building, it had long since been left behind to waste away underneath the snow. Though she was considerably knowledgeable about the ruins scattered across the peaks, whether it be from the cold or hunger she felt throughout her hurting body, Kitt could not outwardly recall where she was.

The young woman emitted a pitiful whimper and relaxed her painfully stiff shoulders, creaking like the stable floor boards and dropping layers of snow from her limbs onto the ground. Kitt had fallen unconscious at some point in her journey and was astonished that she somehow remained in her saddle, straddling her horse's ribs and grasping his harnesses. But, by God's grace, the old gelding continued through the storm without her guidance until he found the abandoned stable. Now, he knickered and pawed, begging to be released from his burdens. Kitt slowly descended her saddle like a greenhorn rider, fumbling through the darkness until her boots stretched out to the safety of the solid ground.

Once on her feet, Kitt ran her gloved hand along the horse's thick neck until she reached his face and pressed her forehead against the old mount's snout. At that moment, she could have sworn he comprehended the gratitude she felt for his courage swelling from her soul. Once again, the nameless beast had saved her from perishing in the blizzard. And once again, she did not know how to repay him.

“You're some sort of guardian angel. Thank you.” Kitt mumbled. The horse pulled his head free from her grasp, and lazily drifted to munch on a heap of fodder.

Kitt smiled and determined that peeling off the horse's saddle and bridle would suffice until she could reward him with his favorite radishes and apples. A groan reverberated with satisfaction from his belly as the weight lifted from his back. He shivered off the tension that sat painfully between his muscles.

Kitt, dropping bloodstained pelts as she limped, hauled the saddle into one of the vacant stalls and arranged it amongst a pile of old hay. Luckily, it was too cold for venomous creatures like snakes or spiders to burrow themselves between the grass, nor would she have the foresight to worry about such things before Kitt hurled her body down next to her only real possession. Coated head to toe in sinew, blood, and animal skins, Kitt slid her thick frame underneath the firm leather of her embroidered saddle, mimicking how her horse had sported it for all the years they spent together. Finally, She drank in his residual body heat and allowed her own to rest. This time, on her terms.

No more whispers of the dead.

And no more pain.

…

For the first sunrise since the Van Der Linde gang arrived in the abandoned mine town of Colter, the frigid storm that had provided the wanted outlaws an ideal getaway finally broke long enough to allow Charles Smith to leave the cramped quarters he reluctantly shared with his brothers in arms. It was before sunrise, and the young man of Indigenous and Black blood watched the light peak from the eastern mountains from the doorway while Lenny, Javier, and Micah slept behind him. He stretched out the soreness that permeated deep into the threads of his muscular neck and back. The man of twenty-four years hadn’t slept, at least not adequately, and blamed his restlessness on the tiny, uncomfortable bed he compressed his massive body into. As well, the persistent gnawing he felt radiating from the slow healing injury on his right hand kept him awake long into the midnight hours. When asked about the new set of dark circles, which hung heavy from his dark-colored eyes, by a concerned Susan Grimshaw, Charles would only have to say that he could not rest due to Micah and his horrendous sleep apnea. All of which honestly caused the dark-skinned youth to scowl each night while he stared at the spaces between the ceiling boards, wrapped tightly in his black coat and tattered blankets. But while each justification was annoying and contributed to his sleepless nights, they were not the actual cause. No, he thanked the painful memories of his time before Dutch had adopted him into his band of wayward souls, for they decided to plague him for the first time in years.

Charles glanced down at the stained bandage wrapped around his dominant palm and flexed his fingers continuously until the searing pain reappeared underneath the oozing and scabbed flesh. There would be a decent scar once the burn healed and he withered at the thought. It would be another few days before he could hold a bow or shoot his sawed-off shotgun. While he waited, he would devour the endless hours meandering aimlessly around the outskirts of the camp, unable to pull his weight.

Typically the elders or ladies of the camp would look to him to help with tasks that required brute strength, but in Colter, the daily functions of the base were suspended. All except Arthur and John waited and warmed themselves by the fireplace glow while the formers explored the perimeter. John Marston had been gone for two days looking for any promising shelter, and Arthur left that morning to scavenge the charred remains of Sadie Adler's homestead for any untouched goods he could bring back to feed his family. Charles had asked his mentor if he could join him but was instructed to hang around camp to recover.

Another few days of feeling simply —-useless.

Charles huffed and descended the step of his cabin into the glistening snow. He couldn't help but marvel at how much ice had fallen during the night. It was enough to reach his knee and saturate the thick fabric of his trousers. He shrugged off the uncomfortable chill, coming to be acclimated to the feeling, and carried through towards the empty cooking station where Mister Pierson had already started up his daily task of feeding the household.

Ever the busy body, Charles reasoned he would converse with the retired navy man to see if he could get any information on Arthur’s latest expedition in O’Driscoll country. Earlier, Dutch and Hosea made it a point to exclude Charles from the gang's business because they knew that a wounded palm would not prevent the man from pursuing Arthur wherever the hardened outlaw went. So, Charles supposed Pierson would be the next best thing—even if he loathed useless chatter. And boy, did Pierson adore worthless talk.

There was never an instant where Charles Smith took it easy. Despite the reassurance he received from Arthur and Dutch after the unfortunate incident in Blackwater that caused his annoying injury, he worried that his involuntary idleness would ultimately be misunderstood as laziness. Still, the man really needn’t bother because Dutch seemed to have a soft spot for lazy men such as Uncle, who somehow managed to coast through the years with little to show for his duration with the gang. Unlike Uncle, Charles had demonstrated his usefulness in the last six months he ran with Dutch and Hosea by supporting all their morally questionable endeavors regardless of the risks associated with dancing around the local authorities. But, the years Charles spent roaming from band to band around the Western Frontier since he was old enough to carry a rifle conditioned him.

To be lazy meant to be worthless and, ultimately, banished.

The Van Der Linde gang was the closest thing to a family Charles had ever held, and he was not willing to give it up anytime soon. As he moved into the shed from the frigid wind, the rosy cheeks of Simon Pierson welcomed him. The fallen sailor wore a wide grin underneath his thick mustache, and Charles repaid the gesture with a slight nod of his head, evading the man’s loitering gaze.

“Well, I would say it was surprising to see you here this early, Mister Smith,” Pierson huffed.

The heavyset man’s strong arms raised a heavy, iron cauldron whose contents were a stew made of thin broth and an assortment of filler vegetables, suspicious meat, and no seasoning to mask the awful taste. But, no one in the gang complained as a full belly made of awful food was better than starvation. Pierson positioned the pot, hanging it over a little flame and stored the gruel with a wooden spoon. He tasted the meal, cursed under his breath, and rested against a wooden chair.

The fire that cooked the food struggled to survive under the steady gusts of bitter Ambarino wind that beat it into submission. The measly fire was started on a bed of old hay and twigs, and Charles made a mental reminder to collect more timber for the cook later. After a moment, he turned his dark eyes to the heavyset sailor's gaze. “But you’re always up before dawn. So you must forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm. I’ve stopped being surprised, and the cold makes me cranky.”

“Mmm,” Charles grunted, holding the palms of his hands near the fire to warm them. Already the tips of his thick fingers grew ashen and numb from his brisk walk between his station and Pierson’s makeshift kitchen. The biting chill caused Charles's thoughts to drift to Arthur Morgan. Concerned about his current state, Charles hoped the man was roaming through the cliffs alright. They weren't particularly intimate, and their relationship could be described as more than an acquaintance, yet not quite a friend. But, Arthur reminded him of the man his father used to be before firewater plagued his mind—solid and courageous… If not a tad but stupid.

Pierson held off and watched the man think, understanding that young Charles was a creature of few words and spoke only when he felt necessary. However, the cook saw by the troubled expression on Charles’s face that the lad was stir-crazy and needed something to entertain him lest he lose his sanity to boredom. After all, it wasn’t like Charles Smith to seek Pierson out of his own volition.

“So, Charles, you feel like doing something?” Pierson requested as he wiped the assortment of food, dirt, and sweat along the coarse fabric of his thick military jacket.

“…what do you have in mind?” Charles questioned, trying not to look too enthusiastic. Nevertheless, the break in Charles’s deep voice and the shit eating smile across Pierson's face said otherwise. Yes, he had to do something.

Anything.

“ I know it’s not much, but do you think you can gather the coals left in the stable? They seemed pretty spent when I last checked, but anything is better than this–shit.” Pierson moaned and watched the tiny flame threaten to die. “ I’d go, but someone has to be here to ensure breakfast cooks.”

“Sure thing.” Charles said.

“There is a rusty bucket you can use to put the bastards in. Just don’t cut yourself, Mister Smith. God forbid you’re out of commission for a moment more than necessary.” Pierson chuckled, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket before placing the tobacco between his thin lips. Charles nodded and briskly turned on his heel toward the abandoned stable without saying goodbye. Pierson huffed, smiled, and lit the cigarette as he watched the strange man leave.

…

As Charles approached the stable, a sudden thought crossed his mind. The double doors of the shack were a jar, unlike how he had left it the day prior. Under tightly furrowed brows, he stood still and carefully analyzed the building for any warning of foul play. Like most of his thoughts, they did not contain words and were more like an instinct he felt reverberating through his bones. The shiver that went down his spine was one he could not dismiss.

Something was not right, but he could not say why or how…or by who. At least not yet. Quietly, Charles approached the entrance, creeping inside as he palmed the hilt of the large hunting knife strapped to his holster. For a man his size, Charles prided himself on his uncanny mastery of remaining undetected, especially when he wanted to be.

As he entered, he glanced at each stall containing the gang's horses, including his trusted appaloosa mare, Taima. She greeted her rider with a happy wine and Charles loosened up. He sighed at his jumpiness and casually made his way towards the horses. He chuckled to himself. Had there been any real danger, Taima would have definitely alerted him, but right now, she seemed more than happy to see him. She pawed at her stable door, telling her rider about her discomfort behind closed doors. Like him, Taima needed open fields and freedom to roam. And like him, she too suffered in Colter.

Charles reached for her neck, and stroked her while he whispered sweet nothings to her. He loved his horse more than anything. While he pampered his poney, another cry echoed further down the stable hall, and Charles recognized it as Javier's mount, Boaz. The unruly paint was easily jealous and hated to be ignored.

“Calm yourself. Boaz. I'll come say hi in a minute.” Charles exclaimed, patting Taima roughly before an unfamiliar bray accompanied the paint. Charles stood still and saw an unfamiliar chestnut horse inhabiting the last stable. As he silently moved towards the strange horse, he abruptly observed that the once bare floor was now smeared with smudges of dried blood. Charles slowly crouched down and touched the rust-colored stain. The red fluid had dried already, and though they were faint, tracks of heavy-toed boots descended the hall towards the horse.

Charles scowled and wiped the residue from his fingertips on his trousers, and reached for his knife again. As he surpassed the gelding, Charles spied an unfamiliar saddle embroidered with jumping rabbits and wild flowers resting in the hay behind the old boy. The horse did not show fear or emotion and allowed the young man to touch his broad nose. Whoever had spent the night in the stable was gone and left their mount and belongings behind.

O’Driscolls maybe? Or, had John finally returned with a stolen horse?

The boot tracks were too small to be Marston’s, and the horse he rode earlier was nowhere to be seen. No, this was somebody he had never happened upon before. Charles glanced to his left and spied a pile of blood-stained, silver fur resting along the bottom seal of the stable door. He unsheathed his knife, bent down, and flicked the hide with the tip of his blade.

“A fox pelt?” Charles huffed, raising the uncleaned skin to his sight for a closer look.

Once again, that intuitive shudder ran along the length of his spine. And suddenly, the stable doors slammed shut.

#charles smith rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #charles smith x original character #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom

[onsunnyside]

son son my love have you heard the fantastic 4 news?? more content to fuel the johnny storm flames 😩 ❤️‍🔥

i have !! pls daddy!johnny storm reminds me of bestie sabs @hansensgirl silver fox!johnny fic: he can be my mister—yum!

#i am: son son #ask sonny

[lovehungrygirl]

Just me and my friend watching kingsman and giving Harry different names.

Harry "Silver fox" Hart

Harry "if he beats the shit out of me I'll be thankful" Hart

Harry "Daddy" Hart

Harry "a man over fifty shouldn't be able to be that hot in suits" Hart

Harry "Hot" Hart.

And we finished looking at each other and saying. We can call him mister 3H you know.

#kingsman #harry hart #colin firth