#my hat eternally bit for their ability to know exactly what will be the best bit

[evankinard]

911 writers are forever committed to always looking at their options and taking the funniest possible direction and I can never applaud them enough for that

#my hat eternally bit for their ability to know exactly what will be the best bit #911 spoilers #weewoo brainrot #buddie #evan buckley #911 abc #eddie diaz

[katies3pticeye]

Closer

It was a simple task. It should have been easy at this rate. For one, Chase had gone to the store to buy props for his videos several times. The only times he didn’t was when Jack let him borrow something, but for the most part, he visited this shop a ton- probably more than anyone else had in their lives. All the things he needed were there: nerf guns, bullets, things to shoot trick-shots in… it was all located right there- in that simple store.

That’s actually where he met Jack the first time. No wonder he always went to that specific one. There were so many memories there. So many… happy memories.

However, today, it was hard for him to get out of bed. He wasn’t awoken by his son and daughter playing on their switches in the living room. He wasn’t awoken by Stacy getting out of bed, going to make herself some coffee before her 9-to-5 job.

They were all at her sister’s this weekend.

Also, to be honest… he felt so lonely. It was like he was suffocating within the house’s walls. Waking up to a house filled with nothing was… demotivating to say the least.

No texts from Jack saying, “Good morning.” Those might’ve been Jack’s last words to Chase, actually. “Hope you’re having a good day.” “Hope Anti isn’t getting to you.” “Stacy being any nicer?”

Just straight up- nothing.

Jack fell into a coma.

This was the fact that… really, no ego knew how to deal with: especially Chase. Schneep buried himself into his work, JJ worked on more silent movies… Jackie ran around with the ability to save lives, which Chase really admired, but he wished Jackie managed to save Jack. It was understandable, though. Anti was a too-powerful force to fight alone. Marvin worked on some new stone formula he was rambling about. “A way to save Jack,” whatever.

Jack was in a coma. He probably wouldn’t make it out alive. That was that.

It was probably pessimistic of him to figure that, but when you’re in Chase’s shoes, what else could you think at this moment? Maybe Schneep shouldn’t ha- too far, Chase. Too far.

He looked down at the table in the foyer. The room had no lights on; the natural lighting of the day pierced through the windows, brightening up the room as much as it needed. Chase noticed his hat resting on its surface. Normally, he’d put it on. It was how the public told him apart from the other egos. Hat and gun. Chase.

He walked out of the house, not even touching it. No regrets- part of Chase didn’t feel deserving of the title. “Jacksepticeye ego.” Such a strange concept. The fact that he was close enough to him to be called that. Jack was such an amazing friend to him. Chase knew he didn’t deserve that.

He got in his car and drove over to the store. The shop was filled with memories and flashbacks. Would this be a good idea? Honestly, probably not. When Chase got out of the car, he knew it was strange. The whole feeling surrounding this place… it changed.

It was almost like he was seeing the place for the first time. Its darker equivalent- filled with past memories which, honestly, filled him with more sadness than remembrance.

It was a weird deja vu. Jack and him haven’t been to the store together in awhile, so it wasn’t like it was a daily routine. It just seemed so strange to be here without him right now. It was so weird…

“Hey, Jack!”

Chase’s eyes flew open and looked behind him, only to see a kid- maybe about age nine- running up to him while smiling.

“Jack, Jack, Jack! That video yesterday was so cool!” The girl laughed, glancing at Chase. That’s when he realized it. He left the hat at home.

This girl thought that he was Jack.

“The amount of editing to make Anti seem realistic? That must’ve been really challenging! Tell Robin I told him that he did a great job, will you?”

He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t editing at all. He wanted to say that Jack actually sliced his neck; that he was in a coma. However, he couldn’t bare to tell the truth to this little girl. She’s too young and optimistic to have her joy taken down like that.

So with a shaky breath, Chase responded, “Oh, yeah. I- I will! J- I was- uh… I was-“ Chase exhaled to calm himself, trying not to let his emotions surface before continuing. “I was really proud of him.”

“Are you okay, Jack?” The girl asked, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Yep! Never been better,” Chase said rather quickly, giving her the best smile he possibly could, though it was obviously pained. Whether the girl realized that or not was up to how smart she was.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you in your next upload! Can’t wait for today’s one!”

And then the girl left.

There was one thing for certain. Chase didn’t know what to do.

Okay, look- Jack was in a coma! No one- not even one subscriber- would get a post coming from Jack in years. Maybe never! Was he supposed to crush all of these people’s dreams like this? Their dreams of finally meeting Jack at that one VidCon meet and greet? Their dreams of finding out what happens to these “characters”?

Chase went back in his car, not even bothering to go to go into the store. He turned it on, and once he did, he dialed one of the closest friends he had: Schneep. Honestly, Chase was kind of surprised once he picked up. Henrik’s usually really busy at the ER.

“Hey, Henrik,” Chase said, putting the phone against his ear as he started driving away from the store.

“You don’t usually call- it’s usually just a text,” Henrik replied, his voice actually sounding kind of concerned on the other side of the line. Maybe it’s because of a patient, or maybe it’s because of the fact that Jack fell into a coma yesterday. Who knows? “Are you okay?”

“I’m f-“ Chase stopped in the middle of his sentence, honestly not knowing if he should’ve said the typical ‘fine’ response or not. Everyone was dealing with Jack’s death right now. He might as well be honest, right? “I- well, this person at the prop shop Jack and I used to go to for everything? They recognized me, but- but they thought I was Jack.”

“Chase, this is why you’re supposed to go with the hat on! Didn’t we all have this meeting earlier? Marvin goes in the mask, JJ wears hi-“

“I know!”

Henrik stopped his ramble when Chase spoke, but after a few seconds of silence passed, he started talking again. “Then why did you go without it?”

“Because I-“ Chase sighed, glancing out at the street in front of him. “Because I didn’t feel like I deserved it.”

“Chase, you know that’s not true,” Henrik said, his voice, once again, filled with the original concern.

“We can leave that up to negotiation, but look, that fan who thought I was Jack? She was so excited to see him again today, and I- and… I don’t know,” Chase replied. “I just… feel like I could do something about it?”

A few moments of silence passed before Henrik spoke up. “What are you thinking of doing, Chase? Jack- he isn’t waking up for a long time. You and I both know that.”

“We have to do something on his channel. Something everyone will love- something us characters can do for him,” Chase started, his mind scrambling through a ton of different ideas all at once. “Get all of the egos to Jack’s house- except Anti, obviously. We all have a key. We can plan this out together.”

“Chase, we can’t tell the world that he’s-“

“Get them all together,” Chase interrupted, showing Henrik that he’s dedicated to this. He wasn’t going to let Jack’s channel sit and rot until he woke up. They had to do something. “...please.”

There was a pause that seemed like an eternity towards the man driving the car, but soon, Henrik finally replied. “Alright. Okay- we’ll do it. I just finished my work anyway.”

“Thanks, Henrik,” Chase said, glad that he accepted the idea in the end.

“You’re welcome.”

~

And that’s why all of the egos were sitting around the living room, obviously confused about what Chase was planning. Honestly, Chase didn’t even know what he was doing himself. “Look, all I know is that we can’t leave Jack’s channel empty while he’s in a coma.”

Jameson was sitting in a chair towards the corner of the room. Henrik and Jackie sat next to each other on the couch while Marvin leaned against the wall. Chase was pacing around the room, glancing at the egos every now and then in hope to see some type of spark fly in their eyes.

“Don’t you guys get it? Jack needs us to be there for him, even if he physically can’t respond to us anymore,” Chase started, stopping his movement and standing in front of the TV so everyone could clearly see him. “If we leave his channel alone, all of his subscribers are going to think he vanished into thin air!”

“That’s exactly what he did,” Marvin said, his arms crossed as he looked over at Chase. “He’s gone. Whether the fans realize that or not is up to them. Whether they think Anti was a character or not? Up to them.”

“Not to be mean or anything, but what would we do about it anyways?” Jackie asked. “I’d be down to do skits or whatever for a bit, but people would catch on eventually. They’d start asking where the gameplay videos are.”

“Then we make gameplay videos, and we don’t show the fact that we’re characters,” Chase suggested, trying to think of a solution to that.

Jameson looked over at Chase before signing. “Chase, I can’t speak, so.”

“Then we- I don’t know,” Chase sighed.

“We have to leave it up to those conspiracy theorists,” Marvin shrugged. “We don’t have another option. If we start uploading, Anti’s only going to get more upset. His ‘puppets are taking over the channel’ type of deal. Been ‘watching the puppets.’ That shit.”

“Someone’s got to have some faith in this idea, right?” Chase asked, glancing at everyone. “We can’t let them suffer in the unknown!”

“The unknown is the only option,” Jackie said, feeling a little bad that he was arguing against the almost-desperate Chase, but from where he stood, it seemed like the best choice.

“Everyone fears the unknown, and the darkest theories will always be death,” Henrik added, finally speaking throughout this entire conversation. “Look, I’ve made my mistakes, but I know that Jack wouldn’t want to be the ‘YouTuber who disappeared for four years because he actually almost died.’ I don’t think his fans want that legacy either. Honestly, I think Chase is onto something. We just have to think about what to do.”

There were a few moments of silence before Jackie spoke up. “So if this crazy, insane idea works- we’ll all be seen as Jack? Even though we have different accents and personalities? We’d just be… making a fake identity of ourselves on the screen? Faking as our friend?”

Jameson looked over at Jackie and started signing. “At least you have an accent.” They both smiled a little bit, knowing that it was just a joke.

“We can’t all fake as Jack,” Henrik said, glancing over at Jackie. “It has to be one of us. One of us that will be able to showcase Jack the most. Someone who knows how to work YouTube- someone who’s energetic and-“

“I’ll do it,” Chase interrupted, raising his hand as he did to show that his decision was final. “I came up with the idea. We know damn well that some of you don’t even understand technology. The fact that I was falsely recognized as Jack already shows that I might be able to pull it off.”

“But then that’s two channels- Chase, are you sure?” Henrik asked.

“Look- we’re all busy. JJ has to work on his silent movies, Jackie has to save lives, Marvin has to work on the stone- hell, even you, Henrik, are diving even deeper into your massive workload,” Chase replied, looking over at him. “Just take this as my fair share. I’m the YouTube guy.”

“And you get to steal all of Jack’s money from ad revenue.” Jackie smirked, laughing a little.

“Jackie, no,” Marvin sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“So… you sure you’re okay with it?” Henrik questioned, knowing that adding another channel’s weight on Chase’s load of shit would probably take a toll on him.

He just nodded, though- accepting his fate. “Again, I came up with the idea. You couldn’t do it, Schneep, your accent isn’t like Jack’s at all. JJ, you literally can’t talk. Marvin, you’re busy saving Jack’s life with that stone thing. I guess Jackie is the best second option, but it’s hard to get him in front of a camera without being in a red spandex.”

“Hey!” Jackie frowned, crossing his arms.

“Kidding, kidding,” Chase chuckled. “But I know I’m probably the most qualified to take over his spot, so I’ll take it.”

“Alright,” Henrik sighed, looking over at him. “If you ever need a break day, Jackie could probably take your place for that, y’know.”

“I’ve wanted to play South Park anyways.” Jackie smiled.

“Thanks, guys, but I’ll be okay,” Chase replied, glancing at everyone. “I can manage.”

~

Famous last words.

It was weird acting as Jack, but he finished up a good month of videos. Only a couple of odd notices happened in public, so that was good for Chase at least. Two channels were starting to take their toll on him, though.

He was at Jack’s house for most of the time, but he decided to go back to his house for one of the break days Henrik mentioned back then- for Jackie to take over. Chase was honestly really thankful for that excuse because Jackie really wanted to play South Park, and he was starting to get annoyed that Chase was “hogging” the channel.

Anyway, when Chase got home, he walked through the front door, and somehow… the lights didn’t work. They wouldn’t turn on. Strange.

He saw on the table a lighter and a candle, almost like someone put them there. The hat wasn’t resting in its place anymore; it was gone somehow. Chase lit a candle and used it as his flashlight throughout the house. When he heard his children, he got even more nervous, so he started being a bit more cautious but hectic at the same time.

That’s when he saw him.

Anti.

He was standing at the end of the hallway, and Chase would be lying if he didn’t say that he was scared shitless. “Who’s there?” Anti just turned around, knowing damn well that he knew who he was. His eye lit green, causing Chase’s expression to grow even more panicked.

He remembered his children from before, so he couldn’t help but ask the next question. “Where are they?” Once he saw Anti not even twitch, he yelled out another. “What do you want from me?!”

And then he came closer.

#jacksepticeye #chase brody #bro average #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #pma #dr schneeplestein #jacksepticeye egos #antisepticeye #dark silence #marvin the magnificent

[purplehairedwonder]

Inside a Broken Dream Chapter 5

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen Words: 3617 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Penguin, Jean Bart, Smoker, Tashigi Note: Story title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.” Character and relationship tags reflect the current chapter. Obviously this is canon-divergent ;)

Warnings: There is an assault in this chapter. It’s not overtly sexual, but if that bothers you, avoid the italicized section.

Summary: Two years after Wano, peace on the Grand Line is fragile. Trafalgar Law and the Heart Pirates are doing their best to help maintain the peace, but when Doflamingo returns with Law in his sights, the balance of power entirely may shatter entirely.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law was so startled by the revelation that he forgot his vulnerable position for a moment, eyes widening. Dying? He could have laughed, except—

“I’m going to fix it?” he echoed in disbelief, brain catching up with the other man’s words. “Why the hell would I do that?”

Doflamingo set his pistol down on the table—Law’s shoulders loosened at that—and reached down to grab Law by the collar and pull him upright in the chair he was bound to.

“For one thing,” he said directly into Law’s face as Law very carefully did not flinch. “It’s your fault.”

“Oh?” Law raised an eyebrow. “As happy as that would make me, when did I—”

“Dressrosa.”

Law blinked, momentarily confused, then recognition struck like lightning. “The Gamma Knife.” That was supposed to be a killing blow—and it would have been against anyone who couldn’t stitch their organs back together with strings. But Doflamingo had said that was merely first aid, not healing. It had been a patch job for the immediate damage to his organs but didn’t account for the—

“You have radiation poisoning,” Law realized. He hadn’t spent much time thinking about the long-term effects of the attack after developing it because he hadn’t considered that someone might survive for more than a few agonizing minutes. But it made sense. Interesting.

Doflamingo rose to his full height, forcing Law to look up at him. “The doctors at Impel Down discovered it not long after I arrived. My unique abilities have kept me alive longer than I had any reason to live.”

“But you’re almost out of time,” Law deduced. Radiation at the level Doflamingo had been exposed to from that attack should have killed him within days, if not hours. That he had lived for two years after the attack was downright miraculous. But even his impressive biology and the creative use of his Fruit couldn’t keep him alive indefinitely.

Doflamingo’s expression tightened, as if it pained him to concede, “Only the Ope Ope no Mi can cure me now.”

For a moment, Law was speechless as he processed what he’d just heard. Suddenly it made sense why Akainu had chosen now to sic Doflamingo on him; he didn’t have any more time to wait if he was going to play that card. But Doflamingo was, as ever, the Joker—a wild card.

And then Law laughed, hard enough that tears formed in his eyes. He knew the laughter was jagged with sharp, unhinged edges to it, but he couldn’t stop himself. It had taken an additional two years—fifteen years since that night—but Law had pulled the trigger after all.

Cora-san…

After several long moments, Law collected himself with no little effort, aware that Doflamingo’s veins were bulging in fury. But Law couldn’t bring himself to care. Doflamingo couldn’t maim the only surgeon in the world who could save him. And Law would need to use his abilities if he were to operate on the former Warlord, so the threat of another Seastone bullet was just that—a threat. Even the one in his shoulder would have had to come out eventually.

“Why,” Law asked, amusement still evident in his voice, “would I help you when I was the one to deal the blow in the first place?” Especially now that Doflamingo knew the truth about that night and Law’s revenge mission.

“For the sake of your crew.”

Law stilled, all traces of humor dissolving. “What?”

“I have two members of your crew in the brig,” Doflamingo reminded him. “How long do you think Penguin and Jean Bart would hold up under torture, Law?” He tapped his chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “I’d bet on Jean Bart outlasting the bird, being a former captain and slave. But maybe he’ll surprise me.”

Fury, now uninhibited by Seastone, uncurled in Law’s chest. “No,” he snarled.

“No?” Now Doflamingo’s tone had turned amused.                              

“They have nothing to do with this.”

“They have everything to do with this,” Doflamingo sneered. “The moment you made them yours, they became mine as well. Because you’ve been mine since you were ten years old, Law. You know what kind of Family we are.”

“You son of a bitch,” Law growled. “You leave them alone.” This is exactly what he’d been afraid of when he’d sent his crew to Zou while he went to Punk Hazard on his own.

“Why would I do that? I know better than to think I could torture you into compliance. I trained you too well for that.” Doflamingo licked his lips in anticipation. “But your crew? I know you never did for them what I did for you.”

Doflamingo was right; he’d never treated his crew the way Doflamingo had treated his Family—valued for their usefulness to the captain. It had taken Cora-san’s death for Law to realize it, but Doflamingo was everything Law didn’t want to be in a leader. The only Donquixote legacy Law wanted to pass on was that of Cora-san.

The thought of Penguin and Jean Bart subjected to the cruelty he knew Doflamingo capable of, Law forced to watch helplessly as they suffered because of him, made Law sick. It was his job as captain to protect his crew.

But he also knew the danger of healing Doflamingo, knew what the man could and would do once he was no longer suffering from the effects of radiation poisoning. Doflamingo couldn’t have much time left if he’d been willing to risk stealing a Marine ship and kidnapping Law in broad daylight. If they could just outlast him…

“And besides the two in the brig,” Doflamingo added, “the rest are sailing right into my arms as we speak.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. Though his first instinct was panic, he forced his mind back to logic. Penguin and Jean Bart might be captive, but the rest of his crew was free. They would fight. And if the Straw Hats were also on the way, Doflamingo would be outmatched, even with a ship full of Marines under his control.

“I put my trust in my crew,” Law said finally. “And my allies.”

“Even against a Buster Call?” The retort was immediate, as if Law’s response had been expected. (It probably had been; Law had constantly felt steps behind Doflamingo ever since he’d known the man.)

Law went cold, memories of Flevance surfacing in his mind’s eye unbidden. The gunfire tearing through bodies like paper, the blood flowing like rivers, the heat of the fire that consumed the hospital and Lami, the moans of the dying children he should have been among, the weight of the corpses pressing in on him as he fled…

That hadn’t been a Buster Call, but it had been close enough.

He thought of Nico Robin and the haunted looks that she masked expertly from her crew but never could disguise from Law when he knew them from his own mirror.

He shook himself, trying to force the images from his mind. “What?”

Doflamingo smirked widely. “What do you think Akainu would do if I sent word that I’d lured both the Heart and Straw Hat crews to one place?” He slammed a hand down flat on the table, and Law started, despite himself. The memories had cracked his composure, and he knew Doflamingo had seen it. “It may not be his original plan, but do you think that man wouldn’t take the chance to wipe out the both of you at once?”

“You’d still be dying in that case,” Law countered, swallowing against the bile in his throat.

Doflamingo tilted his head. “Perhaps. But at least I’d be taking you and Straw Hat and your nakama with me.”

The words struck a familiar chord. Law had felt much the same when he’d made his plans for attacking Dressrosa; if he’d died, so be it—as long as Doflamingo’s death was assured in the process. And now their roles were reversed. The power of a man with nothing to lose could be a fearsome thing indeed.

“But it doesn’t have to come to that,” Doflamingo added.

“If I do the operation,” Law supplied flatly.

“It would make things simpler, would it not?”

Law’s eyes narrowed. “My crew will be unharmed.”

“As long as you play your part, they won’t be harmed,” Doflamingo confirmed with a creeping smile that made Law’s skin crawl.

“And the Straw Hats? They are my allies.”

“Don’t push it.”

Law’s hands were clenched so tightly in fists that when he forced himself to loosen them, he found bloody crescent-shaped wounds in his palms. He absently rubbed his hands on his jeans, leaving bloody streaks on his thighs. He could try to push the negotiation further, but knowing Luffy, he wouldn’t care about or stick to a deal Law had struck anyway.

“Fine,” Law decided finally, the words strained. “I will treat the radiation poisoning only.”

He would not be cornered into the other operation. Law didn’t mind dying to protect his nakama, but he wouldn’t unleash an eternally-young and powerful Doflamingo on them—or the world. And he knew his crew and allies wouldn’t accept him making that trade either. It was the one line he wasn’t willing to cross to protect them—at the end of the day, it wouldn’t protect them or anyone else he cared for anyway. He’d even risk the Buster Call for that one.

Doflamingo nodded. “Agreed.” He eyed Law. “But to make sure you don’t get any more smart ideas before we reach Herrenlos, you won’t be leaving my sight.”

Herrenlos. Of course, Law thought as he remembered. It was the name of an island the Donquixote Family kept as a secure outpost in the New World in case they ever needed to flee their current locale. He’d learned all the names and locations of the Family outposts across the four Blues and Grand Line as a child. Law hadn’t thought about any of them in years since Doflamingo had been openly ruling Dressrosa while Law plotted his revenge. He’d asked Tashigi to find out where they were going, and she’d done so.

“Fantastic,” Law muttered.

-----

The longer Law was away, the more Penguin’s worry gnawed at his insides. The three prisoners had been brought their usual scraps for dinner, and when Marines had come to escort them to the bathroom, he’d tried to find out Law’s status but had only gotten an elbow to the gut for his trouble. Once night had fallen and his captain—his friend—still hadn’t returned, Penguin turned restless and started pacing his cell. Though he’d washed his hands in the bathroom, he could still feel Law’s blood on them from removing the bullet, and, though it wasn’t the first time, he’d never get used to that feeling.

“Would you stop before you wear a hole in the floor?” Smoker snapped. “Not all of us can swim.”

Penguin paused and glared at the Vice Admiral. “Easy to say when it’s not your captain being held captive by a madman.”

“No, it’s my partner and my men,” Smoker retorted coldly.

Penguin stiffened. Smoker had been commanding this mission when Doflamingo had taken it over, leaving his men under the string man’s control. And the swordswoman who’d taken Law away was Smoker’s partner; he’d forgotten.

“Right,” he muttered, sliding down against the wall again and burying his face in his collar. He could only be so sympathetic when the man had been leading a mission to capture or kill his captain in the first place.

He knew Law was more than capable of taking care of himself—he was a freaking Emperor—but he also knew there was a long, nasty history between the two former Warlords. And that history had been haunting Law since before Penguin had met him when Law was 13.

Having known Law for as long as he had, Penguin had seen and heard Law’s nightmares, had more than once held him as he came awake with whimpers or shrieks, his body wracked with tremors. He’d seen the haunted look in Law’s eyes, emphasized by the darkening circles under his eyes, and Law’s growing insomnia as he feared sleep, succumbing only when his body gave out from exhaustion. Once the original four Hearts had taken to the sea in the Polar Tang, Penguin had watched as Law stared at the skies and constantly looked over his shoulder, always wary of a flash of pink.

Penguin had also kept a careful eye on his friend once he’d returned from Dressrosa. After Doflamingo’s fall, some of the weight had lifted from Law’s shoulders and some of the shadows had faded from his eyes, but Law had never told even him, Shachi, and Bepo everything that had happened on Dressrosa. More than once, he’d caught Law absently fingering the ugly scar on his arm and flinching at the sight of guns and knew whatever had happened wouldn’t leave him so easily.

Law kept his pain to himself, tried to avoid burdening his nakama no matter how much they wanted to help him carry it—and so to know that Law, no matter how strong he was now, was once more in that man’s hands made Penguin sick.

Sometime during the night—it was impossible to keep track of time in the brig except for the visits of the guards and the sounds of activity above them on deck—the brig door opened. Penguin sat up, hoping to see Law, but it was the swordswoman.

“Tashigi,” Smoker said in surprise.

She put a finger to her lips. “I don’t have much time. I’m supposed to be going to the kitchens, but I took a detour.”

“Where’s Law?” Penguin demanded.

“With Doflamingo.” Penguin’s stomach sank. “As far as I know, he’s unharmed,” Tashigi added quickly, glancing between Penguin and Jean Bart. “But Doflamingo wants to keep an eye on him until we arrive.”

“Arrive?” Jean Bart asked.

“Where are we going?” Smoker prodded.

“An island called Herrenlos.”

Penguin frowned. “What’s that?”

Tashigi shrugged. “I don’t know. But it seemed to mean something to Trafalgar.” She looked at Smoker. “We should arrive sometime tomorrow.”

Smoker nodded thoughtfully. Tashigi, meanwhile, looked between Penguin and Jean Bart.

“Your crew is not far behind us.” She sighed. “Same with the Straw Hats.”

Smoker groaned, but Penguin and Jean Bart perked up. Penguin knew his nakama would come for them, but that they had apparently called the Straw Hats for backup as well was excellent news.

“Do you know what Doflamingo is up to?” Jean Bart asked.

Tashigi shook her head. “He sends me outside the room any time he talks about anything important.”

“Talks with who?” Smoker asked, leaning forward. “Law?”

“Him. And he’s been making calls on the Den Den Mushi.”

Smoker frowned. “Who would he be calling after two years in Impel Down?”

“I don’t know. Old contacts?” Tashigi twitched. “I have to go. Be careful,” she said, turning from the cells and leaving the brig.

“You be careful,” Smoker called after her, sighing as the door clanged shut behind her.

Penguin exchanged looks with Jean Bart. It was good that Law was okay, but that still didn’t answer what Doflamingo wanted him for. He supposed they would find out tomorrow.

He really hoped his nakama would hurry.

-----

Though Law had never been to Herrenlos, he’d seen the maps and base schematics—though that had been nearly two decades earlier. Still, the name had stuck with him; with its name meaning abandoned, the island had sounded haunted to Law when he was a boy. As the Marine vessel pulled into the docks on the island the next afternoon, Law took in the island through the window of the captain’s quarters and thought his younger self had been on the right track.

A rocky outcropping loomed over the beach, which was rocky rather than sandy and was scattered with desert flora. Atop the outcrop was the base—a warehouse with living quarters, from what Law could remember. The base was well-suited to defense from an outside attack… like would be coming from the Heart and Straw Hat crews.

As Law watched, the Marines, some under the control of strings and some moving of their own accord, started unloading cargo from the ship. Whatever items would be useful for stocking up the base, Law assumed.

Law flinched when one large hand came from behind to rest on his right shoulder, the other stroking down the left side of his face, tracing his line of his cheek—a facsimile of tenderness and affection.

“Stop that,” Law snapped then hissed in pain when a finger found its way into the bullet wound on his shoulder. His knees nearly buckled as the finger pressed into the wound, sending a jolt of pain down to his toes and drawing fresh blood, but Doflamingo’s unrelenting grip on his shoulder kept him upright.

“It’s time to go,” Doflamingo murmured into Law’s ear, his breath wet and warm against Law’s skin.

“Fine,” Law said through clenched teeth, gathering himself and turning on his heel. His shackles clanked with his sudden movement. He didn’t look at Doflamingo.

Doflamingo chuckled but let go of his shoulder and followed him. Tashigi was standing outside the door when Law opened it. She glanced back at him in surprise, eyes briefly falling to his left shoulder and blanching, but she was forced to walk half a step behind Law as a guard. Law ignored her reaction and strode forward. Doflamingo followed his two captives.

Neither Law nor Doflamingo slept the night before. For several hours after their tense arrangement had been reached, Law remained tied to the chair, stewing silently, while Doflamingo sat at the desk and looked over papers and maps and scribbled notes. Law very carefully did not think about how much this felt like sitting shackled to the Heart seat in Dressrosa, powerless.

Some time after night had fallen, Law started when he felt the strings confining him to the chair fall away. He looked over at Doflamingo, who had shifted in the desk chair to face Law, and raised an eyebrow. Rather than respond, the other man pointed a finger, and Law was pulled to his feet as a single string wrapped around his shackles and tugged him forward.

Law grimaced but didn’t fight the movement. He didn’t think it was worth picking the battle—not yet. He came to a stop directly in front of Doflamingo, Law’s thighs nearly touching the larger man’s knees. For a long moment, Doflamingo scrutinized Law from behind his glasses. Then he reached one hand, almost tentatively, up to Law’s face. Law inhaled sharply as Doflamingo’s hand cupped his cheek and tried to push back against the touch, but the string was still wrapped around his shackles and kept his hands in front of him.

“W-what—”

The hand slid from Law’s cheek to the back of his neck and fingers lightly brushed through the hair on his nape. Goosebumps erupted under the touch, Law intimately aware that Doflamingo’s large hand could enclose around his throat at any moment. Logically, he knew it wouldn’t because Doflamingo needed him alive, but his body wasn’t reacting to logic.

The fingers suddenly tightened in Law’s hair, and Law’s breath hitched as Doflamingo pulled back, exposing Law’s neck. Law swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Doflamingo slowly rose to his feet. He leaned over, as if to sniff Law’s exposed neck. Law’s heart hammered in his chest as his position became even more vulnerable.

Maybe he should have picked the battle after all.

“I always knew you’d grow up into something incredible, Law,” Doflamingo murmured.

“Funny,” Law replied, voice unsteady as he focused his gaze on the ceiling. “I didn’t expect to grow up at all.”

There was a huff of laughter against his neck, and Law suppressed a shudder. “I have always been good at cultivating potential.”

Law felt his irritation spike at that. “Yes, such great potential behind bars in Impel Down,” he retorted with a measure of satisfaction.

Doflamingo growled, predictable in his anger at any slight against the Family. The hand in Law’s hair tightened further then Law cried out as he felt a sharp sting in the meat of his left shoulder. His eyes flew wide, and he jerked back as far as he could with the string still attached to manacles. Breathing heavily, he looked down to see a bloody bite mark.

Furious, he glared at the other man. “What the fuck?”

“A reminder of just who you belong to,” Doflamingo simply replied, teeth bloodied as he smirked.

Law’s stomach turned. Doflamingo, seeming satisfied to have made his point, dropped the string from Law’s bindings. Law retreated to the chair at the table, moving only to clean up the wound when Doflamingo had thrown a towel in his direction.

When Law emerged on the deck, he was relieved to see Penguin and Jean Bart, as well as Smoker, standing by the gangplank, guarded by armed Marines.

“Captain!” Penguin called, relieved, as Law approached. His eyes narrowed as he saw the fresh wound on Law’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Jean Bart asked, having noticed it as well.

Law nodded, refusing to give Doflamingo the satisfaction of acknowledging it. “Fine. You two?”

“We’re good,” Penguin said, and Jean Bart nodded in confirmation.

“As touching as this little reunion is,” Doflamingo drawled, “it’s time to go.”

The Marine guards jerked into motion and grabbed Penguin, Jean Bart, and Smoker, pushing them toward the gangplank. Law and Tashigi followed, with Doflamingo bringing up the rear.

#Caitlin's fic #One Piece fanfiction #One Piece fanfic #Trafalgar Law #Donquixote Doflamingo #Heart Pirates

[fleursowl]

hey guys! some of you may not be able to acces the slytherin! remus fic on ao3 so here it is ♥︎

Remus

Remus Lupin was an unusual boy.

Well, no one bitten by a werewolf at a young age could really be considered ‘normal’ (not that there were a lot of werewolf children- they were usually quietly put down), but Remus’ parents, who were slightly more on the eccentric side, had rather helped contribute to this unusualness.

His father, an extremely academic and bright man, had always tried to squash his ambitions from a young age- Remus didn’t yet understand that he wouldn’t be able to achieve a lot of things others could. Positions in wizarding society were not exactly thrown at werewolves, whether they had excellent grades or not.

However, Remus, a young boy full of hope and wonder for the world despite his hardships, simply did not listen. In fact, this discouragement hardened his want, and he nursed a private longing to become Minister of Magic that no one knew about, except for his mother, of course. His exceptionally kind and caring main confidant, always privately disagreed with Remus’ father.

One day after Remus had run out of the room in tears when Lyall had told him he might not be able to go to Hogwarts, she slipped into his room and sat down next to him on his bed, slipping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into her soft, warm body.

“Why campaign for change, when you can work to put yourself in the position that makes the changes, my little Moonshine? Don’t listen to your father- he’s just worried about you. He’ll see sense and come round soon enough.”

After all, Hope Lupin had high hopes for her son, so much that she decided to forgo sending him to primary and schooled him instead.

She taught him everything she knew, with extra help from Lyall on the wizardry side to help him get ahead on his Hogwarts studies. Hope spent many long nights reading any books around the house she could find, or that Lyall brought back for her on magic and its creatures, so she could teach Remus too.

All in all, Remus was extremely lucky. He had two parents who cared for him massively and would move heaven and high waters for him- which was rare even for normal boys, but add the fact that they had to deal with their only son transforming, against his will, into a werewolf every month and still loved him so much really added to their saintly status in Remus’ mind, especially his mother.

This all resulted in Remus stepping onto Platform 9 3/4 smarter than half of the rest of the first years put together, but without the ability to make friends and very, very sheltered against the outside world. He saw absolutely no shame in sobbing into his mother’s cotton shirt when it came time for him to leave, his father smoothing his hand over his hair soothingly. This resulted in a few sneers from older years, but Remus didn’t notice. And even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared- he was leaving behind his best and only friends.

However, Remus was strong- no one can go through excruciating pain once every month without having thick skin and a hardened heart. He was brimming with excitement at going to Hogwarts, meeting other people like him, and learning even more about this new and unfamiliar world he had just stepped into.

James

James Potter was a very sheltered and privileged boy. Growing up, he had never wanted for anything or had to work for it- it was just given to him. Regardless, Euphemia Potter had ensured that he was still polite, bright and extremely kind- if he was a bit of a prick, well, then he’d grow out of it eventually.

James swanned along the aisle of the train, practically trembling with excitement. His dad had told him countless stories about the amazing friends he’d made at Hogwarts, and James was extremely eager to follow in his footsteps. He spotted a fairly empty compartment with just a small, mousy haired boy sitting in it, and slipped inside, beaming at the boy and offering him his hand so enthusiastically he almost slapped him in the face.

“I’m James Potter, and I’m gunna be in Gryffindor? just like my dad.” he grinned, shaking the other boy’s hand heartily and practically ripping his arm from his socket.

The smaller boy squeaked, wide eyes looking at James in awe.

“I’m Peter- Peter Pettigrew. I… don’t know what house I’ll be in? Maybe, maybe Hufflepuff?” the boy stuttered, eyes widening even more when James scoffed, shaking his head.

“Nah mate, that’s a house for stoners and nancies.” he declared proudly, not knowing what either of these things were, but instead directly quoting his father teasing his mother over dinner. Peter let out a nervous laugh, nodding.

“Well, if you say so. So Gryffindor is the best house, then?” he asked, but before James could reply, another boy glided into the compartment.

“Hear, hear.” the boy drawled, a smirk tugging the corner of his lip. “Gryffindor for the win.”

Peter didn’t respond and had resorted to melting into his seat to get further away from the intimidating newcomer, but James turned to him with a brilliant grin.

“Finally, someone with sense. And you are?”

“Sirius… Sirius Black.” the boy said more shortly, and James felt his smile fall a little. Black. He recognised that name, and it seemed Peter did too, judging from his squeak of terror.

Sirius huffed, eyes darting between the two boys definitely, and he shook his head quickly. “I’m not like the rest of my family. I’m going to be in Gryffindor.” He said firmly, looking at the two other boys and daring them to disagree with him.

“Alright then, that’s good enough for me.” James said, his grin lighting his face up once again.

“James Potter. Soon-to-be Gryffindor. And this is Peter Pettigrew, he’s a bit shy.” James said, nodding at Peter in the corner. Sirius nodded, but before he could respond the boys were yet again disturbed by another. James looked at the newcomer curiously- he’d never seen anyone like him before. The boy was amber-eyed, with dozens of mysterious silver scars littering his exposed skin, a pink one running across the bridge of his nose.

Something about him just caught James’ eye, and as he sat down next to Sirius, James was struck with how similarly striking yet extremely different the boys looked next to each other.

“James?” Sirius prompted with a raised eyebrow, and James realised he had ignored Remus’ introduction while lost in his own thoughts.

“Oh, sorry mate, I’m James Potter.” he said, sticking his hand out. Remus’ hand felt oddly warm and calloused in his cool, soft one.

“What house do you think you’ll be in?” Peter squeaked out, but Sirius interrupted.

“Merlin, anything but Slytherin. I would rather die,” he said harshly, and James laughed.

“Agreed,” he said firmly, and Peter nodded along eagerly, but Remus stayed quiet.

“What’s wrong with Slytherin?” he asked, a frown on his face.

“Cause they’re all… the worst! My dad says every bad witch or wizard ever came from Slytherin.” James cried passionately. Sirius nodded gravely, a sardonic smile on his face.

“Can confirm that- my whole family has been in Slytherin. Patterns are reliable.”

“But- just because all the bad witches and wizards have been in Slytherin, doesn’t mean that every witch and wizard in Slytherin is going to be bad .” Remus reasoned wisely, though a little bewildered. “The house of Slytherin values being ambitious, which I think’s a good thing. I, for one, wanna become the Minister of Magic someday.” He declared proudly, his Welsh accent thick in his passionate speech.

The other boys sat and stared at him in shocked silence, their brains processing this new information. Luckily the trolley witch came knocking on their door before the silence could get awkward, and they spent the rest of the train journey trading stories about their first signs of magic and scoffing chocolate that James had insisted on buying for them all.

Remus

Hogwarts was better than anything Remus could’ve possibly hoped for.

It was better than the photos, the illustrations, the images he had conjured up in his imagination and dreamt about almost every night- it was the pure essence of magic, the very root of the word.

His breath was knocked from his lungs when the castle drew into sight, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes, overcome with emotion.

“Hey, you alright mate?” Peter asked, knocking him with his elbow. Remus wiped his eyes hurriedly with his cloak sleeve, nodding.

“Yeah. I’m fine, just got some wind in my eyes, is all.” Peter gave him a knowing look but said nothing more, which Remus greatly appreciated.

The sorting ceremony was nothing like any of them had ever seen. Remus had never seen so many people, and they were all confined into one glorious, magical place. His palms began to sweat slightly- he had never been a people person, and the thought of standing up in front of them all and taking the long walk to the stool made him want to throw up. He turned to the side and saw that Sirius was wearing a similar expression, and squeezed his hand slightly as his mother did to him to comfort him in public. Sirius jumped and turned to him in surprise, but before he could speak, his name was called by McGonagall, and he turned back to the front, swallowing nervously. Remus watched the pale boy walk shakily up to the stool, and held his breath along with the rest of the hall as he waited. And waited. Sirius’s face was screwed up in concentration as if he was having a conversation- or battle- with his conscience.

Eventually, the hat roared “Gryffindor!” and there was a moment of shocked silence, before James broke it by whooping loudly, clapping jovially, and the rest of the hall joined in. Remus watched Sirius’ expression as he glanced over to the Slytherin table on his way to the Gryffindors, and winced when he heard the jeers and hisses. Hopefully, his sorting wouldn’t be as dramatic.

After what seemed like an eternity, finally Remus’ name was called out. He walked up to the stool with trembling knees and clenched fists, sitting down on it heavily.

‘Oh, hello. It’s not every day I see one of you.’ A disembodied voice spoke, and Remus nearly fell off the chair.

‘Don’t worry, no one else can hear. Your secret is quite safe with me.’ The voice said again, which wasn’t exactly reassuring. Was Remus going mad?

‘Right then, let’s see. A very sharp mind, yes, full of wit and a keenness to learn. But also very kind, and loyal. And in addition to this, brave and daring! My my, you have a strong mind.’

‘Ummmm… thank you?’ Remus thought, a little bewildered.

‘But ah, what’s this? Minister of Magic, you say?’

Remus sat up a little straighter in excitement, nodding eagerly.

‘I’ll do anything to get there.’ he thought eagerly.

‘Well then, that settles it. Has to be…

“Slytherin!” the hat yelled, and Remus hopped off the stool. He wasn’t sure how long he had been on there, but it felt like ages. The Slytherin table eyed him speculatively, then burst into applause, accepting this scrawny, scared little boy into their midst. Remus hurried over gratefully, sitting down next to a girl he had seen on the train with a shy smile.

Eventually, James and Peter were both sorted into Gryffindor, which didn’t come as a surprise, but he was a little disappointed that the people he thought he’d be friends with had ended up in separate houses. Still, friendships could be formed in any circumstances, Remus thought firmly. He sat up a little straighter, craning over the crowd to try and spot them, and waved at James with a smile when he did.

James glanced at him and then looked back at his plate quickly, looking uncomfortable.

Sirius levelled him with a strong gaze, whispering something in James’ ear whilst still retaining eye contact with Remus, and the bespectacled boy snorted into his pumpkin juice, looking back over at Remus again.

Remus looked away with flushed cheeks, slouching in his seat and feeling humiliation and disappointment curdling in his stomach.

‘It doesn’t matter. You aren’t here to make friends, you’re here to learn, to gain knowledge, to gain power. To prove to everyone that you can achieve the impossible.’ Remus thought firmly, and pushed any thoughts of a brilliant friendship to the back of his mind.

It seemed Hogwarts would be a journey that he was going to have to take alone.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #slytherin remus #wolfstar fic #peter pettigrew #marauders #marauders era #marauders fic

[megsironthrone]

Never Wavered

A Wattpad request. I do not own ANY Game of Thrones characters. They belong to George R.R.Martin.

Warnings: A little angst, some fluff. Takes place in seasons 1 and 7.

Pairings/Characters: Jon Snow x fem!Lannister reader, Tyrion, Varys, Daenerys 

You hadn’t wanted to come to Winterfell. You couldn’t stand the thought of being cooped up with Cersei in the wheelhouse for a month. However, your brothers had made it their mission to convince you to join them. Not that it took much. You would do anything for your brothers and they knew it. That was the only reason you were stepping out of the wheelhouse in front of the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

         You greeted them as their station demanded, but your eyes kept flickering back to the dark-eyed young man behind them. You didn’t have to be a genius to know who he was. Everyone knew of Jon Snow, Ned Stark’s one indiscretion in his otherwise honorable life. One look at the young man and you’d swear he was all Stark. Those deep, dark eyes were paired with hair just as dark and the curls he had were similar to his brother Robb’s.

         You flashed Jon a smile as you were ushered away to prepare for the feast that night. That was yet another event you had no desire to go to. Luckily, after you made an appearance, you would most likely be able to sneak away without attracting attention. That’s exactly what you did too. As soon as you had finished eating, you managed to find your way outside and breathed a sigh of relief.

         "I should have known you’d find a way to join us soon or later, Y/N.“ You grinned at the sound of your brother’s voice. "Yes well, you know the parties Robert and Cersei life don’t suit my fancy.” You turned your eyes to Jon. He grew uncomfortable under your gaze after a moment. You looked back to Tyrion. “Please tell me you have wine.” Tyrion chuckled and handed his wineskin to you. “Thank you.” Jon was quiet, but his eyes never left you.

         "Are you nervous, Jon Snow?“ you asked as you took a swig of your brother’s wine. Jon shook his head. "No, my lady. It’s just…you shouldn’t be out here with me. You should be inside with the rest of your family and the Starks.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, Y/N will do. I only use my title when I need something desperately. Besides, maybe I’d like to stay out here with you and Tyrion. Join us for a drink, Snow.” Jon looked reluctant at first, but nodded slowly.

         You spent the rest of the evening with the two men, drinking and talking. Jon grew more talkative as he drank, but he never got drunk, not like Tyrion. Tyrion ended up passing out, leaving you and Jon to stay and get to know one another. You found that you really like the young man. He was loyal and honorable and sometimes funny. He had very little pride in himself though. He believed the only way he was worth anything was to join the Night’s Watch.

         Spending time with Jon became your favorite part of being in Winterfell. And you spent a lot of time with him. You just couldn’t seem to help it. Tyrion, of course, encouraged it. He had a fondness for bastards, cripples, and broken things. Over the course of your stay, Jon seemed to open up more too and you found yourself enjoying his company much more than anyone else’s. Your affection for him grew by the day, so when the day came for you to leave, you were heartbroken.

         "I hope to see you again one day, Jon. I know it isn’t likely since you’ll be going to the Wall, but perhaps I could write now and again,“ you told him. He gave you a small smile. "I’d like that.” The two of you stood there staring at each other for a moment until someone cleared their throat. “Are we ready?” Tyrion asked.

         Jon nodded and, after Tyrion walked away, he leaned in and  kissed your cheek. “Goodbye, my lady.” You were grateful no one else was around to see that or you might have melted as you whispered goodbye. You couldn’t stop your tears, however, as you climbed into the wheelhouse with your sister. You had no idea if you’d ever see Jon again. You only hoped the gods were on your side.

*many years later*

         Your heart skipped a beat when you heard his name. You stood next to Daenerys as Varys finished reading the letter. “Signed, Jon Snow, King in the North.” You had to fight back a gasp. Jon was alive and he was coming to Dragonstone! You could have jumped for joy.

         It had been years since you last saw him. Many people had come and gone from your life in that time, but you’d never felt as close to them as you had to Jon. In all this time, your affections for him never lessened much to your surprise. You had expected your feelings to fade but they had only grown stronger as was evident by how your heart lurched whenever his name was mentioned.

         "What do you know about this Jon Snow?“ Daenerys asked Tyrion. Tyrion’s eyes shifted to you for a moment before he answered her. You tuned out what he was saying since you couldn’t stop thinking about Jon. "And you, Lady Y/N? What is your impression of Jon Snow?” You jumped at the sound of your name. You bit your lip, trying to find the right words.

         "My sister is in love with him and has been for years.“ You hissed his name in warning while Daenerys watched on in amusement. "I see. And does he return your affections?” Your brows furrowed. You had no idea. Neither of you had admitted to any feelings the last you saw him. What if he didn’t love you? Or worse, what if he did but when he did arrive in Dragonstone he fell for Daenerys’ charms? Men seemed to fall in love with her at the drop of a hat. Only time would tell.

         You were on pins and needles a few weeks later when it was announced that Jon had finally sailed in. You waited in Daenerys’ throne room with the Dragon Queen and your brother. It was deadly quiet and you had to stifle a gasp when you saw Jon. He looked the same and yet completely different. Gone were the boyish looks and, in their place, the ruggedness of a man who had seen and heard too much. His dark locks were pulled back to get them out of his face, which had a couple of scars added to it. His eyes were the same though and when they met yours, it was if time stood still.

         While introductions were made, you and Jon simply stared at one another, speechless. Everything you had been feeling for him was magnified when you set eyes on him. Your heart picked up speed and you found it difficult to breathe without sighing his name. You missed the looks Daenerys kept giving you and Jon and you had to praise Jon for his ability to hold a conversation during this moment. Maybe he wasn’t as affected as you.

         After what seemed like an eternity, Daenerys finally left the room with Tyrion and Varys at her side. That left you, Jon, and the older gentleman that was introduced as Ser Davos. The latter cleared his throat and mumbled something about letting the crew know they’d be staying for a while as he shuffled from the room. It was just you and Jon now.

         "Y/N,“ he whispered at the same time you said his name. You laughed softly as he smiled at you. "I’ve missed you, Jon. There’s so much I need to tell you.” You took a step closer to him, hand outstretched. You heart had yet to calm and it only pounded more violently as Jon took your hand in his. You swore he could hear it as his dark eyes pierced your (e/c) ones.

         "I missed you too, Y/N.“ You beamed and moved to take his arm. "Then we must catch up!” You practically dragged him from the room and toward your own chambers where you spent the rest of the night and well into the morning talking. “They really did that to you? For doing what you thought was right?” you asked. Jon nodded solemnly. You could tell it was hard for him to talk about his “death” and you mentally made a note to thank the Red Woman for bringing him back to you.

         "You know, it was thinking of you that kept me going when I wanted to quit,“ he admitted softly, "There were times when Alliser Thorne was so harsh and, when I wasn’t picked to be a Ranger, and when Father died that I wanted to leave and never go back. But I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want to change your opinion of me.”

         "Jon, nothing could change my opinion of you. I love you too much and for too long to let that happen.“ You didn’t even realize what you’d said until Jon’s mouth dropped open. "What?” you asked. “You said you love me,” he replied softly. You stiffened. You had, hadn’t you? “I-I,” you started, trying to think of a way to save yourself from further embarrassment.

         Jon’s hand came to rest on top of yours and he moved to sit beside you. “I love you too, Y/N. I have since the day you bested Theon in archery. I will never forget the look of pure surprise on your face even though you were the one to challenge him. You looked so beautiful and I knew I would love you forever.” You giggled slightly at the memory as you leaned over to rest your head on Jon’s shoulder. You stayed that way, swapping memories and stories until you drifted off to couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Jon was with you and you felt safe, happy, and most importantly, loved.

 (a/n: Once again, I’d like to be able to find good Jon gifs WITHOUT Dany too. Kinda ruins the whole reader insert vibe sometimes. I’d make them if I knew how XD. Anyway, I hope you lovelies like it!)

@brewsthespirit-blog @ghostie-writes @line-viper @etherealpotter @littlemisscaptainfandom @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart

#george r.r.martin #game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon x reader

[rosewould]

ᴋʀʏᴘᴛᴏɴɪᴛᴇ || Bang Chan & Jeong Yunho

masterlist chapter two

𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥,

★ 𝔹𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕪 ★:

death of a loved one

grief

discretion is advised

a  m o n t h  a g o

"Gyuri, what who was that?" Heejin peered over Gyuri's shoulder at her phone.

"I-It was Yunho. It's nothing, don't worry about it.

Heejin rested her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Yeah right, I can hear it in your voice. What happened."

Gyuri went pale. Heejin was an adult now. She should know about these things, right? She was definitely not going to tell her that.

"They... they found a body in the park."

• a day later •

Chan peered over at Yunho who was fidgeting with his hands on the locker room bench. His eyes were trained on seemingly nothing.

"I'm sorry that you had to witness something like that so early in your career."

"That... her life was just starting man! How could someone kill someone so young?! I heard she was accepted into an ivy league school." His eyes were wide, his mind was putting all of the pieces together for the first time.

"God- I don't want to think about this right now." He hands flew to his head, clutching his chocolate locks. He clenched his eyes shut. Chan paced towards him and rested his hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't, so maybe stop. It'll make your job a thousand times easier." He patted his shoulder twice before walking towards the exit.

"You're making it sound so easy."

"I told you to prepare yourself for this job, didn't I?" Chan turned to look at Yunho, his elder brother mode turned on. Yunho pushes himself up from his seat.

"But weren't you also the person who told me heinous crimes like that haven't happened around here for almost two decades? And not to worry too much about it? So sorry for being shocked and trying to vent." Yunho plopped back down onto the bench, pulling his uniform shirt fully on.

Chan decided to leave it there. Mostly because he didn't have any rebuttals for that. He wouldn't admit that, though.

"Before I leave, how did Gyuri react? I didn't see her yesterday."

"Great. Another thing I'm stressing about. She completely freaked out. The girl who died reminded her too much of Heejin. It's been really hard because Heejin just turned 18 so she wants her freedom but then that happened. Gyuri is hovering over her constantly and Heejin hates it."

Chan sat there for a moment. That's really unlike Gyuri. Maybe he'd check up on her.

"Just a heads up, I'm dropping by tomorrow."

• tomorrow •

"I'm running a little late but you wanna come with, mom?" Chan buttoned up his shirt as he asked.

"No I'm fine honey-" She was interrupted by her phone ringing.

"Oh look! That's Yunho now!" She picked the phone up eagerly.

"Yunho! H- wait, slow down. Yeah he's right here. What's wrong? Yunho... honey are you crying?"

Chan watched in confusion as his mother's clamped over her mouth.

"Oh god no, please no." Her voice quivered as she dropped the phone.

"My baby! Not my baby!" She slid off the couch, sobbing into her hand.

p r e s e n t  d a y

The houses in the town were so damn cute to you. All quaint and small. Chan's was a bit fancier and bigger, being a hotshot policeman and all.

"Out with it. You're here for something, what is it?"

"My papa's hat. He dropped it at the crime scene like an idiot. He takes a break for a couple years and makes a rookie mistake, what a dumbass. His DNA is all over it. You're gonna help me find it."

"Why me?" Chan looked annoyed, not threatened or frightened in the slightest. This in turn made you annoyed.

"You're real brave, huh detective? Didn't girly tell you about the things I'm capable of?"

"Stop dancing around the subject and answer my question!"

"The answer to your question is the same reason you shouldn't be so smug. You're very valuable to not only your police people but everyone around here. We get you, we get everyone. Also, you've got the most to lose. Just how many people in this neighborhood alone are you close to? Family? Childhood friends?"

Chan couldn't lie, he was feeling a bit more cautious. He couldn't feel scared by you, though. He just felt revolted and a strong hatred for you. The things you've done are unspeakable, and one of the people were close to him. Chan laughed before whipping out his gun.

"You're just as much of a dumbass as your "papa". You follow a policeman into his home and threaten him?" He cocks the pistol, eyes boring into the female.

"Go ahead! Shoot me! Just know if you miss you'll regret it. It'll be messy just like the other two."

Chan was angry but hesitant. He was confident in his aim, but he didn't know how good you were at dodging. Plus you were a good distance away. The noise would rile up the neighborhood. His boss had told him time and time again about how the last thing he wanted was to worry the citizens. That's why he didn't release the eyewitness report (against everyone else's opinion).

So when you reached for your purse, he didn't shoot.

"Look, I have a gun too."

Chan tensed up, keeping his gun aimed at you.

"Don't worry pretty boy," you place the gun on the ground and slide it towards him with your foot.

"No funny business, I swear. I'm not here to do any harm. Just get me the hat and I'll be on my way."

Chan didn't believe you for one second. For now, however, the best thing to do would be to lower the gun. So he did.

His ear began to ring, everything seemed to be going in slow motion as he set the gun on the table. He felt like he made a mistake. Did you best him? Did he let his guard down too easily? He thought so.

He raised the gun back up at you.

"Put both your hands in the air and walk towards me slowly."

You stood there shocked for a brief moment. Your expression melted into a sly grin as you raised up your hands. You did as he said, planting yourself firmly three feet away from him. He rustled through your bag to discover a dart gun and hunting knife.

"Is hunting a crime?" You smirked.

He almost replied with "hunting humans is" but then it reminded him who exactly he was dealing with. The crime scenes flooded back into his mind and he grimaced.

"Come on, nothing? I think that was pretty funny-"

"What was the tranquilizer gun for?" He asked, setting down the knife to pick up the gun. He looked down at it in his hands, turning it, inspecting the weapon.

"...I thought it'd be obvious. You were meant to be in my trunk by tonight, unconscious obviously. I was really betting on your cop-like good will to come through and trust me. They train you better than I thought.”

Rage flooded through Chan's veins as he thought about how cruel and disgusting you were. You noticed how he looked at you.

The proximity was perfect now.

"It's not lethal, geez-"

-Was he needed to hear before pointing the tranquilizer gun at you.

"You don't want to do that."

Chan hated to admit that he enjoyed the panicked look on your face.

"How does it feel, being prey now?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he pulled the trigger. The dart punctured your neck. You grab the dart and remove it but it's too late. Your legs are weak, vision doubled. You try to get close to Chan but he just backs away, giving you the room you need to fall to the ground.

It was painfully obvious Yunho was concerned.

"Yunho, you're looking at me like that again." Gyuri chuckled, eyes crinkling. She picked at the food on her olive-colored ceramic plate. She didn't want to look at him.

"I don't believe that you're okay. This act you're putting up is only making me and everyone around us worried."

Gyuri looked up at him, he hadn't touched his food either. The yellow light omitting from the aged glass chandelier washed out Yunho's complexion. It made his disapproving look even harder to look at.

"Look, it's been a month now. I love Heejin with all my being-" Gyuri started to get choked up. She tilted her head back, trying to blink her tears away. The tears ended up streaming down her cheeks anyway. She quickly wiped them away before resuming,

"but I'm pretty she nor anyone else would want anyone to dwell on this. I don't like the way my heart aches when I do. Being happy is just so much easier than feeling that way. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Because you're not actually happy. Gyuri, this is not going to be easy. It's going to be a painful, long, excruciating experience." Yunho looked Gyuri dead in her eyes as he attempted to rip off the bandaid.

Gyuri couldn't contain it anymore. She began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Why? I didn't want to think about that goddammit!" She banged her fists on the table, shaking both their plates.

"I feel like I'm gonna die without her! It hurts so bad and I just want it to end!" Gyuri broke down, hiccuping and clenching her fists tightly. Yunho stood from his seat and kneeled next to Gyuri. He rested his hands on her fists.

"It will end on its own. I want you to know that I'll be right there with you every step of the way. We'll get through this together."

Gyuri engulfed him in her arms, sobbing into his shoulder. Yunho held her back tenderly.

He stayed there with her for what felt like an eternity. He didn't feel troubled in anyway, in fact he felt empowered that he had the ability to help her through this.

Her sobs dissipated into lone hiccups here and there.

"Come on. Let's call it a night, baby." He rubbed circles into her back.

#kryptonite #mafia au #kpop mafia au #mafia #kpop #stray kids #skz #ateez #smut #chan #skz chan #chan skz #bang chan #yunho #jeong yunho #jung yunho #ateez yunho #yunho ateez

[the-colony-roleplay]

HIATUSES, NEW FACES, SELF LOVE AND IN VERSE DETAILS!

Hey Kids!

So, first things first! A very warm welcome to the newest face on the dash, and a congratulations to Maddie!

I would like to take a moment to thank her for the patience and commitment she showed in picking up a 6th character. This was not taken lightly by any means, and there was essentially a multiple step application process that she initiated herself. 

I think it’s important to note that as admins, we don’t see having 1 or 2 or 6 characters as being more or less of an accomplishment. The accomplishment is what you do with them, and the commitment you show to them. Everyone has different availability and preferences. As admins, what’s important to us is reliability, communication (my favourite word!) and patient consideration. So hat’s off to Maddie for her amazing ability to multitask, and for her commitment to making sure taking on another character was the right choice for her. Besides, at this point, she actually has a better activity and para record than even myself, so how could I say no? lol.

Additionally, I’d like to offer one more little nod of gratitude to her for the realization that she now plays five canon bios, three of them in important positions that really help out the plot of the RP. Talk about serving your community, eh? (Yes, I’m Canadian, shut up.)  So everyone give her high fives and hugs, and then give yourselves high fives and hugs because literally every single one of you contribute so so much to this place and it would not be what it is without you and I’m so eternally grateful <3. GROUP HUG OKAY!!

Okay, next up! A warm welcome back to our members returning from hiatus!! As you’ll see, Erin is back on the dash with her boy, and the last day of Nicola’s semi-hiatus is today, so she’ll be back officially by tomorrow! She’s already been on the dash a bit this week, but we’re excited to have her back full swing! Ellie is also hitting the dash a little early, which is grand! Though technically she’s still on hiatus until the 15th.

Finally, concerning Zach and Rhys’ bios, you can assume they have both transferred out of Colony 22. Though we don’t want to get too specific since they aren’t our bios so it’s not exactly our call to make, you might speculate that it was the NWRF’s doing. Perhaps Zach said the wrong thing to the wrong people —perhaps Rhys, as an Infected Elite, was replaced by someone the NWRF felt they could more easily control. Either way, the details are probably equally as unclear to the characters in verse. 

As mentioned, Clove, Mink and Quinn are all still around the Colony, as NPCs currently, and we’ll let you know if that changes!

The last thing I wanted to say is thank you—to everyone who has showed so much love and support during this time to myself, their fellow members and to the ones we’ve had to say goodbye to. Thank you for being kind, understanding and warm. You are all some of the best people I’ve ever had the pleasure of writing with <3<3

 Okay, that’s all for now folks! 

*smooches* 

xxMod!Ro

#col22admin

[petitprincess1]

My Heroic AU (Now With OCs)

Warning: Long(er) Post!

I’m back at it again with another thing explaining my Heroic Au. Figured that I should probably explain some of my OCs (even though the main four are technically OCs too, but shush). So, for those who are interested, click here to read my first post (for those who read it, now they got heights and ages) about my AU. I would say you don’t have to read that one, but it helps to get a gist of things. But if you dont want to, here’s the main idea:

Central/Main Idea: Mine are more on the chaotic good side of things than lawful because I find it more fun and they kind of explore the whole “if villains can kill and destroy and people just accept it, why can’t a hero do the same, especially when justified and with a corrupt justice system?” Basically, whenever a hero does anything like kill or destroy, no matter the reason, they are automatically seen as corrupt or they have a dying need to be stopped, even more so than villains. My Heroic characters basically exist to prove such a thought wrong…even if they aren’t the most mentally balanced people.

Also, I will be using imaged from others that I have commissioned/requested, while also tagging them. If they do not wish for me to use their drawings, then that is perfectly fine

Sayua Kobayashi/Cross-Boa (created by @little-geecko) Age: 34-35 Height: ~7 foot at full height, but can be about 6 foot 8 Job: Hero for hire/Archer Species: Naga (even though she doesn’t know how to shape-shift) Background: Very little is known about Sayua’s past, due to her being found as a baby in the middle of the forest…and her not willing to tell anyone about her background. Her parents, who were elders, often taught her to stay within the wilderness and often keep moving, due to them being nomads. They also taught her how to live off the land, how to defend herself, teaching her archery and how to create/fix her own weapons.

Her parents ended up dying, due to natural causes, when Sayua was 19, forcing her to live on her own. She didn’t really bother moving from where they last had made shelter, since it was in a pretty well-protected and bountiful. And because she didn’t want to leave her adoptive parents’ graves. Everything was pretty calm as she did whatever she could to take care of herself, until a year or two later someone had ransacked her place and her parents’ graves were dug up.

Sayua was able to track them down easily to a small town and had gathered information from people (who she snapped at few times from them taking too long to answer her) from where the thief seemed to be located. When she found them, it seemed like she had found them also having an illegal pawning business where they basically stole whatever they could from people, sell it off, and run before cops are notified. Needless to say, she was going to give them hell for disrupting her peace and interrupting her parents’ eternal peace.When she came out with a few wounds, bruises and only a fractured arm, as well as the criminals being taken away, Sayua was approached by a man with a white top hat that was very interested in her deed. Personality: She’s a very strong-willed woman with a fiery temper, while also taking absolutely no shit from anyone. if you ever tell her that her short temper and snappy behavior is from being alone in a forest for so many years, she’ll tell you it’s not, while also holding a sickle to your throat. Despite her behavior, she also is a natural leader and will often take the lead or make the first move. 

She also tends to be very indifferent to what your status is and what you have down. So, it’s pretty hard to intimidate her, but she does have her limits. just hardly ever shows them. Don’t expect her to be terrified of people like Demencia or Flug because the moment they breathe to even say one sentence, Sayua will yell, “HOLY SHIT! JUST KILL ME ALREADY!” …She’s impatient.

Despite all these “negatives”, she does have a soft spot that she shows from time-to-time and will often try to inspire younger heroes to work harder to be their best. …Does telling people that they will die if they don’t man up count as inspiration? Also, she may or may not be asexual. She just says that she would rather not figure out how snakes have sex. That and Lucius doesn’t make it any better with all the sex jokes he makes.

~~~

Lucius Wickes/Heartbreaker/Reaper (created by @skribblie) Age: 25 Height: 5 foot 8 Job: Hero for hire/Womanizer Species: Incubus Background: Lucius did live a pretty normal-ish life with his dad being a former demon from Hell that was one of Satan’s warriors, banishing all those that dare get in his way, and his mom being an accountant. He was raised and born in New Orleans, where his dad retired and met his mom. Lucius also met his ex-fiancee, Maria (yes, I know that Metauro’s ex-wife is named Maria. I made these backgrounds a long time ago…I am not changing anything). The two hit it off very quickly, due to Maria being immune to his passive infatuation ability and being more into just him, which he found absolutely incredible. He hadn’t really met anyone that wasn’t into him for simply being an incubus. Plus, Maria was also really into the supernatural, so that was something that put him at ease.

The two ended up leaving out of New Orleans to a smaller town that wasn’t even really on the map. Maria wanted to go there because she had always wanted to live a small, simple life and Lucius wanted to go there to propose. Unfortunately, neither got what they wanted.

Lucius refuses to say what all exactly happened, being vague on purpose to seem guiltier, except that her death was on his hands and that Maria’s last words were: “It’s not your fault.” …A man with a white hat also found him covered in blood, in the middle of a city that was littered with bodies, and had a thousand mile stare in his eyes. The only thing that made him snap out of it was of the man promising that he will make him atone for his sins. Personality: Lucius is a quick-witted smartass that really knows how to and when to get on somebody’s nerves. He has an extreme ego and isn’t afraid to boast about his best qualities He always looks for any opportunity to make an explicit joke or even to seduce someone. He will fervently deny that it’s some kind of self-medication and just say that it’s the price of being a demon. He also loves to play around or mess with people in any way that he can, even if it means that they may want to punch or kill him afterwards.

He’s the kind of guy that likes to cheat death or toe the line of danger, whatever gets his adrenaline pumping and unleashes a bit of the sleeping hellish beast within him. Whether that be through sex or even a bit murder, he’s all up for it. His preferred weapon is a hatchet or an axe.

Lucius can also barely control his demonic side and often keeps it under wraps. The only time he uses it is when in an emergency or when they both have a common end goal, which rarely happens. White Hat must be present when his demon side is let loose or else he’ll lose control fairly quickly and go on a rampage.

Lucius also often attends bars and even will be a bartender or even put on a show for the people. Anyone of any gender or configuartion loves him and loves them for helping him forget how much he hates himself.

~~~

Mari Belmont/The Marionettist (created by a friend and @redmoondragon-art) Age: 16 Height: 5 foot Job: Assassin for hire/Student Background: Mari was born without any powers or anything really all that unique. However, her father was researching a way to genetically engineer a hero. He didn’t really have any other test subjects, but Mari, who was 5 years old at the time, had volunteered to help him. Mari’s mom was against her helping her father, but after a long argument, she realized that she wasn’t going to win. So, she just only wished for her to be closely monitored and safe. There isn’t much to her background, since she’s so young, but the process to become what she is now was very long and grueling. She often remembers times waking up in the middle of the night in her test tube, almost drowning. Personality: Despite her age, Mari often is the mother of any group that she’s a part of. Always making sure that everyone is ready and taken care. She also had taken dancing and aerial silks lessons when she was around 10. It was just something that she always found interesting and graceful. Mari also loves any activity that requires any bit of creativity or using her hands.

Her powers also allows her use her strings like a tightrope, aerial silks (without even hurting herself), and that she can swing on. Not only that, but she also can use them to control peoples’ minds and make them like her puppet, which she often just makes them kill themselves with whatever is nearby. 

She also is extremely playful and hyperactive. She will also defend the actions of her parents, especially to those that dare pretend they know better. She also attends White Hat hero academy whenever she has free-time. ..What do you mean you have to register?

~~~

Panna “Pan” Ward/Pandora (created by @lightpudding) Age: 10-12 Height: 4 foot 4 Job: Freelance hero Background: Pan was very sick when she was born, an illness that attacked at her throat. Luckily, she was saved, but it cost her her vocal chords, rendering her mute, excluding a few small, quiet noises. Her parents were pretty kept in the shadows, even keeping some of their life away from Pan. All that is known that they were into the dark magic and even, rumored, satanism.However, they made sure that Pan was given as much care and love that she deserved, even home-schooling her and teaching her a bit of sign language.

Unfortunately. Pan only knew her parents for 9 years, due to a random attack that happened in her house. She had no idea what was happening because her parents hid her away in a closet. When everything had quieted down, she found her house completely in ruins and her parents dead bodies. She also found a jack-in-the-box near their bodies that was latched shut with a note, reading, “Take this and defend yourself. You’re the new Pandora.”

Pan wasn’t afraid of the demons that lurked within, especially if it meant that they could help avenge her parents’ death.  Personality: Pandora makes sure that everyone is okay before herself. It can even just be a random villain that she’s fighting. She’ll always come up to them with a small first-aid kit that she keeps in her box and makes sure they’re okay to go home. Although, a bandaid in a large, gaping hole in someone’s stomach may not help all that much. They still appreciate it though.

Her favorite demon in the toy box is a large creature that has hundreds of eyes all over his body, gnashing mouths, large, skin-tearing claws, and deep, timber voice that shakes the very ground. He has caused many deaths, made Satan himself even tremble in fear, created many widows, and has devastated thousands of armies. …Pan named him Lord Fluffybottom. He takes that name with great pride.

Pandora loves learning anything new and often will not ask for help, even if she’s too short to reach for something or has a hard time understanding. Pan also realizes that she is pretty much useless without her jack-in-the-box, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to help or fight, even if her hits amount to nothing. Luckily, not many people are willing to fight a defenseless child, even if she does take that as an insult.

Pan created the dress herself as a way to remember her parents, since it’s made from several pieces of fabric from their and her clothes. Not only that, but she doesn’t live in one place for too long and often moves from place-to-place. ~~~ I have more OCs, but they don’t have images and this going on for a bit long. I may make a part two. I hope that you guys like them and sorry if their stories may be edgy.

#villainous #villainous fic #villainous oc #villainous ocs #villainous au #heroic au #heroic #villainos #villanos #vilainos #vilanos #writing #my writing #white hat #clemencia #dr slug #slug #black hat #demencia #flug #writers on tumblr #my heroic au

[minijenn]

Breaking the News and Her Heart

A sequel to The Worst Possible Time

If there was one thing that Mabel Pine was known for, other than her eccentric personality, it was her positivity.  Normally, when a person tries to stay positive for a long period of time, it usually ends with them just being drained out and reverting back to whatever neutral mood they were in.  This was not the case with Mabel Pines.  For some unexplainable reason, it seemed like the girl had an unlimited well of positivity that she could tap into at the drop of a hat.  Not just that, but it was also highly contagious, so she always produced this aura that made most people around look more on the bright side.  Of course, Mabel had her somber moments, or there were times she had to be serious for the appropriate situation.  However, these moments usually didn’t last very long and before anyone knew it, she would be back to her old optimistic self again.   There were a lot of constants in the universe, and Mabel’s endless positivity was just one of them.

It was a skill that was especially useful during these trying times.  For the first few days after she and Steven had barely escaped Homeworld, Mabel was absolutely devastated when Dipper didn’t return with them.  It was almost to the point where her famous unending positivity was at risk of permanently fade away.  However, things changed when Dipper did miraculously return to Gravity Falls, only as someone completely different.  Stonemason had caused endless havoc to the small Oregon town in his quest to essentially kill Dipper, but Mabel saw it in a different light.  After the initial shock had passed, it was like a fire was ignited in her soul.  She had just found out that her twin brother was alive.  He was under some kind of mind-control albeit, but he was still alive.  From that point, Mabel’s positivity returned as she was determined to find some way to bring her brother back.  No matter how long it took or how much effort it took to snap Dipper out of it, the girl was on a mission.  This determination spread to Steven, Connie, the Gems, Stan and everyone as the quest to rescue Dipper had begun, with Mabel in the lead.

That was exactly what Mabel was doing that afternoon as she and Steven wandered around the lake.  Mabel had convinced the young Gem help her scout the town to see if they could find where Stonemason was holed up.  Her hopes were that maybe if they could catch the assassin off-guard it would give them a better chance to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.  Steven happily agreed to come along with the girl today, mostly to provide some protection incase things got violent.  They decided to spend the day searching the lake first, but they couldn’t find Dipper anywhere near the lake.  While this was somewhat disheartening, Mabel knew that there was always tomorrow to search again.  The pair were about to head into town when Amethyst suddenly showed up to tell them that they were needed at the Shack immediately.  Mabel could have sworn that Amethyst seemed more distant than usual, but the purple Gem retreated back to the Shack before they could ask further question.  With no other reason to not accept the Gem’s request, Steven and Mabel innocently made their way to the Mystery Shack to see what was going on.  Unfortunately, both of them were unaware of the earth-shattering news that they were about to receive.

As the two kids made it back to the Shack, Steven slowed down as he began to ponder more about what exactly what was going on.  “Mabel,” he asked Mabel.  “Why do you think Amethyst called us here?  She seemed a little bit…off.  Like she was distant or something?”  The girl turned around to look her best friend and saw the worry in his eyes.  She gave him a simple smile and did her best to reassure him.  “Steven, don’t worry too much, okay?  Grunkle Stan probably just wants to talk to me about how I’ve been pushing myself lately with finding Dipper.  But never worry!  I know exactly what to say to reassure him and before you know it, we’ll back to saving my bro-bro again!”  Steven could help but smile at the girl’s enthusiasm as he gave a determined nod.  The two kids finally went inside the Shack to see what Stan had exactly wanted with them.

Mabel was admittedly surprise when she saw that not only Stan was in the living room, but Ford and the Gems as well.  What was even weirder was that they had looks that seemed rather odd to the girl.  Garnet’s expression was stoic and stern, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for the Gem leader.  Amethyst was just like she was at the lake, looking downtrodden and avoiding eye contact.  Pearl was looking at Mabel, although it was a look of worry and concern.  Ford was the most peculiar, he had on a neutral look, but Mabel could have sworn she saw tear stains around his eyes.  And finally there was Stan, who just looked tired in general, but gave the girl a small smile.  With everyone in the room looking so serious, Mabel realized that this was a bigger problem than he thought.  It looked like she would have to put on the “Mabel charm” to put everyone at ease.  Meanwhile, Steven saw everyone in the room and realized something was very wrong.

“Uh, heya pumpkin, how’s it going?” Stan said trying his best to break the tension in the room.  “Heard you’ve looking real hard for Dipper, right?”  Mabel put on a proud smile and put her hands to her hips.  “Yep,” she said enthusiastically.  “Been looking high and low for him around the lake.  Don’t worry though, I dragged Steven along just in case Stonemason gets all crazy!”  Steven gave a small nod to confirm this.  “Have you…found anything yet?”  Ford asked carefully.  Mabel’s smile faltered a little bit, but her voice was still full of enthusiasm and confidence.  “Not yet, Grunkle Ford.  But there’s always tomorrow!  Dipper would never give up on me, so I plan on never giving up on him!”  Mabel’s rather optimistic thought was interrupted by a disgruntled groan from Amethyst.  “Can we just tell her alright?  The suspense is killing-“

“Amethyst!” Pearl quickly hushed the purple Gem.  “We need to be delicate with this.”  Now Steven was really worried right now.  The only times that the Gems acted so hesitantly about something was when something disastrous happened.  “Guys,” the young Gem asked.  “Is there something going on with you guys?  You all look…really worried all the sudden.  I know you guys are still worried about Dipper, but it looks like there’s something else going on.”  Garnet placed a steady hand on Stan’s shoulder and gave him a firm nod.  The conman understood the silent message and let out a heavy sigh.  “Mabel,” he said, staring directly into his niece’s eyes.  “There’s some that we need to talk with you about.”  The conman had worked himself up for this moment, and he wasn’t planning on backing out now.  It was time to rip the bandage off.

However, before the conman could speak up, Mabel put up a hand to Stan’s face.  “Hold that thought for one second, Grunkle Stan,” the girl stated in a matter-of-fact tone.  “I know what you’re going to say.  You, Grunkle Ford and the Gems are all worried that I maybe pushing myself a little too hard with finding Dipper.  Well, don’t you worry about me, because I feel fantastic!  Sure, I’ve spent less time eating and sleeping since I’ve been busy with trying to figure out how to save Dipper, but I’ve been keeping myself loaded on sugar packets and Mabel Juice, so I’m always full of energy!”  To prove her point, Mabel started to twirl around a few times to demonstrate her excess energy.  Stan cringed at his niece’s antics, almost hurting him on how oblivious the girl was about what was really going on.  “Mabel…” he said, trying to get the girl to be serious but ultimately failing.  “Yep, big ball of energy, I am!  Sure, I have one or two major crashes and random time intervals, but it rarely happens!  It’s all gonna be worth it when we save Dipper from whatever mind junk that mean Yellow Diamond put him under.  Then me, him, Steven and Connie can all have our summer back again!  It’ll be just like the old days, solving mysteries and all that!  It’ll be awesome!  Sure, me and Dipper will have to go back home again soon, but there’s always next summer too!”  The situation was becoming worse and worse by the minute.  Pearl was about to speak up but was stopped by Garnet.  The Gem leader shook her head at her comrade, implying that this was something Stan had to do himself.  Meanwhile, the conman was getting frustrated by this, so he attempted to take a more direct route instead.  “Mabel…you’re parents….they’re…” Stan tried his hardest to say, but was interrupted once again.  “Oh, Mom and Dad?  Yeah, I guess it’ll be kinda hard to explain Dipper’s…new arm when we get back to California, but it won’t change anything!  Mom and Dad will still love Dipper for the lovable dork that he is!  It might take some time to adjust, but I know Mom and Dad will be patient and supportive.  They’re some of the greatest parents around, and it’ll be nice to have Mom’s cookies, listen to Dad’s terrible jokes and just be there for each other like a big, happy famil-“

“MABEL!” Stan grabbed both of Mabel’s shoulders and looked at her straight in the eyes.  “Your mom and dad passed away last night.”  

At that single sentence, Mabel’s mind went completely blank.  It was as if all of air, color and sound in the room, leaving the girl in a cold, empty void for what seemed like five minutes.  Pure shock was all able to be expressed on her face.  Her mind kept repeating that sentence over and over again, desperately trying to see if she misheard her grunkle..  But alas, there was no mistaking it, she heard what she heard.  As for Steven, his shock was almost as big and Mabel’s.  The young just believe that his best friend’s parent…just passed away.  After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Mabel finally found the ability to speak again.  “W-W-What…What do mean they…passed away.

The difficulty of the conversation was starting to get to Stan, as he backed away from his niece and couldn’t even look at her.  Thankfully, Ford decided that it was his turn to talk to Mabel about this horrible situation.  The scientist took a knee in front of his niece, gently looking into her eyes.  “Mabel,” he slowly began.  “Your mother and father died in a car accident last night.  Your parents were on their way home from an outing when…a truck driver who was completely intoxicated crashed into the side of their car.  They died on impact, there was nothing the paramedics could do.  I…can’t express how sorry I am.”  As Mabel heard the tales of how her loving parents met their untimely end, tears began to naturally well up in her eyes.  Her mind was still finding hard to grasp the cold reality she was in right now.  “No….no that’s not possible!  My parents would never be so reckless!  You’re lying!  You’re all just LYING!”  Mabel’s voice went from somber to outrage, as if she was angered that her family and friends would even try to trick her like this.

“Mabel, we’re telling you the truth!  Why would we make you think your parents are dead?” Amethyst sharply said, trying to snap the girl out of her denial.  The tears finally broke pass the eyes and were now streaming down Mabel’s cheeks.  She couldn’t deny that the purple Gem had a point.  Whether Mabel wanted to believe it or not, Stan was telling her the truth.  Her parents were dead and now she was officially an orphan.  As she came to terms with this thought, Mabel began to break down into tears.  No one in the room knew exactly how to comfort the sobbing girl, but the white Gem decided to at least try.

“Mabel,” Pearl said she approached the poor girl.  “I know you must be devastated right now.”  The white Gem slowly extended her hand to gently wipe away the tears.  “In my many years on this planet, I’ve lost many of my comrades.  So, I know that you must have a sort of…empty feeling in your heart.  But please believe me when I say that it will get easier with time and patience.  Just know that-“  Pearl was interrupted when Mabel suddenly pushed Pearl’s hand away from her.  “Easier?  EASIER?!  My parents are dead!  How am I ever going to get over that, Pearl?!  Do you have any idea what this means?!”  The girl paused to see if anyone in the room would dare to take a guess at what she was referring to, but there was complete silence.  “I just lost my twin brother and now I find out that my parents are gone.  Why is all of this happening to me?  Did I do something so terrible that I deserve all of this?!  Why is my family suddenly being taken away from me?!  WHY DOES THE UNIVERSE WANT ME TO BE ALONE!?”

Before Stan could say anything to comfort his niece, Mabel rushed out the door, heading to parts unknown.  The living room was left in an awkward and somber silence as no one in the room knew exactly what to say after Mabel’s outburst.  The silence continued until Stan finally let out a tired sigh.  “Well, that could have gone better.” He said, trying to break the tension.  While Amethyst put her hand on the conman’s shoulder in support, Steven was still awe-struck at what had just happened.  His mind began racing on how exactly he could help Mabel in a time like this.  In the past, Steven was no stranger to providing emotional support to his friends whenever things got too intense during one of their adventures.  However, the death of a family member was something entirely different.  Did he really have to the ability to properly comfort Mabel from such a loss?

“Steven…”  The young Gem’s train of thought was interrupted as he was addressed by Garnet.  He looked to the Gem leader to see what wisdom she would offer him this time.  “Go to her, Steven.  I know right now that you’re doubting whether you can support Mabel during her time of need, but you still need to see her.  She needs someone who can convince that she’s not alone, and I can’t think of anyone better than you.”  Garnet finished off by giving Steven a small smile.  “Kid,” Steven then turned to Stan.  “I don’t know if this will be useful, but tell Mabel that she’s going to be living here in Gravity Falls with us.  I’m not gonna dump her in some rundown orphanage.  Just…use that “charm” of yours and I’m sure she’ll listen to you.  I’m counting on you, kid. 

That was all the reassurance the young Gem needed as he gave a firm nod and made his way out the door.  Ford walked next to the Gem leader and gave her a concerned look.  “Do you…think he’ll be able to make Mabel smile again?” the author asked.  Garnet didn’t give a response right away and adjusted her shades.  “It will be difficult,” she said.  “And I’m not sure if it will be immediate.  But I believe does have what it takes.  That boy knows how to mend a broken heart.”

Mabel didn’t know how long she had been running for, and frankly, she didn’t care.  She was too sad or too angry to care about anything at the moment.  All she wanted to do was to just run away from thought that another part of her family had been taken from her.  She knew that was physically impossible, but that didn’t stop her from trying anyway.  Unfortunately, Mabel didn’t pay attention to her footing, so she ended tripping and getting a face full of sand.  When Mabel got back up and brushed off her face, she noticed that she was back at the lake.  The late afternoon sky colored the lake with a beautiful mix of reds and yellows, creating a scene from an exquisite painting.  Feeling tired front her sprint, Mabel decided to just sit down on the lakeshore and look into the horizon.  However, this did little to dull the pain that was aching in her heart.  The girl was starting to realize what was happening to her.  First it was Dipper, and now it was her beloved parents.  Her family was being taken away from her faster than she realized.  She could only wonder how long it be before she would be left all alone.

“Mabel!”  The girl turned around to find that Steven had followed her and had eventually caught with her.  “Go away, Steven,” she said turn back to look at the horizon again.  “I don’t want to talk.  Just…leave me alone.”  That was something Steven couldn’t afford to do.  The young Gem knew that his friend needed him now more than ever.  The poor girl was already very sensitive, so Steven knew he had to trend carefully with this.  “Listen Mabel,” he said, still feeling a little out of breath.  “I know things are really hard right now.  But please believe me when I say I’m here for you and I know what you’re going through.  You know that I lost my mom when I was really young.  So…”  Steven trailed off when he heard Mabel let out a sad sigh. 

“Steven, that’s completely different.  You didn’t even get to know your mom before she…died.  But I knew Mom and Dad for my whole life!  Birthdays, holidays, family outings, there were so many special moments with them that I’ll never get to experience again.  I’ll never get to see their smiling faces again or feel the warmth of their hugs.”  Mabel hugged her knees to her chest as fresh tears began forming in her eyes.  “What if we’re not able to save Dipper?  What if he’s stuck as Stonemason forever?  Do you realize what that means, Steven?  It would mean that almost all of my family would be gone.  And I really hate to admit it, but Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford are really old, and they won’t be around for long.  After that, I won’t have any family left, I’ll be alone.” The tears broke free from Mabel’s eyes again as the thought of being the only surviving member of the Pines family.  “Steven, just leave me alone.  I might as well just get use to spending-“

Mabel cut herself short when she felt two, warm arms wrap around her.  She turned around to see that Steven had pulled her into a hug, but there was something else.  She looked into the young Gem’s eyes and found only comfort and concern in them.  For a moment, Mabel felt safe as she just looked into Steven’s eyes.  After a few moments, Mabel broke down crying again, only this time, she started weeping into Steven’s shoulder.  For the next 10 minutes, Mabel just continued to sob into the young Gem shoulder, causing his shirt to get rather damp in the process.  However, this didn’t matter to Steven, as he continued to hug the poor girl and gently brush her hair to comfort her.  After what seemed like hours of hugging and crying, Mabel started to calm down.  She then looked to the young Gem again, her eyes red from all of her weeping.  Steven gave a gently smile and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Mabel, I want you to listen to me closely.” He said calmly.  Mabel gave a small sniffle and let the young Gem say what he needed to say.  “I know it feels like that you don’t have any family left, but that’s not true.  Mr. Pines told me that you’re going to be living here in Gravity falls with us.  He promised that he would never put you in an orphanage.  Mr. Pines and Mr. Ford might be old, but I have a feeling that they’re going to be around for a long time.”  This did bring some comfort to Mabel.  Gravity Falls was always like a second home to her, so at least she won’t be into an unfamiliar environment.  However, there still doubt in her mind about the future, but Steven wasn’t finished yet.  “And you should know that there’ll always be a place for you at the Temple as well.  As far as I’m concerned, you and Dipper are a part of my family too.  Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl all agree with me when I say that you are family.  So, just know that you’ll never be alone in this world, not as long as we are around.”

Sadness was still saturated in Mabel’s heart, but she was still moved by Steven’s touching words and drew him in for another hug.  Knowing that she still had family in the form of Steven and the Gem gave her a sense of safety from the crippling fear of being left alone in the world.  However, there was still one concern that was plaguing her mind.  “Telling Dipper about…this is going to be really difficult.” She said in a disheartening tone.  Steven responded in an equally saddened tone.  “I know,” he said.  “But we’ll worry about that when we finally save him.”

With that, Mabel closed her eyes and leaned her head on the young Gem’s shoulder again.  As much as she wanted to smile at this reassuring thought, she couldn’t.  Her heart was still hurting, and she didn’t feeling forcing on a fake smile.  But in the end, that was okay.  Because she had other people that could be positive for her.  She didn’t have to carry the world’s optimism on her shoulders all the time.  She could just sit back and silently enjoy the optimism that other provided for her.  But she knew that this was only temporary.  After an appropriate amount of time of mourning and grieving, she would be able to smile at the world again.  Even if she didn’t have her parents anymore.

After all, she would always have family to smile at.            

#universe falls #sumbission #submission #OOF THERE YA GO HITTING ME WITH THOSE INTENSE FEELS AGAIN BLAZER #THIS POOR CHILD DOESN"T DESERVE THAT KINDA PAIN #ah well at least ya gave it something of a happy ending #still i'd love to see your take on dipper finding out about this if ya ever feel up for such an incredibly angsty challenge #cause oh boy that'd be angst especially hot off the heels of stonemason #oof #im makin myself even sadder just thinkin bout it #either way this was lovely and sad #uf fan fics #uf 3 year anniversary extravaganza #au week #homefall au #blazer's oneshots

[bkbgames]

SquareEnix Collective Update

Life has been busy for the two of us over here at Fourends. I’m dealing with a recent second baby and both of us have hands full with a two-year-old (and other projects). But work on Voiceless continues on!

Most recently we’ve built a “bobbing” system---check out the gif below. Any event can have its own X and Y offsets at any time, which means our demonic monsters now float menacingly, our lilly pads gently bob in the water, terrified NPCs cower in fright, and so on and so on. This graphical addition is the same kind of subtle detail we seek out in the primary parts of the game, the writing and mechanics.

And sometimes it breaks...

But always looks awesome.

Our SquareEnix Collective campaign drawing to an end, may we turn your attention to  the best sources of new information on Voiceless: the social media accounts---our Facebook, Twitter, and itch.io (demo) pages. Or simply join the mailing list and we will update you on anything Voiceless related. Go! Follow one (or all) of them!

Combat - We want battles to feature the nail-biting difficulty of old school JRPGs, where each dungeon is a task of endurance and the player will be perpetually challenged---and immensely satisfied at the moment of victory. We also want to eschew the tediousness and RNG-ness (and, one could say, poor design) of some of those old games that usually created the tension.

Our goal is three types of combat: 1) a new encounter--in which you play it safe to learn the enemy’s moveset; 2) known encounters (the majority)--in which you must balance your limited resources (HP, MP, items, etc.) to not only defeat foes, but stay well stocked for the rest of the dungeon; 3) and the JRPG staple--enemies that are so below your skill and level that you just mash Attack until defeated. Putting enemies on the map will let you choose your encounters more strategically--we don’t want crazy fights to constantly interrupt your exploration unless you want them to, and the rewards for victory will be all the sweeter.

Our six voiceless party members start off in typical roles for the player to mix and match their own party of four--we have your typical tank, DPS, healer, and a few that are in-between. Over a few short levels of choosing particular progression paths and seeing the range that’s possible, they can be molded to fit roles of your choice, so you can play them how you want them. While some combinations are more viable from the start--we want your strategic choices and skill to be what opens the door to all (sane) combinations being viable at the end. Your more “typical” tank may start as a tank, but by endgame he could be a master of inflicting damage and nasty statuses. Or maybe you’ve doubled down on the tank role and added a retribution aura and some potent healing abilities. Or heck, he may end up a mix of both if that’s how you like it.

The enemies you’ll encounter will cycle through their attacks (a la FF1), permitting the player to exploit their patterns--once you know them. However, while balancing each encounter is not too hard a process at low levels, as your custom party of four very customized heroes grows, our job gets harder; in fact, making bosses the right amount of tougher-than-you (yet winnable) becomes a logistical nightmare as we try to account for all the possibilities. That aspect of the game design will take up more of our time than any other. So give us some time (or your own excel sheet of balanced changes and we will think about merging it in--seriously).

Besides that, we continue to play with our stealth mechanics and provide you a 5th party member: Foxe himself. He may not be under your direct control, or on the front lines of battle, but where else should a master thief be than stealing items from enemies so you don’t have to waste a turn. And should those enemies run out of items--or if you equip Foxe differently--our mouth-running master thief is also capable of dealing out some extra damage (and not just he verbal kind) or applying potions in tight situations.

Other Platforms - One of the most intriguing responses we’ve been getting from you guys is the desire to play this game on the Nintendo Switch. We want that, too! In fact we REALLY want it. Heck, we’d love to see it on the PS4 and Xbox and 3DS. And it’s highly plausible given our understanding of Unity. The unfortunate problem: it would take a lot of dev-time (a year?) to move the engine over to Unity and then an additional eternity of troubleshooting and console-debugging. While it’s certainly not out of the cards, we do want to get Voiceless out to the public as soon as possible, and a PC release first is the best way to do that (key word being “first,” not only).

But if that’s really what you fellas want---and we want it too---we will let you tell us exactly that with our upcoming Kickstarter campaign. If that campaign proves successful enough, you decide the stretch goals: 1) upgrading to 16-bit art, 2) expanding our library of music tailored specifically for this game, and 3) getting this game on the Switch. Oh, and virtual hats, always more virtual hats.

Since this is my dev blog - I do really really (triple really) want to see this game on the Switch. It might be the perfect JRPG/casual/handheld console. However, working in software development with a multi-platform product... it is terrifying how differently (and sometimes terribly) different platforms work. We could see a bug free Voiceless release to PC by early next year - and in a perfect world port to unity and release to all platforms within the next year... but the requirements for consoles are so different than PC. PCs (usualy) have lots of RAM, beefy CPUs, and error eating that let games get by easy. Consoles... you have to have it run crash free for DAYS while someone tries to break it.... I don’t want crashes, but I don’t have the time to find and fix a bug that isnt reproducable that sometimes only ever happens on a device that is 12 years old and only 3 people have... not a fun bug/witch hunt.

To explain - no, there is no time - to sum up (best movie ever): I would love to spend the time to build a legit JRPG system on top of unity and see Voiceless ported to the world of consoles - but it would take a non-zero amount of time and monies... so.. I guess we let the people decide in the most democratic way ever - put your cash where your voice is with our kickstarter (coming soon to an internet near you).

#Voiceless #voicelcessjrpg #JRPG #indie #kickstarter #square enix collective #i hate bugs

[dazaran]

title: ouroboros mirror ship: ayatsuji yukito/kyogoku natsuhiko rating: G AO3 link: here!

day three of rarepair week -- prompt : soulmates / obsession.

The concept of soulmates is always one that grated on Ayatsuji’s nerves. Not because he dislikes the concept of having someone to spend the rest of your days with, but because that a majority of society likes to believe that the definition of ‘soulmate’ is someone who is your perfect fit - which of course is impossible in itself, as ‘perfection’ does not exist.

Someone like him cannot have something perfect. No, not someone as tainted as him. Anyone who is his soulmate would think the same thing of themselves.

But if you were to ask him if he had a soulmate, he would think ‘yes’ and respond ‘no’ - that was just how complicated the relationship was. Ayatsuji didn’t want to live with the man, but at the same time, he couldn’t live without him either. It was a horrendous case of a snake eating its tail, and endless cycle he couldn’t stop, and the other had no intention of discontinuing.

Ayatsuji will swear to himself and to Tsujimura he hates Kyogoku Natsuhiko, but when it comes down to it, his entire job as a detective left him hyperfocused on the man known as Public Enemy #1. Ayatsuji hated him, he cared for him, he wished to defeat him. It was an ungodly combination of obsession and selfishness that could never be sated, and that selfishness is exactly what Kyogoku loved the most.

It was so he could indulge in watching Ayatsuji’s selfishness that Kyogoku went to such lengths to draw the detective’s attention, killing and manipulating others if need be. To reach out for him normally went against his principles, and Ayatsuji would have been too suspicious to agree to such a thing either. He had to do something drastic to draw the detective’s attention... Which certainly said a lot about his personality.

Basically, it wasn’t easy at all to get Ayatsuji Yukito’s attention, let alone keep it.

And once he had it, the thrill of having the attention of Japan’s most dangerous ability user was so addicting that he couldn’t get enough of it. Ayatsuji is the oasis in the desert, the mirage on the horizon, what Kyogoku desires to keep all for himself, yet let go when they’re too close - a game of cat and mouse that tortures both of their hearts.

Call him a masochist if you would, but there was something all too pleasant in it all. Even if it hurt his heart, and Ayatsuji’s, he loved it all the same. This was a game only the two of them understood, a game only the two of them could play... And Ayatsuji knew that too. That’s why he, too, never stopped.

“Kyogoku... you bastard...” Ayatsuji wheezes, slamming a clenched fist against the worn statue to his right as he falls to his knees next to it, panting for air after having finally finished climbing the mountain. Of all the ridiculous ways Kyogoku had challenged him, this truly had to be the worst. Not only had someone been killed, but the puzzle left in the man’s wake had led the homicide detective up a mountain of all things. While it’s very like Kyogoku to want to loiter around an abandoned temple for a mountain god, Ayatsuji can’t share the sentiment. At all.

Kyogoku laughs, shoulders hitching up innocently. “You should stop smoking. Your lungs would be grateful for it, Ayatsuji-kun.”

Ayatsuji glares dangerously through his sweat-drenched bangs. “I’ll kill you.” he hisses, though his voice lacks its usual bite, as it’s dry from thirst. Of course he has no intention of listening to such a suggestion.

Kyogoku gives a dramatic sigh. He expected that answer, as well as this situation, and  was prepared for it. Reaching into one of his sleeves, he pulls out a small flask while stepping forward to close the distance between himself and the younger man. Ayatsuji’s expression turns vaguely curious, gaze wary - but he says nothing, merely seeming to wait and see what Kyogoku does.

Kyogoku stops before him, twisting off the cap and pouring a generous amount of its contents into his mouth. It makes Ayatsuji straighten his back, as if trying to view the contents.

“What is-”

Before he can finish, Kyogoku leans forward to loom over him, worn gloved hands cupping both of his cheeks. (They’re warm - they always have been, so aggravatingly warm and comforting.) Their lips meet, and the sorcerer angles the detective’s head back far enough to force Ayatsuji to open his mouth and accept whatever Kyogoku had poured into his mouth. It only takes half a second for Ayatsuji to realize it’s just plain water, and he lifts a hand to grip at Kyogoku’s kimono as hard as possible, pulling him closer as if trying to accept every drop.

That desperation, that anger - it’s so beautiful, it’s so addicting. Kyogoku loves it, he obsesses over it.

When the kiss breaks, the blonde gasps, though it’s more out of thirst than being out of air and they both know it. Autumn brown eyes narrow, staring up into Kyogoku’s even darker ones. Despite their depth, despite the dark color, they still have a playful twinkle that is ever so characteristic of Kyogoku.

“Do you feel better now?” Kyogoku teases.

Ayatsuji huffs, snatching the flask of water out of Kyogoku’s hands to down the contents. Some of it spills out the corner of his mouth, dripping down his neck and into his shirt, which the older only watches in interest. When the water is completely gone, the detective tosses the metal flask aside with a relieved gasp, pivoting on a knee to take a seat on the worn stone floor underneath him. His forearms rest on his knees, gloved hand dangling out in front of him.

“... So?”

The sorcerer hums curiously, tilting his head. “So - what?”

“You didn’t call me up here for nothing. Stop playing the fool.”

“Oh,” a chuckle. Kyogoku paces around Ayatsuji before stopping at his side. “To you, it would surely be nothing.”

“Being given no explanation from you is more infuriating than a seemingly pointless reason.”

To the point, as always. Kyogoku smiles, looking down at his company. “I wished to show you this lovely view. Isn’t it nice?”

Ayatsuji deadpans in return, clearly unamused. Even so, after letting his gaze linger long enough to make him feel as if he’s thoroughly made his displeasure obvious, he sighs and looks away to take in the view that Kyogoku speaks of. Such a remote location in the Hokkaido region of all places... Truly, it is beautiful - but he’s too prideful to actually agree with Kyogoku. “... You have too much free time on your hand, stupid old man. Get a hobby.”

“Oh, but I certainly do have one.”

“‘Helping’ people commit crimes is not a hobby.”

“That, my dear, is not my hobby. Consider it a part of my occupation your government has so kindly pinned onto me.” Kyogoku bends down to take a seat on the uppermost stair of the mountain’s worn trail, smiling at his company. “Rather, is my hobby not giving you moments of freedom from the cage you loathe?”

A roll of Ayatsuji’s eyes, joined by a scoff. “Do it without getting others involved and I’d consider saying thank you.”

“Oh, isn’t that too boring? We both know you’d be more suspicious if I invited you out normally.”

Silence - it’s confirmation, of course, which they both are well aware of.

Kyogoku smiles in amusement at the reaction, then continues, “There is no one on this earth who can pull you out of your cage as I can, Ayatsuji-kun, and likewise, there is no one on this earth close enough to understanding my ways and going to equal lengths to find me. That is how we know we’re each other’s ‘other half’.”

Ugh. The very fact that Kyogoku somehow came to the topic of soulmates when Ayatsuji had been thinking about it on his way up this damn mountain made everything all the more obnoxious, all the more clear that they were truly, unfortunately meant for each other.

“Another philosophy lecture - you’re exhausting me.” the detective lifts a hand to remove his hat, setting it aside before coming his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not quite a lecture as much as it is my own thoughts. Think of it in this manner, Ayatsuji-kun: a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. Is that not what we are, intentional or otherwise?”

Because the only person allowed to kill you and I is the other, and absolutely no one else.

For what feels like minutes, Ayatsuji and Kyogoku keep each other’s gaze. They do not move, do not blink, and perhaps do not even breathe. The only sound that can be heard is the rustling of the trees and the faraway song of a sparrow as if it couldn’t bear the idea of the area lacking in a voice.

Eventually, Ayatsuji laughs, lowering his head with a snort of amusement. “You’re impossible, Natsuhiko.”

That small bit of happiness is enough. That is all the sorcerer aims to gain amidst the atrocities he commits. “That I am,” he agrees with a laugh. “That is why you will never defeat me, not even for an eternity.”

“Maybe not now. But some day, at some point, you will concede. You can’t run forever.”

“I encourage you to continue to challenge me to the best of your abilities to make that a reality, Yukito.”

“Yeah... Wait for me, stubborn fool.”

“Until the sun sets never to rise again, I will do just that."

That determination, bravery - those too, Kyogoku obsesses over, as there is no feeling more disgustingly genuine and raw in the matters of love than obsession .

#bsd rarepairweek #day3 #ayatsuji yukito #kyogoku natsuhiko #kyoaya #rattles my keys please ship kyoaya mayhaps

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Eternity Springs-The McBrides-Tucker by Emily March

The McBrides of Texas #2

Walking down the road in red with sky-high-high-heels without a clue to location or how to get home, Gillian Thacker keeps moving forward. Tucker McBride, recently free from military commitment is on that road, sees the woman in red, realizes she needs help and stops to...help.

And thinking that was the hook, and it was, I had to WAIT because the two were not destined to move on from rescued maiden to happily ever after immediately. Nope, they had to deal with a pesky fiance that was a no good low down rather useless waste of space guy that should have been dropped by Gillian MUCH earlier. Again...Nope...I had to wait. I think Tucker knew he was attracted but he was still dealing with a bit of detritus from his past and being a good guy that did not poach, well, the moving on together thing had to wait.

What I liked:

* Tucker: what a wonderful man this one was! Smart, rugged, focused, ready to settle down, opening up a new business, a great friend, wonderful with family, all that a woman could ask for...and so much more

* Gillian:  a bit of an emotional mess but working to improve. Her sense of trust (of self and others) shaken and unwilling to believe in herself. I liked her but at times wanted to shake her and say...”wake up”...glad she did...eventually.

* Hints of previous characters in book in this and related series. Made me want to find those books and reread them again

* The S.U.R.V.I.V.A.L. and L.I.V.I.N.G. acronym portions and how they helped Gillian cope and grow

* Haley’s porti.on with Tucker

* The cave...what fun and what an impact it made on the story...along with the whole survival thing

* Boone’s situation – kind of curious how that will work out for him as he deals with whether or not to be the guardian of a child and how that will impact his life and how he will find hit partner.

* The play on words that cropped up here and there and mad me think while also making me smile

*The significance and power of red

* Just about everything except..

What I did not like:

* Jeremy: bottom feeder, user, cheater, etc – not worthy of licking Gillian’s boots

* Gillian’s dithering, insecurity and inability to trust her ability to truly know her feelings

* The bridezillas

Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely

Thank you to Net Gally and St. Martin’s Paperbacks for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4.5 Stars

BLURB

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Emily March comes the second book in the Eternity Springs: The McBrides of Texas trilogy, TUCKER (St. Martin’s Paperbacks, February 25, 2020, $7.99). Two business owners come head-to-head in a feud with tulle and grit in this passionate story. This tale shows that even when life changes from the stress of a military career to working next to a wedding planner, love always finds a way to begin, even if it was never thought possible.

Meet Gillian Thacker. Her business: Bliss Bridal Salon. Her passion: Weddings. Her own wedding: It’s complicated. Life isn’t turning out like she’d planned. The last thing she wants is for a real-life hero to ride to her rescue, but an unexpected event puts her entire future in Redemption, Texas, at risk. So what’s a broken-hearted bridal expert to do? Maybe a new set of survival skills is exactly what she needs…

Tucker McBride has been proud to call himself a U.S. Army Ranger. But now that his days of service are over, he’s decided to put his expertise to use by founding a wilderness skills training school. He sets up shop in Redemption, next to Bliss Bridal, and so begins life: Part Two. Marriage has been pretty low on his agenda, but as soon as he meets Gillian, Tucker can’t help but contemplate the ultimate challenge: Convincing the reluctant bride to take his hand and leap into the adventure of a lifetime . . . until death do them part.

EXCERPT

Chapter Two

Tucker was a sixth-generation Texan, small-town born and bred. Certain behaviors were stamped into his DNA. A real man tipped his hat to the ladies, opened doors for females of any age, and never, ever failed to stop and assist a woman in distress.

So, of course, he had to turn around.

That this particular woman in distress was a total smoke show dressed in fire-engine red only made playing the role of Texas gentleman that much sweeter. He wondered how she’d managed to find herself out here in the middle of nowhere, no car in sight, not a house anywhere around, and the closest town a good ten miles away. Unfortunately, hot looks and a bright mind didn’t always go together.

He pulled to a stop beside her and flipped up the visor of his helmet. His assessing stare met a wary gaze shining from big, periwinkle-blue eyes that were swollen and red-rimmed with tears. She had an abrasion on her cheek just above her chin. Had someone hit her? When his quick visual sweep of her body revealed additional redness on both of her arms, he reconsidered. Airbag deployment, most likely. “Do you need some help, ma’am?”

He watched her intently and saw her quietly repeat the word ma’am. After a moment’s hesitation, she licked her lips, swallowed hard, and said, “Well, um, I, um. May I borrow your phone?”

Her voice was smooth as Tennessee whiskey with just enough Texas in her drawl to sound like home to ears too far away for too long. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took a small step backward as he set his kick- stand and climbed off his bike. She’s scared of me.

It was a perfectly natural reaction and showed some sense, but Tucker didn’t like scaring women, so when he pulled off his helmet, he was scowling. Her eyes widened, she took another step back, and he realized he’d made the situation worse. Well, hell.

He reached deep inside him for the charm that had grown rusty with disuse, made a stab at a reassuring smile, and addressed the elephant in the cotton field. “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you. I came back to see if I could help. That’s all. I give you my word, and a McBride’s word is his bond.”

“That’s so old-fashioned,” she said.

“Yes, well, that’s how we roll. Now, I’m going to reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.”

Her gaze dropped to his hand, and she gave a nervous little laugh. “No gun?”

“No gun.” That was in a different pocket.

Tucker unzipped his jacket and reached into an inner pouch for his phone while trying his best to look unthreatening. Their fingers brushed as he handed it over. Her fingernail color matched her dress.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. My name is Tucker.”

“I’m Gillian.” Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip as she stared at the phone. “Do you have Google maps? I need to send a pin of my location to my—”

She broke off abruptly, and her head came up. Those glittering blue eyes—puffy and swollen from tears and framed by long, thick lashes—went round and big. Distracted, he fell into them. “Tucker Mc- Bride? Your name is Tucker McBride?”

He blinked and pulled slightly away. Now it was his turn to be wary. “Yes.”

She gave him a once-over, and some of the stiff- ness melted from her spine. “I know Jackson. Boone too. You’re the third cousin, aren’t you?”

Well, this was unexpected. “Yes, Boone and Jack- son are cousins of mine. Have we met?” He didn’t think so. He’d damned sure remember her.

“No.”

“I’m surprised you’d connect me to them. We’re a long way from Redemption.”

“Are we?” She gave a short, strained laugh. “I wouldn’t know. I’m lost. But you look just like them, and Tucker McBride is an unusual name. Plus, I re- member when the three of you arrived in Redemption the first time. You all rode motorcycles. My friend Maisy laughed that you had your own little McBride gang, so you were perfect for Ruin.”

Tucker grinned. “If you only knew.” He extended his hand toward her for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Gillian . . . ?”

“Thacker. Gillian Thacker.” Her grip was firm, her smile filled with relief. “I’m a friend of Caroline Carruthers. Are you on your way to visit Redemption?”

Caroline was the woman Jackson was seeing, Tucker knew. He nodded. “Yes, I am. So now that you know I’m not a serial killer, want to tell me what you’re doing standing in a cotton field in a sundress and stilettos? Not exactly apparel for farming.”

She glanced down at her feet. “Technically, I’m not in the field but on the shoulder of a road. A narrow, two-lane, never-ending road. And no, cotton is not my thing. I’m all about satin and lace.”

Satin and lace? A vision of Gillian in lingerie the same shade of red as her dress flashed in Tucker’s mind as she continued, “I sell wedding gowns at a bridal shop in Redemption. Bliss Bridal Salon on Main Street.”

He tore his thoughts from the fantasy and listened when she began babbling about a pig and a pecan and a purse without a phone charger. When she finally wound down, she left Tucker shaking his head at her foolishness. He held up his hand. “Let me get this straight. You weren’t joking about being lost? You literally don’t know where you are?”

“No. Not exactly.” She lifted her chin, and her voice sharpened defensively. “I know I’m still in Central Texas. I’m somewhere between I-35 and I-45. I’m north of Austin. I think.”

He slowly shook his head. “Where is your car?

How far have you walked?”

“That way.” She hooked her thumb over her shoul- der. “Maybe two or three miles. I’ve been walking a while.”

“In those shoes?”

She gave a rueful smile.

Copyright © 2020 by Geralyn Dawson Williams.

AUTHOR BIO

Emily March is the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels, including the critically acclaimed Eternity Springs series. Publishers Weekly calls March a "master of delightful banter," and her heartwarming, emotionally charged stories have been named to Best of the Year lists by Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, and Romance Writers of America.

A graduate of Texas A&M University, Emily is an avid fan of Aggie sports and her recipe for jalapeño relish has made her a tailgating legend.

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#Emily March #St. Martin's Paperbacks #NetGalley #The McBrides of Texas 2 #Contemporary Romance

[thecrazydragonlady]

A Gift for Adrien- A Miraculous One-Shot

Synopsis: Chat Noir has noticed something. Lately, whenever they finish patrol, his lady happens to pull out some yarn from the bag she’s taken to carrying. Oddly enough, his classmate Marinette is working on the same gift. There’s no way they could be…? Could it?

Author’s Note: I'm still trucking along and this time, with a fluffy Adrinette/ Ladynoir reveal fic requested by Soggy on AO3! Enjoy!

Chat Noir scaled the side of the Eiffel Tower with ease, landing on a steel beam, his eyes glowing in the evening gloom. His ears twitched and his nose caught the whiff of something rather lovely. He lifted it in the air. Licking his lips, he strolled across the beam until he joined Ladybug where she sat on the edge, swinging her legs back and forth as she hummed lightly to herself. She leaned her head just enough to acknowledge his approach. Her bluebell eyes didn’t turn to face him as she was completely engrossed with something in her hands. He smiled. Sitting next to her, he stared at the movements of her hands.

“How'd it go,” she asked, still hooking and wrapping the yarn in a technique he’d remembered as crocheting. He shrugged.

“Not bad. Managed to catch some guy harassing a couple of ladies on their way home but for the most part, it was quiet.”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty quiet on my end too.” A smirk appeared on her lips and she paused in her work long enough to reach to the other side of her seat and toss him an all too familiar bag. With the emblem “TS” on the front, Chat licked his lips as the goodies landed in his lap. He opened the bag quickly. Inside was an assortment of cookies and croissants which he greedily searched through until he found one with chocolate, his favorite. He sat the bag back between them.

“Thanks LB.” She muttered in response. They sat in silence for sometime until curiosity finally got the best of him. “So what are you making? You’ve been working on it pretty hard for the last week or so.” She hesitated, her fingers slowing around the yarn. She didn’t stop though. Absently, she replied, “It’s a birthday gift for one of my classmates.” He smirked.

“Really? That’s awesome. You know, my birthday is coming up soon too.” She blinked. A soft smile crossed her face.

“Sorry Chat. I didn’t know. I won’t be able to make you anything but I’d be more than happy to get you something.” He waved a hand.  

"Don't worry about it."

"Chat...."

"Seriously," he held his hands up defensively. "We'll be on patrol that night anyway. Just seeing you will be enough." Ladybug frowned.

"Aren't you going to celebrate with your family?" Chat's ears drooped against his head. He turned to look back over the Paris skyline, his tail swinging back and forth.  

"Not... No, I won't," he eventually replied, "My dad... well, he's busy all the time and celebrating my birthday isn't... isn't something we've done since my mom disappeared." She blinked. Suddenly, she was hugging him and he was stunned for a second but eventually hugged her back. They stayed like that for a moment.  

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck. He sniffled but smiled, releasing the hug first.

"I'm alright. I'm used to it. He's strict but he means well." He eyed her project again. "So who's the lucky classmate who's getting that?" Ladybug smiled softly herself, holding it up. Chat could easily see the shape of a mitten that was coming into form; the blue color reminded him of the scarf his father had gotten him for his birthday last year.

"Last year," she started, "I made him a scarf from this same color but he thought his dad got it for him. He was so happy that I didn't have the heart to confess I was the one who had given it to him. So this year, I'm going to give him a matching set of mittens and maybe a hat if I get the time." She sighed. "I've just been so busy that I haven't had time to work on them at home." Chat's eyes narrowed. His heart pounded like crazy the more he listened to her speak. What were the chances that the color of the mittens matched his scarf? What were the chances that he received a scarf last year from his dad?

Or had he?

Chat kicked his legs a bit. "Just be sure to take care to get enough sleep my lady. One last question: What's the name of this classmate? I think I'll get him something too since he's getting something from Ladybug." She giggled and poked his nose.

"You silly cat. Adrien's not going to know it's from Ladybug." She paused and then face palmed. "I didn't mean to say that." He blinked. Adrien? As in ADRIEN AGRESTE? As in him? No, no, no. He couldn't be hopeful. Afterall, how many Adriens existed in the world? He swallowed hard.

"No worries my lady. There are tons of Adriens out there. Your identity is still safe."  

She relaxed a bit and reached over to scratch under his chin. He closed his eyes, purring softly. When she released him, she packed up her bag. "Alright kitty. Bedtime for these heroes. I'll see you later." He blushed and nodded watching as she took off into the evening. Chat stood quickly. Heart racing, feeling like it was embedded in his throat, he ran off for his own home.

****

Plagg watched as Adrien tore through his closet. Not even seconds after detransforming, his chosen had taken off for said location, mumbling and looking like no tomorrow. The cat kwami only rolled his eyes. He flew down lower to look over his friend's shoulder as he frantically looked through the closet for the article of clothing they'd spoken about. Finding it, he held it up with a triumphant cheer.  

"Great you found it. Now about my cheese...."

"Just a sec," Adrien absently replied. He walked over to his desk where he laid the scarf across it. Yep. The blues definitely matched. He'd recognize that color anywhere; it was his favorite second only to the deep blue of Ladybug's eyes. He took in a sharp breath. There was nothing... nothing he recognized at least. Nothing to give her identity away. At first glance. Plagg's eyes narrowed and he yawned as he watched Adrien examine the scarf as closely as possible. He hummed and grumbled to himself. After a couple of minutes of this, Plagg finally had enough. He flew down and glared at his chosen.  

"Give it up kid. Do you think Ladybug is actually careless enough to give away something about herself? Meanwhile, I'm dying of starvation here!"

Adrien sat up then, smirking rather broadly, eyes glassy and far off. "I found it," he whispered.  

Plagg blinked. "Found what? Cheese I hope."

"Even better. I know who Ladybug is."  

His mouth dropped. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Plagg humphed but shrugged.

"Whatever. Can I get my cheese now?" Adrien smiled, but finally handed the greedy cat his cheese.  

****

Marinette was sure she was losing her mind. It was one hundred percent a fact. For the last week alone, for some odd reason, Adrien Agreste of all people had been... well, acting strange is the only way she could think about it. Usually, Adrien maybe said something like "hi" or "Your work is awesome" to her but lately, he'd been trying to actually make conversation with her, asking her questions like how her day had been or what her favorite color was or what she thought about Chat Noir (even though he'd already asked her that in the past). Of course, her lack of ability to actually have a conversation with him got in the way and she'd run off each time, leaving him to contemplate his next plan of attack.

She sighed as she sat on one of the benches with Alya next to her. She raised an eyebrow at her dark haired friend. "Girl, what's got you all down?"

"I don't know," she finally admitted, "but have you noticed something... odd about Adrien?" The umber haired girl eyed her but then turned to eye the model who was across the way talking animatedly with Nino. She shrugged.  

"Nothing. Why?"

She returned the gesture. "I don't know. It just seems like... like he's actually trying to talk to me more." Alya squealed and hugged her.

"That is the opposite of a problem Mari! That's exactly what you want to happen!"

"Yeah but I'm still no good at talking with him. It hasn't been going well." Alya hummed.

"Why don't you use your birthday gift as a conversation starter?" She blushed, eyeing her bag where said gift was hiding. She'd managed, thanks to her near peaceful nightly patrols, to finish the mittens and hat even though Winter and cold weather was nowhere near being back in the city of Paris. Chat had been oddly quiet during that time too. He didn't make puns and he didn't ask questions. He merely munched on the goodies she'd brought from the bakery and made pleasant comments about how the Dupain-Cheng sweets were the best in all of Paris and how he could eat them for the rest of eternity and never get tired. Alya smiled. She elbowed her friend in the side. "Well, you better decide if you're going to use it or not. Good luck!" Suddenly, the girl was gone, skipping off back upstairs before Mari could stop her. She gasped.

Adrien walked over but stopped a few feet away. His face was flushed red and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as his green eyes shot back and forth between her and the ground. "Hey Marinette," he greeted. She squeaked, her face turning red as she waved to him. There was a pause. He cleared his throat. "So... um...." Marinette was amazed when she saw the red grow on his face and he rubbed his hand over his face now. He looked... so hesitant and scared and shy that she found it completely adorable. "Listen, Mari," he said slowly, "I need to talk to you. Can we... can we go somewhere private?"

She blinked. "Uh... s-sure." He smiled, motioning for her to lead the way. Her brain spun as she grabbed her bag, leading the way out the front of the school and across the street to the park. It was mostly empty as everyone was pretty much at work or school or preoccupied with the rest of the park. The weather was cool and pleasant.  

They were pretty much alone.

She was sure her head was going to explode. If not that, then her heart. She fidgeted as he took the lead and led her over to a deserted park bench. No one was around; all they could hear was the distant laughter of children too young for school and the birds in the trees. Her nervousness only grew the longer they sat there.  

What in the world could he want to talk about?

She took a breath. Then, using what little courage she could muster, she quickly reached into her bag and pulled out the gift, presenting it to him. Adrien blinked.  

"H-happy birthday Adrien," she stuttered. Slowly, he took the package, opening it in front of her. She buried her face in her hands as she held her breath, waiting.  

Eventually he spoke. "I knew it," he whispered. Mari squeaked when suddenly, his hands were around her, giving her the tightest hug ever. She blinked. She wrapped her arms around him in return. He breathed in her scent deeply; she smelled of sugar, bread, and sweetness.

He wanted to purr.

When she pulled back, it was with a quizzical but happy, "What did you mean? You knew it?" It was his turn to smile. He took her hand and gently placed a kiss on the knuckles. Her face erupted red.  

"I knew... it was you my lady," he whispered. It took a second but his words set in. Marinette gasped, pulling back her hand to cover her mouth.

"You... you...!" He smirked.

"I am," he answered the question. She stared at him then reached up, mussing his hair.  He closed his eyes and let it happen. When she was satisfied, she sat back, her eyes growing wider and confused.  

"But... how? You two are so different!"

"You wound me my lady. Whether I'm Chat Noir or Adrien, both sides of me are clawesome and completely me."  

"Oh god you are him," she complained, face palming. "No one makes puns that horrible except you and my dad." He laughed. Slowly, he took her hands in his, staring down at them as he rubbed gentle circles into them.  

"Are you mad," he asked, "that I found out or that... I'm Chat?"

"What? No! For either of those. Why would I be mad that you're Chat?"

He cringed. "You were so gun-ho about keeping our identities safe that I was scared to talk to you about it and … well... you never seemed to like Adrien so...." Marinette smiled and put a finger on his lips. He stopped talking.

"Adrien, minou, I don't hate you. I've never hated you. Sure I didn't exactly like you when we met but after we talked... well, it was the opposite. I started liking you Adrien." She paused. "And I trust Chat with my life. Sure it's surprising to find out you two are the same and I won't lie, I'm worried about what Hawkmoth will do if he finds out who either of us is, but right now, I can't be mad that you figured it out."  

"Really?"

"Really."

The smile returned to his face and he hugged her again. "Thank-you my lady," he whispered in her ear. Pushing back, he finally stated, "This has got to be the best birthday ever."

She laughed. "Right. Say that after we finish with our physics test." She grabbed her bag and held out a hand to him. "Shall we go?" He nodded, taking it and letting her lead the way back to the school for the rest of their day.

#mlfanfiction #ladynoir #adrinette #reveal #one-shot number 3

[thejojosanctuary]

can I request jonathan, josuke's and maybe jotaro's reactions to seeing their s/o in a muscle shirt and seeing that they have a very scarred body from a combination of being accident-prone and also living in an abusive household when they were young?

I decided to do their reactions separated instead of saying the marks on S/O are a combination of both so I hope you don’t mind! ^-^

Also guys I’ll be trying to get through these requests as fast as I can so that I’ll be able to get the requests open again (I’ll be writing up and posting the scenarios last to make it easier)

Enjoy

-Ghost 

Jonathan

·        Pure cinnamon roll’s going to be flustered tofind his S/O wandering around in such revealing clothing (by the standards ofwhat he’s grown up with anyway) and would go to ask them about their choice ofshirt when he spots them

·        Scars, varying in size, length and depth wouldbe visibly peppered over their body and the skin that was exposed; and whatoccurs next is simple:

·        PANIC

·        Jonathan’s not one to so abruptly touch anotherperson, but the sight of thr marks makes him act without thinking and withoutrealising it his hands are firmly grasping S/O’s shoulders are he desperatelyscans them to get an accurate idea of how severe their injuries are

·        “My love!What could have happened to you while I was gone! How could I have let thishappen to you?!”

·        S/O’s going to have to explain that it wasn’this fault and ‘that he can stop tearingup now’, bringing the gentle giant down into an embrace until their wordshave sunk in

·        The nature of their injuries determines the reactionthey’re going to get from him

·        If their scars were caused from simply beingclumsy by nature you’ll see him visibly sag in relief, glad that another personwasn’t responsible; but he’ll still be incredibly careful from now on

·        S/O could be doing something that might beconsidered even a little dangerous and Jonathan will be watching like a massivepuppy from the side-lines, fighting off the urge to barge in and help (which hewill ultimately fall victim to)

·        If their scars cause them any pain he’ll usehamon to heal them as best he can to relieve any discomfort and will be gladwhenever they tell him it doesn’t hurt anymore

·        On the other hand, if it was a person who was the cause of theirinjuries he’ll be utterly devastated as he does his best to comfort them andfind out what exactly his beautiful partner has suffered through; right beforedetermination sets in to bring his S/O to justice

·        He can’t just sit by idly and let his S/O liveon with no closure from the event

Josuke

·        A surprise visit to S/O’s house wasn’t uncommonfor Josuke since it had become a regular occurrence to come around whenever hewasn’t hanging out with his friends

·        But when he walked through the door to find themturned away from him wearing a low cut shirt he noticed the marks that marredtheir skin, from small scrapes to large gashes that had long healed over butremained as permanent reminders

·        Similar to Jonathan he’s going to freak out,although he wouldn’t grab onto them and instead practically run circles aroundthem with a barrage of questions as his anger slowly rises

·        “Holy shitbabe what happened to you? Was it a stand user?! Where are they I’ll kick theirass!!!”

·        They’re gonna have to physically hold him inplace to get the message across and after S/O explains the nature of theirmarks he’s going to have either one of two reactions

·        The first, if the marks were on accident, thereis going to be confusion and a little bit of hurt that they didn’t bring thisup to him before (his stand can heal wounds after all) but he’d understand thatto them it may seem like they’re taking advantage of him so he wouldn’t be mad

·        Although you can bet from now on he’s going toheal even the smallest of bumps and scrapes for them, maybe even giving acheesy ‘magic kiss’ sometimes

·        The second reaction would be if the cause of themarks was more sinister, in which case he’ll feel pure, unbridled RAGE

·        Before they know it he’s collecting everyone heknows – Okuyasu, Koichi, Jotaro, Yuuya, Shigechi, even Rohan – and starting up a search party for the personresponsible (people will almost think they’re looking for Kira again orsomething)

·        No need to worry though he’s not going to killthem but he’ll certainly make them very, very sorry for what they did (whilstgiving Crazy Diamond’s abilities an excellent workout~)

Jotaro

·        Jotaro doesn’t suspect anything to be wrong withhis S/O wearing long sleeved clothing that provided coverage (it was their bodyand they could do what they want with it as far as he’s concerned) but he alsowouldn’t pay any mind to when they switch the long sleeves for less cover dueto the heat

·        He only really notices when S/O reaches aroundhim to grab something and he spots the bruises and scars scattered up theirarm, which at this point is a massive wake up call

·        He’s grabbed their arm before they’ve pulledaway, not making eye contact with them at all as his eyes scan across just howmany healed wounds are now visible thanks to the loose shirt (and it doesn’teven show the scars that lay beneath the material)

·        There’s silence for what feels like an eternity withhim just staring before his eyes dart up and his intense gaze is locked withtheirs

·        “Who” “Huh?”“Who did this”

·        It wouldn’t even be a question , more like ademand for answers from his S/O and he isn’t moving anywhere until he gets them

·        When they explain to him that they’re all causedfrom their clumsy nature (which he has seen first-hand) he’ll remain with hishand on their arm, his thumb gently brushing over their skin briefly beforerelinquishing his hold and tilting down his hat

·        “Yare yaredaze…try to be more careful”

·        If, however, it’s revealed that the scars werecaused by someone else he won’t say a word but he’ll tense up considerably, hisgrip loosening as he pulls away and begins making his way towards the door

·        If S/O asks where he’s going he’ll simply reply “I’ve got to make a call – I’ll be back soon”as the door slams behind him with terrifying force (the frames of the door evenjolting violently)

·        Expect whoever hurt his S/O to either go missingor end up incarcerated for the rest of their life

#jjba headcanon #part 1 #part 3 #part 4 #phantom blood #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #jonathan joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #request #anon #Ghost's post #scars

[1232andthinkingofyou]

The Captain

I took a deep breath as I walked towards an old iron gate I had entered a thousand times before. I stopped just before to gaze up at the sign that hung above the entry, McMartin Peace Camp. This hippie commune I had grown up on, been so desperate to leave as soon as I could, I never thought I would return. It was by no means an eternal Woodstock, but rather a ranch with few rules and many members. The faces were in a constant wave of change, vagrants took advantage of the camps arms open, hearts open mentality, but a few people had been there constantly since I found myself at the porch of Mr. McMartin. The man who held the biggest place in my mind was Carl Corbin, or The Captain as he had always wanted to be called. As luck would have it, The Captain was the first person who was alerted to my presence as I found myself wandering the familiar commune. Little dorms circled around gardens and fire pits, and the overwhelming smell of the honeysuckle vines covering the buildings drowned out the farm animal stench that wafted in from over the hills. The ranch itself was huge, and people who stayed very long were expected to earn their keep in the hills of Peace camp, doing whatever odd jobs necessary to keep the place up and running. The result was a peaceful, organic environment, with the sounds of children running and laughing intermingling with quiet music and the calls of animals in the distance. The sounds and smells and sights of this place jettisoned me back to a simpler time 5 years prior when all I wanted to do was leave. It was a big slice of karma that landed me here again, now realizing the beauty of camp. It was right then, as I was reeling in the memories, when I felt a strong hand land on my forearm. “Well look who found his-self back here at the farm! Been many a plow stroke, boy, and nary a letter to be found between!” The Captain had found his way over to me and was now greeting me in the way only he could. Growing up, my campmates and I would swap stories over fires and garden plots conjecturing where The Captain came from. Was he a pirate, an Irishman, a lunatic, or a poet? No one knew, but his unique dialect and grizzled appearance could weave propositions for eternity. I turned to him and smiled. He looked exactly the same as he did when I had left, like time overlooked him. It was another cheery anomaly of the ranch, people never aged. I would like to think that when people are truly at peace, their soul remains young, and their body is left in limbo. The Captain looked 65, with leathered skin, salt and pepper hair, and a cloudy left eye that added to his mystique, although no matter how many times the kids would ask, he would say “I’m as old as the soil I plow, and as long as I treat it good, it returns the favor.” “Hi, Captain. It has been a long time, hasn’t it? But,” I raised the bag in my hand in emphasis “camp is always going to be home. That’s what they always say, right?” It was true, from the minute you first set foot in the camp, its well-known you are always welcome back with open arms. I was grateful for that right about now; I was yearning for the place I could breathe easily like I once did. “That’s no tall tale for ya, that’s for sure and all! Come and sit, have youself a pint and a puff, fancy man. Tell me of yer travelin.” I was happy to oblige his offer, and soon I found myself leaned against a well-worn stump sipping a beer. The Captain filled a pipe to the brim with whatever he smoked today, and soon was ready to talk. The Captain was always ready to talk. “So what have ya gone and done to youself. Runt off with a lass half a decade ago and we nary hear from ya atall. Figurt ya been havin the time of ya young life, makin yer magic and moolah and maybe a youngin or three, but seens as ya got one bag and not a little skittler in sight, I must be a mistaken man. Have ya been to the moon, or are ya too good for we “smelly hippie peoples” tat ya were yellin to the gods about when ya left to drop us a declaration of your health?” His question was pointed enough to make me grimace. I had left in a loud mess, promising to go off and “be normal”; I had met Lindsey, a beautiful woman with promises galore, and the lure of suburbia was strong enough for me to cut ties with the only family I had ever known. I had bounced from homeless shelter to street corner before I finally found myself at the camp, and I had gotten spoiled to the life of the commune. No one looked down on me, I was given respect and work and a place to stay. It was amazing how little regard I had held for it once Lindsey convinced me that this was no real life to live. For a woman I had met at community college, her attitude suggested she already had a plan to better than everyone else. Her aloof charm had snagged my interest, and I proved myself malleable enough to earn her love. She had visited the camp once with me and made it clear that it was the only time. “Glen, those are not people, they’re animals. The kids don’t wear shoes, the men don’t have teeth, the women don’t wear bras, and nobody uses deodorant as far as I could tell. I don’t care what they told you they were, that’s a camp of Druggies and Do-Nothings, and I can’t tell my parents that you go back to Manson Land on holiday. Something has to give here, and don’t expect it to be my standards. You deserve better than that, whatever that is.” She lectured me with a faux air of concern and a tender grip on my hand. The manipulation rang in my ears now as I surveyed the camp. Sure, everyone here was cut from the roughest cloth, and maybe drugs and laziness were just threads of the fabric that held them here, but that same fabric was eager to become a blanket of warmth or a tablecloth to a stranger. No person here was ever in need, and I had never seen someone unhappy longer than due. That is, except for me. I felt my exit from the camp needed to be unforgettable, a show for Lindsey as I piled my few belongings into her car. I hurled condescension and insult to anyone who had ever set foot through that iron gate, and without so much as second look I slammed the door and drove off. “Look at them, Glen! Just smiling and waving. That’s how you know they aren’t right. They’re acting like they’ll see you again, like it’s some vacation.” Of course, everyone knows how those stories end. Lindsey didn’t like parts of me, and the more I changed to her model, the less I felt alive. And now I was back, and the thought of her chastising them, wishing me well off on my way, it made me scowl into the beer I was downing. “You know, Captain, you probably know the whole story. It’s the same one you’ve heard a thousand times from people who leave here mad and come back sad.”   “Oh, don’t beat youself up too bad boy, every robin sings the same song, but they all still fly into a fookin window once in they lives. The important thing is ya know where the glass is now.” I laughed and his eyes danced. He made things seem easy, and his advice was unforgettable as always. The Captain played many roles to the people in camp, one of the last people alive who remembered Collin McMartin, the farmer who left his ranch to the camp before passing. Now The Captain acted as a sort of an overseer, mostly to the crops and cattle, but also as a man of the people. From minister to medicine man, you could assign a title to The Captain and it would seem as if he had always worn that hat. All his abilities added to his mystique, a relic from the time when a Jack Of All Trades was alive and well. He leaned forward to me with a sneaky leer. “Boy, we all had our share of beauties come and try to straighten our spines and clean up our livers. But ya know what this old man has learnt? Thaint a single one of them ladies want us for what we gonna be til times old. Thas why ya find youself here again. But thas aboot nuff talk of the past and poor. Why don’t ya find youself a bed to sleep in. things mightn’t of changed but a smidge, and ya still got a place to lay yer head.” He winked and started to toss logs into a familiar stone ring. “We’s gonna have to have a bit of a get em all to celebrate ya comin to yer senses.” I smiled and started to wander off toward the blank, but was stopped by The Captain clearing his throat. “And, eh, boy.” He walked close and placed a loving hand on my shoulder. “Clear ya head of all that garbage she tolt ya aboot us and youself and everything else. If she saids ya were anyting less than perfect, well thas 4 horses worth of shit in a 2 horse stall. Thaint any point in wastin yer time in the past. Whats done is jus that, and naught a bit more. Yer home now, and thas that. Ya best be brining yer ass down there in a jiff though.” With that, I walked off towards my old bunk, feeling lighter with each step. I walked through the doorway and was overwhelmed with emotion. Nothing had been touched, nothing had been moved. They all knew I would be back. The only addition was a tiny pillow, embroidered and placed on my pillow. I picked it up with misty eyes and read the mantra it declared, summing up everything I knew. “May your lovers be frisky, may your trials be few, may your drinks be whisky, may your heart be renewed.”

#coming of age #humor #writing