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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

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Wild Horses

Part 4

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: I hope y’all like this chapter and I apologize if it took long! Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts. Don't be afraid to stop by and say hi and if there are any ideas you guys would like to have in this story, just let me know! And as always, I hope you lovelies have a beautiful day! 💜💜💜 Also I apologize if some of the tags don't go through, I make sure to add each and every one of you lovelies but the tagging system here sucks ass.

Story Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Chapter Summary: 🎶Don't be suspicious.🎶

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, mentions of sexual themes

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂Simon Riley. Simon MOTHERFUCKING Riley. The only man to exist that has managed to accomplish aggravating you in every possible way imaginable. For a woman known to have a great deal of patience, he sure as hell didn’t even need to lift a finger to break that record. Might as well put him in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘The Most Stubborn Asshole Man Alive’ because you’re pretty sure if you looked up the words stubborn and asshole in a dictionary, his face would pop up.

🍂All you did was help stitch him up from a gunshot wound that could’ve gone way south if not done correctly. And when you tell him to come to you if he has any injures or illnesses because you want to help him, what does he do? What does this asshole of a man do? Insults you! Right to your face! I mean sure it wasn’t a direct insult nor were any of his words particularly insulting, but it was still rude and it offended you.

🍂“Meh don’ bother. I’m a big tough dummy and I eat rocks and tea for breakfast. I don’ need your help.” You mock with a shake of your head and a widened stance, mimicking both the voice and stature of the masked English soldier. The little ‘altercation’ had left you nearly fuming, pushing you to go outside to get some of that chilly night air in order to cool off. “I bet you use Gorilla Glue on all your wounds and call it a day.” You scoff, returning to your original posture. You better pray Ghost isn't lurking around somewhere unless you want your ass beat.

🍂Your dad had always taught you kindness and patience, being the down-to-earth soul he was, but boy was this man absolutely testing the everlasting shit out of you. You almost had to mutter out a small apology in your father’s honor for the obscene and colorful language that fell from your lips. But the more you thought about the absolute 6'4 idiot of a man, the more you became frustrated over it. All that body mass and not a single ounce of a brain. How he has managed to come this far without dying of an infection, you have no clue.

“Hope you like that fucking sour apple Dum-Dum you lollipop thief. You’re lucky I don’t dye your stupid mask pink.” You don't know what came in you in that heated moment but next thing you know you were practically planning your funeral and writing a will of your inheritance for your cat back home. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't do, it's kicking a random metal can just lying around on the street. Let's just say you were fucked because the sound that came out of you was equivalent to the screeching of a dying narwhal. The way the throbbing in your big toe had you clutching the wall and wheezing like a fish reeled right out of the water begging the creator for mercy was enough to produce some sweat out of you. And just your luck, as if the night couldn’t get any worse, Price had heard the noise and went to investigate it. Shouldn't this man have better things to do?

The face you pulled would have risen some concern from your colleagues back at the hospital in the states, a widened smile and pain-filled eyes, and you can’t help but to thank the poorly lit lamp streets for obstructing it. You swear you feel like your head is about to explode from the way you tried to keep it all together. But as Price asked if you were alright, looking over your stiffened and awkward stance, one hand out on the wall and your injured foot crossed over the other, all you could do was nod frantically and let out a wheezed ‘Yup. Finer than frog hair split four ways’. You pray that he doesn’t think you’re constipated or something from the strain in your voice. Coward. I would have faked a fall and had him carry me over the threshold.

Price of course doesn’t get American lingo and has no clue what the fuck you just said but takes it as a yes. Just you wait till he goes back in and tells the others what he heard. The man practically opens up the computer and searches up the phrase that you uttered just to find the meaning, all while the others crowd around. And after scrolling through a bunch of different articles involving different American slang, they collectively decide to learn a bunch of them in order to communicate with you. I lied. Because literally from this day forth, they randomly spit out different words and phrases just to tease your American accent. Actually Soap is the only one who does that………….just Soap.

Anyways……..

When Price finally closes the door behind him, you’re back to gritting your teeth and cursing at the pain in your toe and blaming it for your misfortunes, waiting a couple minutes so as to not run into the captain or the others before hurrying limping back into the building and into your room.

What did I tell ya. Should have just asked for Price to carry you back.

After inspecting your toe as what felt to be broken, you were glad to find out that it was just a grade 1 sprain. As painful as it was, for a successful recovery all it needed was some ice, taping, drugs, and a lot of rest. Rest......right. Like you were gonna get any of that.

Should've just reported it to Price.

Guess you can add one more injury to your list of things that are in the process of healing. The men come back from the mission bloodied and bruised with gunshot wounds, and you…….well you sprain your toe from trying to kick a can of beans or whatever the hell that stupid metal cylinder was filled with.

As if you weren't stressed enough before. Now you had to worry about hiding this tiny injury from the rest of the team to prevent them worrying about you. Also because you don’t want them to start asking questions about how it happened in the first place and find out that a can of beans was the culprit behind it. Hm, sounds a lot like someone else.

When you finally laid in bed that night, drugged out on melatonin and pain killers and wearing an oversized tee and a pair of shorts, you couldn’t stop drumming your fingers against your stomach, your injured foot propped up on a pillow with your big toe wrapped and taped up looking like you borrowed Fred Flintstone’s foot. Now just how were you going to hide that? It’s not like you can just grab a pair of those circus clown shoes or an orthopedic boot or some crutches and hope no one notices. And while you stared up at the ceiling, the drumming of your fingers coming to a stop as you contemplated on the idea while waiting to crash out from the melatonin you took, there is only one thing left that came to mind. So, in one swift motion, you grab the spare pillow closest to you and scream into it. A really long, really shrill scream that would have put the banshees to shame. Yup. You can now say you had officially reached your breaking point.

And what happens when you’re stressed? You have strange dreams, like really strange dreams. I’m talking weird vivid outlandish shit that feel too real kind of dreams. Because when you wake up the next morning, sweat beaded at your forehead, you can only think about the very explicit dream you had last night. The one involving you and the team and a series of very……………how can I say this, rated porn shit. It all felt real, too fucking real, because when you move your legs over to hang off the side of the bed, there’s a tenderness there and well………….everything else that comes with it.

“Yo what the actual fucking shit.” You groan, resting your elbows onto your thighs as you shove your face into your hands and rub at your forehead and cheeks.

How the hell were you going to face the team after waking up from something like that? You could almost paint a picture of the entire sequence as if it just happened, and boy was the image going to be burned into the back of your mind like the searing of a branding iron.

You were embarrassed just thinking about it. Every time you closed your eyes, you were reminded of the way their hands and lips roamed every inch of your body, the way their skin almost burned against yours, the stubble of their facial hair grazing against the sensitive skin that lined your inner thighs and the wetness of their tongues, the sounds of their low grunts and moans that escaped from deep within their chests that mingled with your soft ones as their heated breaths fanned your neck, the sharp smell of metal that paired with the rhythmic swaying of their dog tags as they dangled above you with each movement, and the pulling sensation in the pit of your stomach after reaching your high with each of them.

And then there was Ghost, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, the way he looked you over with disgust while you were on your back when each of them hovered over you. And when he finally stood in front of you, when there seemed to be no one else, glaring down at you from under that mask of his, and uttering one single phrase, 'you harlot of a tart', you woke up. Typical ole Ghost. An asshole in reality and an asshole in dreams.

You needed air, a shower, and a change of clothes, desperately. Price had given you the day off when you finished patching the men up last night. And that is exactly what you were going to do. But first you needed to clean yourself up, preferably with holy water if there was any, and then........well...you needed to get out of this building and get some fresh air because what in the 60s psychedelic orgy was that.

Lazily getting up from your bed, you quickly tie your tangled hair up in a simple bun and slide on a pair of slippers over your fuzzy socks, throwing on your plush Grogu and Mandalorian patterned robe over your sleeping clothes and pulling the hood of your robe over your head to provide extra warmth. Today was a much needed day off after the shit storm that was yesterday. As part of your regular morning routine on the days you didn't work, you grab your other mug that you finally found after rummaging through your things; the one shaped like the head of Kermit the Frog and decide to make yourself a cup of coffee to wake yourself up first and foremost.

Making sure to balance your weight on your uninjured foot, you wobble over to the kitchen, your empty mug in hand and your bottle of pain pills in the other that rattled slightly every time you dragged your feet across the floor. Your eyes tear up as you let out a long and dragged out yawn, squinting in the process which prevents you from seeing just what you were walking into as you place your mug on the countertop with a high-pithed clink.

If you thought today was going to have some mercy on your poor soul........................well you're wrong. Because while you have your back turned to the dining table behind you as you try to start up the coffee machine, you had forgotten that the thing was still broken in the first place, and also the fact that you live with five, now six, other men, and their eyes were now all on you. Girl if you don't turn your ass around-

"Mornin-"

"Sweet baby Jesus!" You nearly jump a foot into the air, spinning around in a frenzy with a wild look to see that the whole crew had been at the dining table the entire time and that you weren’t the only one scared out of their wits.

Did you just say ‘sweet baby Jesus?’ They haven’t heard that one before.

You stare wide-eyed in fright at the men seated at the table, your hair a mess and your heart so close to bursting out of your ribcage you swear you'd have to chase after it as you clutch the counter behind you.

There is an obvious awkward silence in the air as everyone stares at the inharmonious mess that is you and your startled state, curiously eyeing the large Grogu ears that were attached to the sides of the hood of your Star Wars plush robe and your bare calves that peeked out from underneath the hem down to your fuzzy socks that had cats all over it. You're practically following their eyes as they look over to your bottle of pills and your Kermit mug on the counter beside you before looking back at you. Oh to be able to read what went through their heads.

Despite your clashing wardrobe that made him question your taste in attire, there was one thing Ghost had focused on more, one that was obvious to those who knew it, a dainty tattoo of the unmistakable silhouette of a rose along the side of your calf. Was that the same rose off of Depeche Mode's 'Violator' album cover? It sure was, because right in the center of the stem where the rose was cut off, were the words 'violator' in cursive. Be still his heart. Is this man planning a proposal and your entire wedding? He was almost curious to find out what other bands or artists you listened to. Maybe he'll sneak a peek at your playlist-

"Howdy! You eh...........ya look worn slap out......I reckon." Soap smiles, trying to mimic the southern American accent but failing miserably, which only earns a round of groans of agitation at the table as the team roll their eyes. All but König of course, he's just as clueless as you are. He wasn't there when the team were searching up American slang.

You-what? The hell is this man on about?

"Jesus-" Price rolls his eyes at Soap's antics as he goes to take a sip of his coffee.

"......................" You're still mute. Your eyes dart between each of them, your thoughts only replaying the pornographic images of your dream as this sudden irrational fear begins to develop that they might be able to get a glimpse of your thoughts. Make a run for it-

"................Ye awright there wee lass? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally." Soap's smile drops.

You're lookin a bit what?

"Mate, shut up." Gaz whispers to Soap after noticing your disconcerted expression. It was making him nervous, no doubt, and the fact that you weren't saying anything only made it worse.

The whole team were practically waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was stare. Girl either you say something or just take your clothes off and let them have you right then and there on the dining table, bandaged toe and everything if your dream distracts you that much-

"Guten morgen schatz (good morning love)." König sent a wave in your direction to try to ease the tension only to drop his hand back down after seeing that you did not respond. Poor dude is worried you’ve fallen ill and is practically sitting on the edge of his seat, analyzing every detail of your body language and ready to leap to your rescue in case you show any signs of falling unconscious.

Even Ghost couldn't stop the annoyed sigh/huff that escaped, shaking his head at the uncomfortable and nuisance of a situation as he took a sip of his tea, the motion catching your attention. That is when you first noticed that he had the lower half of his mask lifted up to his nose. Was this the first you had seen of part of his face? You found yourself tracing over the outline of his jaw and the cool-toned, medium blonde stubble the color of pale sand after a storm that lined the skin there, following along the curves of his lips and noticing the small scar that traveled down until his words from your dream echoed in your head, the same lips that said to you 'you harlot of a tart'. And as you lifted your gaze to his eyes, you found them narrowing at you. Shit.

"There's uh.......there's a cuppa coffee for you in the fridge there." Price nods towards the fridge near you, hoping that would snap you out of whatever trance you are in. I mean if you don't want it, I'll take it.

"....................." You had this overwhelming urge to puke and the last thing you wanted was to unload your stomach's contents of microwaved pasta right in front of everyone.

"Eh....estas bien amor? (you alright love?)" Alejandro's words pull you out of your thoughts. Oh what I would give to have this man ask me if I'm alright-

Bitch just say something-

“Блядь (fuck).��

Wha-what? That’s not what I meant-

The men quickly give each other a glance from the side of their eye. Did you just blurt something in Russian?

".................sorry what?” You squint with a scrunch of your nose, pulling the collar of your robe over your braless chest as a faint heat rose to your cheeks, utterly terrified to look them in the eye lest you'd get flashbacks. Should've just made a run for it when you first saw them-

More silence, nonexistent chirping of crickets that makes you want to crawl into a hole and decompose. Then there is the sound of someone slurping. Who-NOW WHO'S SLURPING?

"Sorry." Gaz utters a quick apology, dragging his tongue over his lips as he places his cup of tea down on the table.

"The coffee machine is broken love." Price adds.

"I know that." You state with a blink, startling the men on how quickly you suddenly respond as if nothing happened as you shove your bottle of pills in the pocket of your robe before unplugging the machine from the wall and tucking it under your arm.

The team can't help but watch as you leave the area with your mug in hand and the coffee machine in the other, each of them as confused as the next. What in the-

"What the bloody hell was that?" Price blurts out.

"Don' know. Anyone know what's the matta' with her?" Gaz watches you go with concern in his brow.

"Ah dinnae ken." Soap shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Ah think some nugget-lavvy-heid meid her up tae high doh."

"Mate," Gaz rubs his face. "English-"

"Ah said." Soap translates. "Ah think some eejit has riled her up."

The way Ghost nearly snaps his head to glare at the Scot. Why does he have a feeling he was talking about him in particular? There's absolutely no fucking way-Wait. The lollie. The fucking sour apple lollie. Was that some kind of an insult?

"Well that's a load of rubbish." Price comments. "If ye ask me, she's just knackered from mending yer sorry arses up."

The way Soap, Alejandro, König, and Ghost glare at him.

"Yeh but......why'd she take the coffee maker?"

"She's prolly gonna give it a fix." Gaz answers Soap's questions with a shrug.

Soap sits back in his seat with a pause, pondering on what Gaz had just said before turning to him with a confused look. ".................but ah thowght she's a doctor."

"Fuckin' hell Soap."

By the time that you return to your room, slamming the door behind you, you're already cussing yourself out for acting the way you did back there. Now they definitely were going to think that something was wrong with you. And if they did, what would you say? That you had a dream y'all were playing multiplayer adult twister? No. HELL NO. You'd almost prefer them to think you were a spy and take you out-and I don't mean take you out as in dinner, I mean take you out as in a firing squad take you out. All the waterboarding and the fingernail-pulling in the world could not pry that info out of you. If only that dream did not affect you as much, if only.

Hm. You know what, maybe Ghost IS to blame in all of this. You only get wacky dreams when you're stressed. After all, he was the one who got under your skin, not Soap, not Gaz, nor Price, definitely not Konig, and not even Alejandro.

There was only one other person who ever managed to get on your nerves the first time you got to know them, only one person who never failed to make you roll your eyes every time they opened their mouth: your ex. But even then, at least the two of you got along no matter the snarky comments you made towards each other. And as annoying as he was at times, he always found a way to bring a smile onto your face no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Ghost on the other hand, well…….he’s something else alright. This man literally has you wanting to rip your own hair out and hike to the Himalayas to seek some kind of therapy yourself.

"God I'm such an idiot." You growl between clenched teeth, tossing the coffee machine into the trash before limping around your room with your hands on your hips. You definitely needed to get out of the building or else you just might go mad. And with the men there who just witnessed you at your most vulnerable and natural self, the last thing you wanted was to be within their vicinity. Changing out of your sleeping pajamas, you threw on an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats, grabbing one of your beanies and tucking your hair into it before throwing on a pair of sneakers. You’re already cracked out on pain meds so you might as well run a few errands while you're out, as well as grab a new coffee machine because god knows that's the only thing that keeps you sane these days. You’re so caught up in the process of rushing to get the hell out of there that you fail to notice the masked soldier standing right beside your door a foot away.

“Holy fucking-!” You jump in your skin, hand clutching your chest once you notice Ghost leaning against the wall in the same exact stance like in your dream. Jesus fucking Christ. “Ghost! I uh did not see you there. You nearly had me rushing to the hospital for heart failure haha.” You laugh nervously through your teeth, trying to maintain your polite manners as to not anger the contracted killer. What the hell is he doing here and what does he want? Sending the man a polite smile in hopes that he would just go about his business, you pull your keys out of your pocket, the jingling of the metal making up for the extreme silence that filled the dusty air between the two of you.

“………………………”

Jesus fucking christ. He's just standing there isn't he-

"Uh. Can I help you?” You ask, turning to the man who only stared in your direction, as still as an unused puppet. Only he seems to ALWAYS have something up his ass. At least a puppet talks.

Damn that fuckin politeness of yours, Ghost thought to himself. “......................You're bein’ dodgy." He did not like the way you were acting back there. It was as if you were hiding something. And being the person he was, he found it suspicious.

Oh if he were to see the reason behind it. You're pretty sure it would make his mask blush.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You press your lips together, fixating on your keys in your hands as you try to lock your door.

"Your behavior. You're up to something."

Ah yes. Good ole Ghost. Trusting no one but himself, the little shit-

"Says the one standing right outside my room." You mutter to yourself, cursing under your breath at the way you fumbled your keys and were unable to lock your door due to how he glared at you as if you had put salt instead of sugar in the queen's tea. You bet your bottom you probably looked like a shmuck struggling with something as simple as locking the fucking door. If this dumbo doesn't scram-

"Come again?"

This man was really starting to get on one of your last nerves. “What? Didn't anyone ever tell you it’s rude to lurk outside a lady’s door? You can get your ass tased for some shit like that.” You snark before letting out a quick breath of air at finally getting your key in the lock. One step closer to getting the hell out.

There it is, the real you. Ghost almost can't help the way a slight amusement builds within him at watching you get riled up like this, the faintest hairline of a smirk begging to pull at the corner of his mouth. But despite his little fragment of entertainment from the show of emotion he had managed to string out from you, he had to remind himself the real reason he was here. “The hell are you up to?”

“Nunya.”

“Nunya?” Ghost narrows his eyes, not sure what you were getting at and at the same time not liking where this was going. He swears if this is one of your little tricks-

“Nunya damn beeswax that’s what.”

“What-“ Ghost straightens himself off the wall, hands lowered to his sides. Okay now you were just annoying.

“How was the sour apple lollipop?” You remark, not being able to hold back the snide comment that slipped from your lips. You prayed he would get the meaning behind your little 'token of gratitude' from last night.

You should not have said that-

Bitch I’d become a track star in the fraction of a second-

“You-“ Ghost takes a step towards you but stops from the way you whip your head towards him.

“I know you did it, you little burglar. What, you think I wouldn’t notice that some fish-and-chips-eating crackpot was ransacking my lollipop stash?”

Da foq did you just call him? Ghost is stupefied as he stands there blinking at you, hands ever so slightly tensing. How the bloody hell did you find out? Did you know about the apples as well? Please don't know about the apples- And as he tries to open his mouth to say something, you don't even give him a chance.

“You know, for someone that is known to be stealthy and whatnot, you sure do leave a mess of your Sephora eyeshadow everywhere.”

Oh now you’ve definitely popped a nerve.

“What? You gonna stab me?” You quirk a brow at watching him tense up. “Please, be my guest. Just make sure it’s quick and that I’m officially dead so my student debt disappears.”

Bitch don’t give him a reason tf-

Jesus you talk a bloody lot when you’re nervous, Ghost looks at you confused as he cocks his head back. Well he sure didn’t expect that answer. Doesn't change the fact that he's pissed though.

“You know, you should be glad I didn’t write your Skeletor ass up for not only neglecting medical treatment but also stealing my damn treats.”

“Ye’ve got some nerve ye little tosser-“ Ghost grabs you by your upper arm and yanks you to him as he glares down at you.

Your poor toe-

“Ow! Someone outta teach you some manners.” You sputter, surprised from his sudden and forceful movement. And yet, you can’t help but find yourself flustered at being manhandled no matter how much you tried to preserve your vexation towards him. Ohhh, were you attracted to this? Wait, am I attracted to this???? Nah-

“Yer a real pain in the arse you know that.” Ghost can’t help but to roll his eyes, knowing damn well he did not handle you that roughly to begin with, despite your reaction.

But you and I know it’s just your toe-

“Yeah no shit. I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes in a dramatic manner. “But if you wanna be real, you’re like a bad hemorrhoid if we’re being honest.”

Did you just-

“Whot the bloody hell did yuh just call me?” Ghost snarls as he yanks you even closer to him, your chest bumping into his. Did you just call him a fucking hemorrhoid?

The jerky movement elicits a small gasp from your lips, pried right out of your lungs before you glare back at him with as much as you can muster; your jaw clenched, brows drawn together, and your eyes shooting straight up into his even more menacing ones. You try not to think about those nonexistent slander of words he uttered to you. Dream or not, that shit hurt. And as you think back to the dream you had, you were swiftly brought back to the circumstance right in front of you, immediately aware of the lack of distance between the two of you and the way your chest was pressed up against his.

A heat starts to form in the pit of your stomach, slowly making its way from your core and unfurling out to every inch of your skin, like being brushed over with a velvety feather under the warmth of the sun. His grip on your arm is almost revering if it weren't for its threatening nature as you stare up at him, and you swear you could feel the subtlest shift in his fingers through the thick fabric of your hoodie from the way his thumb ever so slightly grazes across. Your sharp gaze softens, admiring the way the sun's rays from the nearby window lit up his lashes like wisps of gold, like the feathers of an oriole bird soaring over the deep brown valleys that resemble his eyes.

He smelled like last night’s whiskey, a hint of the cigarette he smoked this morning, and his cologne that smells of sandalwood and pine trees. It’s almost refreshing. And in this moment, you don’t even care that you literally look like a teenage boy with your hair tucked into your beanie, wearing a pair of converse and your vans baggie hoodie and sweats. There was only one thing on your mind, one thing only.

“Let go of me.” The only words you managed to breathe out.

“Or what?"

“…………..I’ll scream.”

*cue Princess Leia's theme*

Kiss him. *insert Emperor Palpatine voice* Do it-

You found yourself burning for this innate desire, this need for him to push you against the wall and have his way with you, to have him lift the bottom of his mask and feel his lips on yours, traveling down to the angle of your jaw and your neck and just about everywhere there was you, all of you. Simon had noticed this sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your biceps loosened under his fingers through the course fabric of his gloves, the way your lashes fluttered against the ridges and deep ravines of your irises as you stared up at him with a far-off look that yet seemed so close. Were you-no, can't be.

The way you looked under him appeared to lure him in, not to mention your scent, that same perfume that seemed to have dug its claws into him since the moment he first met you. His eyes now lowered to your parted lips as he found himself focusing on their shape and the short shallow breaths that drifted through, wondering about how they'd feel, their softness, their taste. And as his head lowered just the smallest inch towards you, he noticed once more the small circular scar on the side of your neck. Only this time, he was finally able to make out what it was, and it reminded him too much of his own past. How that scar came about to form on your skin, he had no clue. But it was none of his concern, he had to tell himself. Clenching his jaw, Ghost drew himself back, once again returning to that cold and forbidding presence that was there before.

Actually it’s a good thing you didn’t try to score a smooch. You’d probably just get WWE body-slammed-

“Can I go now?” You clear your throat. “I’ve got chickens to tend to and errands to run.”

"What errands?"

"Why? You gonna help me pick out some zucchinis?" You cock your head back. "Now if you could release that lego grip of yours I'd appreciate it."

Ghost lets out a hmph, the only thing he can do despite his frustration as he loosens his grip just as you tear your arm away from him.

“Thank you." You give him a condescending smile before reaching into your tote bag to grab something while Ghost watches you intently, hoping it’s not another lollie. Lies. Y'all know he wants one-

“Here are your blood results by the way since you refused to stop by my office to go over them.” You slap the papers onto his chest, which earns you another glare from him. “So don’t come whining to me when you don’t understand a thing it says on there.” You snark one last time before heading off to the front entrance.

"Oh and another thing." You turn back around. "I'd cut down on the smoking and drinking if I were you."

All Ghost could do was watch you walk off with the slightest stomp in your step before breathing out a “Fuckin h-“

“Goddamn son a bitch.” You grit your teeth, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie once you step out of the building. You swear that man goes out of his way to annoy the everlasting shit out of you. “Fucking shitbag cumguzzler ass-OH MY GOD!”

You stop suddenly at the sound of a small animal, your eyes wide and mouth hung open as you look towards the ground to see a tiny tabby kitten trotting in your direction from the bushes, it's tail fluffed straight up in the air as it was excited to see you.

“Hi there little guy.” You coo at the small ginger ball of fur making its way towards you before bending down and reaching a hand out. "What're you doing here all by yourself huh?"

The kitten stares at your outstretched hand, giving it a sniff before finally rubbing its head against your palm with its eyes shut. You almost had to bite your tongue from the squeal that just ripped out of your throat. I lied. You did squeal.

“Ahhh omg." Your smiled, your heart swelling at seeing the kitten warm up to you as it came up even closer and lifted its tiny paws to rest up on your bent knees. It was as if you had completely forgotten the mayhem that was today, as if it was just you and this tiny kitten and no one else.

"Oh you’re coming home with me.” You carefully pick up the kitten with both your hands before cradling it against your chest, stroking your tired fingers through its soft and yet dusty fur.

“Mew.” The kitten let out another meow, the small rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours as his pupils widened, nearly blackening out his pale yellow irises as he stared up at you.

“You know what." You gasp. "I shall call you Spot." (Kudos if you know where the name is from.)

“Mew”

“You don't have any siblings hiding out in the bushes ready to jump me and steal my credit cards do ya?"

“Mew.”

“Shit.” You mutter out, your smile dropping as a realization comes to you. How the hell were you going to hide the kitten?

Tag List: @swissy23 @sualocin @kristalhi @deakyspuff @sometimes-i-write-good @hamilfanyu @princessranch @ig-you-idiot @obitoshotaf @cavern-creature @at0mschutzbunker @eddiesbixch696 @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @jocecymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @aloudplace @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff @notabotiswear @thecraziestcrayon @lilwingedwolfy @sprkthere @shyyxzi @bookmark-anon @simplecole18 @itsourkisses-blog @here4thespice @sunndust @josephquinnswhore @spooniscute @xghostyx666 @nikolai-m-s @he4rtbloss0m @classifiedtoe @killergoddessmm @sm8th0p @lunarayx @iwannabeazoldyck @butterflypillows @lobeliaaaaaa @mxtokko

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arcielee · 1 year

Text

Each Coming Night

Summary: Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 2870 Warnings: Smutty smut, smidgen of knife play, fingering, oral (female receiving), some spanking, p in v. Author's Note: Okay, this took a minute because I literally was unsure what the fuck to do next with this depravity. It was supposed to be a smutty one shot and now it is finding a full arc. Thank you for much to @f4ll-for-you because your feedback and editing has helped me with this entire series. There will be 5 parts and I hope you all enjoy! Tags (kindred spirits): @glitterandgoldfinds @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @fan-goddess @welcometothelioncage @hueanhdang (it won’t let me tag you??) Series: Call It Dreaming

This cannot be happening to me.

This was your thought when the timer on your phone had gone off and you looked to see two pink lines glaring back.

This is a false positive, a defective strip, you reason, throwing it into the trash and retreating to the kitchen to refill the mason jar you were using to hydrate.

At first you rolled your eyes when your roommate, Emma, made a comment about how your diva cup was only collecting dust as of late, but when you checked your calendar you realized that your cycle was, in fact, late. You purchased the test-a pack of three, actually-from the corner mart for peace of mind, reminding yourself that the only way for you to be pregnant would be to actually have sex or immaculate conception, which made the latter plausible since you were not fucking anyone.

Or fucking anyone within this reality.

You felt your chest tightened with the damn intrusive thought that spoke boldly from the back of your mind. Your sleeping schedule felt irreparable as of late, with you only having two solid nights of sleep that left you aching in the most delightful way the following day.

You felt crazy and you were certain you could not speak it out loud to anyone-how would you even describe these lucid, sexy dreams? You assumed it came from the stress of the semester, these graduate level courses particularly grueling as you worked towards your masters; you used to appreciate being a recluse, the burden of your coursework and internship damn near suffocating, but you were finding it difficult to focus on anything as of late.

There was a time when you were able to turn your brain on automation and be able to retain whatever your professors spewed, dive into assignments with an outline in hand, and be able to finish projects before their due date.

Instead, you were consumed by this ache in your core that could not be resolved by any means available within the 21st century.

Then you dreamed of him again, Aemond fucking Targaryen, and it was just as delicious as the first time, fulfilling a satisfaction that you were grieving the prior day, assuming it was lost forever. It was unlike any dream you ever had and you remembered a tone of sadness when he said the words, “I imagine you will leave me again.”

You had, of course, woken up in your bed with that same delicious ache between your thighs and naked. Damn, I liked that dress, your mind thought as you were quick to check yourself in your mirror, just like last time.

There were love bites that trailed your neckline and you could see the bruises from his grip on your hips.

It did not make sense.

Your mind was in a fog and you would tread through each day listlessly. Whatever the lie you convinced yourself of before had faded into nothing, your only motivation was to be done with your degree and even that was clouded by the impending student debt. At night, you pined for your subconscious to return you to Westeros but instead you had a few hours of a fitful sleep each night.

There was an unexpected release when you found yourself returning to a passion you had not felt in years.

It began one afternoon, during a particularly long lecture, when you were enticed by the vacant space on the lined paper you meant to use for your notes; your pen was intentional with every stroke, flitting across the page, desperate to capture the sharp angles of his face…

“I appreciate your rapt attention, but class is over.”

You looked up to see the room was nearly empty, with a few students filling out, and your professor watching you, holding his bag and waiting for you to exit.

You were quick to throw everything into your backpack and return to your apartment, to your room, where you dug out an old sketch book you purchased years ago. You retrieved the notes from the class and saw the beginnings of Aemond’s portrait peering back; you had been complimented often for your drawings, but your family was apt to remind you the impracticality of an art degree and had been appalled at your suggestion at having no degree.

You could not place the blame on them entirely; you eventually shelved your passion and enrolled in a university you knew would make them proud.

And clearly the pressure of all this had cracked your brain entirely, since you suffered from a fucked up insomnia and found only a fictional prince from Westeros could get you off these days.

You groaned when the timer on your phone brought your attention back to see the two tests on the bathroom sink, both with two lines of pink mocking you. You threw them in the trash and piled toilet paper on top to hide them.

Fuck me. You sighed and washed your hands, peering at your reflection in the mirror. The love bites had faded away and you just looked tired, which was an understatement as you had not slept well this semester save those two nights in King’s Landing.

You returned to your room and threw yourself on the bed, eventually moving to rest your chest on the back of your hand and looking to see the growing collection of drawings and sketches that you began to pin on your wall. All were different mediums, pen, pencil, and the occasional charcoal, but each one was the same subject.

Aemond.

He had stirred your muses in a way you thought was lost to you the moment you signed your livelihood to this degree and the career it would entail.

He has stirred more than just your muses, that fucking intrusive thought made your groan and you rolled on your back, grabbing a pillow to smother your scream.

I cannot handle this, you decide, still unable to fathom the madness that you might possibly be pregnant from a sexy dream. Instead, you would sleep, wake up with a clear mind and some sort of idea of what steps to take, or maybe wake to find the news of a massive recall for store bought tests.

You curled beneath your blanket and closed your eyes.

And when you opened them, you were, once again, in his room.

He was not awake, from what you could see. The fireplace had a low, amber light that pooled out onto the stone hearth that stretched in front of the fireplace and towards the empty leather chair. The dark, velvet curtains were tucked in the silver tiebacks and allowed the sea breeze and moonlight to pour into the room.

There were tapers that burned low on his nightstand, casting a golden hue that washed over the sharp angles of his face and highlighting his tranquil expression as he slept. You were slow with your steps as you approached his bedside, your eyes drank in his figure as he laid back against the mattress, the shimmer of his silver locks and how one arm up was tucked behind his pillow while the other rested on his bare chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing.

He was beautiful and you were lost in the moment, your fingertips touching the bed edge and a small sigh that slipped from your lips.

Aemond was too fast for you to comprehend his movements, one moment you admired him as he slept and now he bound out of his bed like a white fury. He was pressed against you, his slender fingers wrapped around your throat and his other hand a white knuckle grip on his dagger, the blade against your throat.

Your eyes were wide as you watched him; his silver hair fell disheveled on his shoulders, his chest heaved with rapid breaths, and as he blinked the sleep away, his lavender eye slowly widened with his comprehension of who he had his hold on.

Aemond released you, throwing the dagger to the side with an echo of metal on the cobblestone floor, and his hands cupped your jaw, bringing you against him for a bruising kiss. Your name spilled like a fervent prayer from his lips, “I did not think you would come back to me.” He pulled back and his eye looked over your face, falling to the side of your neck.

You knew he had cut you and your thighs clenched from the sting, the sea breeze cool against the trickle of blood. You saw the flash of worry dance on his features and your hand rested on his hips, your nails biting into his skin and pulling him close again. “I’m fine, my prince,” you soothed, your face flushed when you dared to tease him. “This has become a part of our foreplay.”

Pleasure coils in your stomach when you see the curl of his lips; he leaned forward to capture your mouth again, his hot tongue pressing in and pulling a moan from the back of your throat. Your hands flitted across the rivets of his abdomen and stopped at his chest, his large hands covering your own and pulling you to the bed. He peels off your clothes, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you onto the edge of the bed.

Goosebumps ripple over you when his warm palms lay on your stomach and move to your hips, pushing you further back on the bed so he can nestle between your thighs. His lips trails the inside of your leg towards your center, then he drags his tongue against your silken folds.

You give a small gasp and can feel him grinning against your cunt, followed by the gentle prod of his fingers that curl into you. There is a wet squelch as the pads of his fingertips press further in you, searching until you mewl his name.

He hums his approval, “Sȳz riña.”

Good girl.

He continues the rapid motion against that sweet spot within you, his head dipping forward and his tongue lavishes you, drinking you in as you become undone. Your hands clamp over your mouth to muffle the mixture of your moans, crying against your palms as his movement continues through your release and continues towards overstimulation. “Aemond,” you gasp and he stops at once.

He is slow to stand, his gaze hard on you and you watch as he begins to unlace his breeches. “Do not cover your mouth when I fuck you,” his tone dark and he crawls on top of you, pushing you further up the bed. “Va jaelan ryptas ao,” his face nuzzles into your neck and you feel the burn of his tongue along the cut.

I want to hear you.

His arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you towards the headboard, pulling until your backside is flush with his warm chest; his mouth is hot as he bites into your neck, sucking, and his tongue leading to your shoulder.

You arc against him, your ass pressing against his cock; he groans, grabbing your hip to slip between the softness of your thighs, slick from your release, and rubbing his length against your swollen lips. You whimper from the friction, your head tilting back against him and his nose presses against your ear, his mouth chewing on your earlobe. His hands trail your side, his fingertips gentle to trail your curves before grabbing into your hip and pulling you roughly against him.

“Sīr rāpa,” he groans in your ear. So soft.

His slender fingers palm your ass, lifting to press his swollen head into your wet warmth; his head falls forward between your shoulder blades and you let out a cry, arching against him again and allowing him to sheath himself fully into you.

Aemond grabs your hip to pull you against him at a bruising pace from behind, hitting the same spot from before. Your thighs are slick and he slips out, but moves you on your stomach. He reaches for a pillow, nudging to tuck it under your lower abdomen, and propping your ass up when you lay back onto it.

Your breathing quickens when you feel his warm hands, one on each cheek, and he pulls you apart slowly, allowing the breeze to tickle your wet heat. “Gevie,” Beautiful, he praises and you can feel the press of his cock against your soaked folds, the delicious stretch as he presses entirely into you.

Your hands grip the sheets and his hands are pressed on your lower back, holding you in place, and you feel the tickle of his silver hair on your backside when he leans forward. “Stop clenching,” you can hear his smug smile. “I wish to enjoy you.”

There is a satisfying wet squelch when he finally ruts his hips against you, hitting a depth within your velvet walls that curls your toes. You can feel his hip bones in the soft flesh of your ass and the crescendo builds easily from his overstimulation; you are breathless, your skin is aflame as you best brace yourself against his thrusts.

His hand moves from his grip on your hip, moving the curve of your ass before lifting his hand for a sharp slap that sends shockwaves of pleasure over your body, once, twice. The sound spills a wanton moan from your lips and a guttural groan escapes the back of his throat.

As your cunt begins to flutter, you bury your face against the mattress and he is quick to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling you back to all fours. You are a mewling mess, tears streaming your cheeks, and his other hand grabs onto your hip, continuing his brutal pace.

“Aemond,” you beg, but unsure what you are begging for. “Aemond, Aemond…”

Your crescendo of pleasure blossomed in your lower abdomen, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that rolled over and you clenching desperately at him. His thrusts grew sloppy and you felt the warmth of his seed spill into you, his cock twitching with his release.

You fall forward and curl on your side, hugging the pillow he propped under your hips and savoring its new scent of sex. Aemond pushes from the bed and moves to an oak table with a basin on top, picking up a cloth and dropping it in. He wrings out the extra water and returns to the bed, sitting on the edge and nudging your knee.

“Open,” he says and your legs spread.

The cloth feels cool in contrast to his touch and he is gentle to wipe you clean before pushing from the bed again. He uses a clean cloth for himself before he curls beneath the covers, eager to bring you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

This gives you a sense of serenity, the feeling of being against the warmth of his chest and the comfort in his embrace. There was nothing comparable in your world to this moment and you feel the threat of tears at the thought. You swallow to hold them back, but he notices and says your name in a low whisper. “What is wrong?”

His tone is genuine, gentle, and you cannot control the tears that spill. “I’m fine, I just wish that,” but what did you wish for? How do you explain that your reality is a suffocation of unwanted responsibility? That your only sense of pleasure is a hobby that your family begs you to forget and to just become another cog in the 21st century?

You blink away the tears, a small smile on your lips when you turn your head to look at him. “I only wish I was able to stay longer with you,” you finally manage.

Aemond hums as he pulls you close, nestling you beneath his chin and his touch gentle as he draws small circles between your shoulder blades. The ministrations lull you to sleep and you wake up to your roommate walking through your bedroom door.

“Hey, slut,” Emma is flippant with her greeting, mostly focused on grabbing her red hair to tie back. “I have to go to the store and I was checking if you need anything. Alex is making me go right now to buy him Pop-Tarts because he thinks I ate all of his, which I did but…” her voice trails off when she finally looks at you. “Holy fuck. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are swollen and red, there is a smear of blood on your neck under your jaw with love bites that decorated beneath and to your shoulders. Her eyes are wide with alarm and she moves to sit on the bed, unfazed that you are very naked. “Hey, did someone hurt you?” You are quick to shake your head. “No, I just,” you struggle with how to explain this, “I, uh, have been seeing someone and it is kind of complicated.”

Emma raised her eyebrow. “How so?” She asks, peering over the marks from your night with Aemond. “Like, it seems whatever you have going on is very enthusiastic, if anything…”

“Emma,” you breathe. “I’m pregnant.”

#each coming night #call it dreaming #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #part 3 #thanks for reading #♥#Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader

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ayoharuko · 1 year

Note

DANGANRONPA REQUEST OPEN I HEARD?

Here I come

The danganronpa # has been soo dead

I want more content

Soo can u do byakuya x reader uh idk I have no ideas soo can you do just general bf headcanons? Idk idk im sorry

Have a nice day tho and don't forget to drink and eat love

Ty for the request! and yea Danganronpa has been pretty dead but I love the games so I'll provide content~

Also I'm really really sorry for taking so long to finish ur request, if u haven’t seen my pinned post I've been admitted in the hospital so I'm sorry....I hope this can make up for it :)

NON-despair AU btw~

REMINDER: This character does not belong to me but belongs to Kazutaka Kodaka also this work is fiction so please don’t take it too seriously :3

Byakuya Togmai (Ultimate Affluent Progeny) x GNreader general headcanons

- Now our boy isn’t used to these lovey dovey shit and at the start of y'alls relationship he treated you..rather coldly....but don’t worry! Later on he’ll act a little less cold :)

- To show his love and appreciation for you he buys you VERY expensive gifts and just spoils you, Basically like a sugar daddy-

- PDA is not that heavy...holding hands is only it or linking arms very gentleman like but indoors you are feel to do whatever you would like with him, He’ll complain of course but won’t stop you lol

- He protects you from getting killed by Toko.

- You’re the only person his sweet too, no one else. So feel special hon~

- He LOVES cuddling you, Like big spoon is good on him but on the days where his stress and gloomy he likes being little spoon<3

- He’s waiting for you guys to graduate...why? Because he wants to purpose to you duh! Once this man falls inlove...he’ll never let you go..(yandere?)

- Don’t fall for the insults and cold looks, for deep inside he truly does love and cherishes you :3

‘’Here...what? Tch...I just wanted to buy you something nice...no need thank me...I’ll buy you the whole world if I could.....what? Nothing...your hallucinating...’’

Donee~

Tysm for being patient and again I'm sorry for taking so long :)

I hope u guys liked this and see u on my next post!

Reblogs and Feedback/Comments are always appreciated! :3

Edited by: @purpi-narwhale

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa x you #danganronpa: trigger happy havoc #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya togami x you #byakuya togami x y/n #byakuya togami

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k-evans-reads · 1 year

Text

Playing With Fire

Chapter 22

Summary: After a change of heart nearly ten years into her career as a pediatric intensive care unit nurse, Ellie Maxwell has moved back home and returned to her old job at the local bakery, where the regulars are the firefighters from down the street. When sparks begin to fly between Ellie and the guarded, closed-off Chris, will anything come of it?

Pairing: Firefighter!Chris Evans X OFC Elizabeth “Ellie” Maxwell

Word Count: 3,670

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None!

Previous | Main Masterlist | Playing With Fire Masterlist

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Hearing the little voice calling out for him made Chris smile from ear to ear from where he was patiently standing in the hallway of the school with all of the other parents around the kindergarten classroom door. Through the sea of people and children, Chris saw that familiar face he loved so deeply while her curls bounced and tiny backpack swung from side to side as she ran over to him. The second she was within arms reach, Chris was scooping her up and holding his beloved daughter against his chest while he planted a big kiss on her cheek.

“How was your first day of school, Hazelnut?” He asked her, his voice muffled against her hair as she squeezed him just as tightly, her giggles echoing in his ears.

“Great!” She cheered, her grinning face appearing once he set her back down on her light-up sneakers. “I had fun!”

“I’m glad you did sweetheart,” Chris told her sincerely, relief flooding him. He had been worried all morning that – despite her earlier enthusiasm for the day – something would go wrong, that she’d be upset and scared without him there to reassure her. And while he knew kindergarten wasn’t much different from her previous routine at the preschool just next door to the elementary school, it was still new to her…. And him.

“I made two new friends! And look!” She paused, shrugging her narwhal backpack off of her shoulders, roughly unzipping it and digging around the bag until her hand pulled out a tiny ball of modeling clay. “We made a turtle!”

“Wow, that’s pretty cute,” he smiled, squatting down to look at it with her after he shot a thankful smile over at the teacher, who was lingering in the doorway with a few other students.

Hazel nodded, looking down at the clay in her hands. As Chris picked up the backpack, gently helping Hazel shrug it onto her shoulders, the little girl quietly told him, “I wanna show mommy and Ellie.”

“We’ll Facetime Mommy in the car and you can tell her about your first day at school. I know she’s excited to hear about it,” Chris assured her. He had spent much of the morning sending pictures to Ashlee, knowing she was upset she was missing such a big day for Hazel. And while he felt her appreciation, he knew he and Hazel both felt Ashlee’s absence today.

She turned her head to look at him, her hands shoving the turtle towards him as she asked, “Is my Ellie at our house?”

“She will be soon, Basil. She’s still at the bakery but she’ll be home soon,” he smiled reassuringly, bending over to carefully drop the turtle in the bag before he zipped it up and patted her shoulders gently.

“...Can we go see her now?”

He chuckled quietly, holding his hand out and knowingly offering, “Well I think someone could use a cookie to celebrate the first day of school.”

Chris laughed at the look of pure excitement on her face as she let out a loud ‘YAY’ before taking her small hand in his while they walked down the hallway. He helped get her all buckled in before pulling out his phone and called Ashlee, handing Hazel the phone before he could close the back door and climb into the driver's seat.

He overheard the conversation as he backed out of the parking spot, hearing Hazel sharing about her day at school and he was so thankful that so far her being in New York hadn’t put a damper on their relationship. She still always picked up the phone anytime he called and Ashlee knew of all that was going on in Hazel’s life, including sending Chris a text to read to her that morning encouraging her that she’d have a great first day.

Ever since she’d moved, Chris had given more thought to what she’d suggested about him possibly moving to New York City. It hadn’t been anything he wanted, but he had thought about what would be best for Hazel, wondering if her relationship with Ashlee would suffer with not having her nearby but that had proven to be untrue. Sure, it was still taking some adjusting, but overall Chris just felt such an overwhelming sense of relief that things were going well and they all were just as close as ever.

But through this all, there were two other people who were getting closer. Chris felt like each and every day he fell just a little bit more in love with Ellie. He couldn’t believe just what a rock she’d been for both he and Hazel through this all, providing the emotional support they needed at every turn in the road. She hadn’t missed one single opportunity to nurture them and pour out every bit of love and affection she had and took care of them in the best way possible. He felt like they truly were a family and he was never going to let that end.

He heard Hazel saying goodbye on the phone right as they pulled into the bakery parking lot, letting them walk inside undistracted. Chris pulled open the door, allowing Hazel to walk in holding that little clay turtle in her hands as she loudly yelled, “ELLIE JELLY!”

“Shh, Hazel, use your inside voice,” Chris instructed her quickly with a hint of humor in his voice, but at Ellie and Brooke’s laughter and the fond looks on the few customers inside the bakery, he relaxed.

“There’s my kindergarten girl!” Ellie called, leaning down to hug Hazel as she ran towards her. “You came at the perfect time, Hazie. I’m just finishing a special cupcake just for you.”

Hazel’s tiny jaw dropped, her face excited as she practically vibrated in place and asked, “Does it have sprinkles?”

“Well it wouldn’t be a Hazel cupcake if it didn’t,” Ellie grinned, beckoning them behind the front counter, rising onto her toes to press a kiss to Chris’ cheek as he passed her.

Chris came to a stop with his hands gently resting on Hazel’s shoulders, silently keeping her from running to bury her face in the bowl of icing that sat on the counter. He silently watched Ellie take a few things out of the case and put them on a few plates before asking Brooke to take over the counter. Once the brunette was standing at the register, Ellie came around the counter and led the pair of them upstairs and away from the sparsely crowded tables and up to the break room where she had Hazel sit down before handing her the cupcake and slid one of the freshly baked lemon squares to him with a knowing smile.

“Hey, I didn’t go to kindergarten today, I don’t think I deserve a treat,” Chris smirked, looking up through his lashes and meeting his girl’s eyes.

Ellie shrugged, pulling a chair out to sit down as she answered, “Well I’m pretty sure the first day of kindergarten was more emotional for you than Hazel.”

Chris let out a laugh, remembering how he had teared up several times that morning as he watched Hazel, feeling as if she’d grown up overnight. “That might be true,” he agreed, biting his lip as he tried to stop the emotional thoughts again.

Ellie gave him a knowing look, her smile reassuring before she turned to the curly-haired girl as she happily munched on her special cupcake. “Hazie, I want to hear about your first day!” Ellie grinned, looking at her excitedly.

“It was great, I wanna go back tomorrow,” Hazel grinned back, reaching for the green and orange clay next to her and holding it towards Ellie. “And look! Look! I made a turtle!”

Chris watched as Ellie studied the turtle, asking Hazel all the right questions and praising her for it. Once Hazel was happily distracted with the turtle and the cupcake, Chris whispered to Ellie, “She was very excited to stop by and show you the turtle.”

“I see why because he’s pretty cute,” Ellie laughed. She sat up in her seat, getting Hazel’s attention as she suggested, “I think we should make a little house for him out of one of those little cardboard boxes you dad has at home.”

“Can we go home and make it now?” Hazel asked, her mind distracted as she likely thought about twenty different ways to make the turtle a home.

“Someone needs to have some quiet time first,” Chris told her gently, pausing to eat the last of his lemon bar. “And honey, Ellie needs to finish her work here at the bakery.”

“How about you go home with daddy, rest a little, and then you do your walk with Dodger and by the time you’re done, I’ll be there and we can start on your turtle’s house, okay?” Ellie paused, her eyebrows raised as she looked at Hazel.

“Okay!” Hazel said, looking at Chris and practically stumbling over herself as she rushed to stand up, gently pulling on Chris’ hand to leave.

After Hazel’s incessant rushing to get home and a successful quiet time and walk, Ellie had arrived at the Evans home. Chris smirked as she was greeted with the sight of Hazel riding her bike up and down the sidewalk in front of the small home… without training wheels. They’d been just getting ready to leave for their walk with Dodger when Hazel had asked Chris to take off her training wheels, and while Chris knew she’d been ready for a while, it didn’t mean he wasn’t gobsmacked when Hazel sped off in front of him, nearly perfectly balanced on the two wheels.

Once Ellie had run over to Hazel, following her on foot excitedly and hugging the girl once she stopped momentarily, she made her way over to Chris, who was sitting at the top of the driveway. He was watching his little girl speed back and forth, the pastel stripes of her helmet so perfectly Hazel. His other girl plopped down next to him, stretching her long legs in front of her with a sigh before her head dropped onto Chris’ shoulders.

“Dinner’s in the oven,” he murmured to her, pausing to turn and press a kiss to her forehead. “I made penne.”

She nodded approvingly, sighing before she slipped her arm around his waist. “How are you holding up after Hazel’s first day?” She quietly asked as both of their eyes followed the excited girl in front of them.

“I knew it’d be emotional but I didn’t expect to cry as much as I did,” Chris admitted with a chuckle. “It’s just so weird to feel like yesterday she was that tiny little baby in my arms and now she’s in school and loving it.”

He felt Ellie nod against his shoulder, murmuring to him, “I can see how it feels like it goes by so fast.”

“It does,” he agreed, sighing as he remembered the haze of the early days with Hazel, the sleepless nights, the almost non-stop stress and worrying at every little noise she’d made. And while he was thankful for the experience and growth he’d undergone over the last five years, sometimes he missed that little girl, the one who needed his help to do everything. But he also wouldn’t trade this stage – the one where she told him jokes, sassed him, and gave him more headaches than he thought possible – for anything. “And don’t get me wrong, I love watching Hazel grow up. I’m so proud of her for doing these things on her own and I love different things about every age, but looking back, having that little baby was a pretty special time.”

She was quiet as they watched Hazel, but her voice was tentative when she finally asked, “But you want to have that again, right?”

“Meaning having another baby?” Chris asked her, turning to her and pausing as she nodded. “I really do. I’d like to have more, as long as you feel the same.”

“I’d love to have kids,” Ellie agreed, a small smile on her face as she moved her eyes from Hazel to Chris. “And the best part is that I already know what an incredible dad you’re going to be to them.”

He huffed out a breath as he blushed at her words, but his mind was elsewhere as he confessed, “I really love thinking about us having some kids, Elles.”

“I know, me too. But I think we’re making the right decision by taking things slow so that Hazel can adjust,” Ellie reminded him. And even without that, Chris knew they had been in complete agreement about it. With Hazel being so young still, Chris and Ashlee both didn’t want to introduce her to several new changes at once. He’d always knew he’d likely have to wait a little longer to propose to Ellie than he would’ve if Hazel wasn’t in the picture – a thought he didn’t like to dwell on much – but with everything happening so quickly with Ashlee moving and school starting, they both had agreed to delay the inevitable end goal just a tiny bit longer.

“I do too,” Chris smiled. “Although I think she’s adjusting quicker than we think. I swear everytime I pick her up from something or she wakes up and you’ve already left for the bakery, she just asks when ‘her Ellie’ will be back. She loves you so much.”

Ellie’s lower lip jutted out as she listened to Chris’ words, and at the look on her face he knew how much that simple reminder meant. “I love her so much,” she admitted, her voice shaky.

“I love our family,” Chris agreed, clearing the emotion out of his throat slightly. “I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Ellie nodded, watching as Hazel dropped her bike onto the front yard and began playing with the sidewalk chalk. “Speaking of family though, did Ashlee get a chance to talk to Hazel yet?” She asked curiously.

“Yeah we called her right after school,” Chris informed her, sighing as he stretched his own legs out. “I know Ashlee was disappointed to not be there for her first day but I sent her pictures and they talked before and after school.”

Ellie hesitated, biting her lip. Chris watched her curiously before he turned his eyes back to Hazel, letting Ellie work up the courage to share whatever she was thinking. But he was surprised when she quietly asked, “Have you given any more thought to moving to New York City to be near her for Hazel?”

He shook his head quickly, glancing at his lap before he assured her, “No, we’re not doing that.”

And although he didn’t know it, that one simple statement caused so many doubts in her mind. Ellie knew that them moving was the absolute last thing she wanted. She had left the city for a reason to move back here to be near her family and now had started her bakery. She didn’t want to go back to the city but knew that if it meant being with Chris and Hazel that she’d do it in a heartbeat. But what really plagued her was the thought that Chris had known some of that and chose to stay here just for her.

And although that would be fine if he didn’t have Hazel, she changed everything. Hazel was always his first priority and it made her almost feel physically sick just thinking that he might possibly be doing something for her that wasn’t in Hazel’s best interest. The guilt that she felt from just the thought was overwhelming and clouded her mind the whole evening. She saw the curious looks Chris gave her throughout the rest of the evening as they had dinner, cleaned up, and started crafting Hazel’s turtle house but she just couldn’t get rid of that nagging feeling inside of her.

It wasn’t until Hazel had long been put to bed, all too exhausted from the excitement of her first day, that the unspoken words between them finally ended. Chris and Ellie trudged upstairs as Dodger followed behind them, pausing to sniff at Hazel’s door before the dog followed them into the primary bedroom. A silence had settled between them ever since Hazel went to bed and Ellie quietly half-watched some mindless reality show on Bravo while Chris planned his Fantasy Football draft on his computer, but Chris’ curious, concerned looks had only intensified since dinner, and Ellie felt she was almost suffocating in her thoughts.

It came to a head as they stood side by side in the bathroom, the electric hum of Chris’ toothbrush a steadying sound as Ellie gently cleansed her skin. She clenched her jaw unconsciously as Chris shot her another look in the mirror, but she had a moment of near privacy as she bent over to rinse her face.

“So what’s going on that you’re not telling me?” Chris broke the silence in the bathroom as he put the cap on his toothbrush and put it in the drawer.

She stood up, swallowing nervously as she reached for the jar of moisturizer on the counter. “What?”

“I know there’s been something on your mind tonight, honey,” She watched the way he leaned against the counter next to her. “Why don’t you just tell me what it is.”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Ellie plainly told him, not taking her eyes off of her reflection in the mirror as she opened the jar and rubbed the moisturizer into her skin.

“No you’re not,” his voice was steady and firm before he reached out to rub his hand along her arm that the short sleeves of her pajamas weren’t covering. “Is it something with the bakery?”

“No, it’s not that,” she muttered, turning the water of the sink on to start rubbing her hands together.

“Then can you just tell me what it is?” He practically pleaded, moving even closer to her and let his hand move to rub up and down her back. “Elles, I know there’s something bothering you especially since we talked tonight. Can you please just tell me, honey? I want to help you.”

“I just… don’t want to put pressure on you,” she hesitated, her voice impossibly small.

A look of confusion and fear appeared on his face momentarily, just before one of determination replaced it. “Ellie, you have to tell me because I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he breathed to her, his fingers tapping against the beige counter nervously.

“I’ve just been – well you were so sure about not moving to the city,” she began, pausing until Chris nodded, but the look of confusion once again appeared on his face. “But what if you need to?”

“Oh Elles, is that what this is about?” He asked her, his hand moving to take hers comfortingly. “Honey, c’mere baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you-”

He pulled her closer to him, his voice resolute as he repeated, “No, I’m staying.”

“That’s the problem,” Ellie emphasized, pausing for a moment to figure out how to phrase what she was fearing. “What if you staying isn’t the best thing for Hazel and you’re… just staying for me? Chris, I can’t stand in the way of what’s right for her.”

“You’re not, honey. I promise you that,” his voice was quiet but strong, reassuring her in a way he only could. “Ashlee knows it was her choice to move and that’s completely fine, but I want to stay. I want to be down the street from my mom, have a yard for Hazel and Dodger, and live in a neighborhood where Hazel has friends.”

“Are you sure though that’s the reason and it’s not just because of me?”

“I am sure.” There was no room for doubt in his tone. “I talked to Ashlee about that just this past week and we both agree that staying here is what’s best for Hazel. There was a reason we moved here in the first place and having you only adds to that.”

“... I know it’s selfish, but part of me was so afraid you were going to move.”

“We’re staying right here.” The warm smile on his face gave Ellie all the reassurance that she needed in the moment. “This is where I want my life, Ellie… where I want my life with you. I want us to raise our own family here close to both of our families, and have Hazel stay at the same school, and have your bakery. I want our life here.”

Ellie lifted her chin to look up at those beautiful blue eyes, telling him, “I like when you say it’s our life.”

“It is, Elles. Everything from here on out is us,” he spoke with so much tenderness and honesty in his voice.

Suddenly Ellie felt embarrassed, knowing that there was nothing that they couldn’t seem to work out together, “I’m sorry I got so worked up over all of this, Chris.”

“Please don’t apologize. I just want you to always be able to talk to me,” he sealed his words with a soft kiss on her cheek, a warm hand rubbing up and down her back while that amused smirk appeared on his lips, “Remember, I’m not letting you get away so you’re stuck with me.”

“That sounds pretty good to me.”

All of the stress that Ellie has been internalizing seemed to melt away when Chris pulled her fully into his arms, her head tucking under his chin while his thick arms wrapped around her, rubbing his hands along her back. She couldn't help fixate on his words about this being their family, that not only were they becoming a family now, but would still be here years from now. They’d grow it in these four walls together, returning here every day to be together… Chris, herself, Hazel…. And maybe a few extra members along the way.

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grislyintentions · 9 months

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Commentary & Spoilers on the Myriad Celestia Trailer: The Jepella Rebellion

Observations + Headcanons: 1) Kafka excels in becoming the bait/lure/distraction for authorities looking to apprehend the Stellaron Hunters, hence she is the one that is 'captured' more often. This is likely due to her ability to subtly inflict spirit whisper on them and sow discord among them, turning some into her accomplices, some into her puppets and some into her 'hands'. She demolishes their system from within whilst the other hunters focus on different areas.

2) Sam was hinted to be an automaton-like figure in Blade's character story 3. This is now seemingly confirmed within the trailer. Additionally, his build appears to be a lot more sophisticated compared to Svarog's. It may be due to them being created for different purposes in mind: Svarog for security and safeguarding, Sam for offensive/defensive power and flexible utilities.

3) The total number of criminal cases the Stellaron Hunters are accused of seem rather low but considering the devastation they cause each time, they are befitting of their title as international fugitives. Based on their compatibility and ease of working together, regardless of the pairing, it can be implied that they are responsible for more disasters than what have already been discovered. We can also, inversely, theorise that the number of cases they were responsible fall reflect just how many stellarons they have acquired.

4) Kafka's voice actresses all excel in portraying the sinister nature of her personality. However, there are subtle differences in their choices as well. For reference: English VA's rendition focuses heavily on her calculating and sly femme fatale nature, creating an alluring draw. Chinese VA's rendition centers around her 'sweetness' and the juxtaposition of her casual cruelty so the version of Kafka there is gentler in tone, but just as viciously deceptive.

Commentary: -Given her personality, Kafka not being an Emanator of Destruction is something people definitely should be grateful for. There's no denying the potential that she has if she did become one. However, she is inherently incompatible.

With reference to Phantylia's comments, it seems that all the Lord Ravagers follow their own philosophy pertaining to Destruction. Kafka, on the other end, holds no such consistent beliefs. To her, destruction is but a means to an end. A byproduct and most times a necessary component in achieving the results she wants.

It is not what satisfies her. Neither is it something she is fixated with. Though she does appreciate the nature of it eg: Lamenting over how she did not get to see just how far her home planet fell under the influence of a stellaron etc. In fact, if destruction is always the same end result, she is likely to grow bored.

-The Stellaron Hunters are each experienced enough to work on their own. However, what is also interesting is that no matter who their team member is for their current mission, they can adjust and work well with the other. At a glance, Kafka is usually paired with Blade and Sam if their missions require someone to buy her time and keep her guarded from interference/attack from outside forces. With Silver Wolf however, Kafka then becomes the distraction so that the hacker can infiltrate systems and hijack whatever is necessary. Hence, they function well in stealth missions together.

Sam and Silver Wolf would also make for ideal partners since technological advances and reality editing are two areas that could achieve groundbreaking results. With Sam around, Silver Wolf can easily tamper with things and boost his capabilities endlessly with her buffs.

Also, Not to be conceited but I'm glad I got the way she enjoys playing mind-games and her blasé attitude over causing widespread suffering right. It's the mf timing of the trailer dropping a day after the thinkpiece excerpt I wrote sOBS.

@celestial-narwhal , @everlastiingiimmortals , @shining-gem34 , @memovia [I humbly present some kafka crumbs for my pals. ;w; <3]

#charac: kafka #spoilers cw #[just for reference: I mostly play the game in CN so i base my portrayal off that.]

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wildcards1407 · 1 year

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Travel Documents 118: Solarpunk Winters

Heya folks! Once a week (or when I can) I write book reviews of other folks' stuff. I call them the Travel Documents. Here's this week's!

by Sarena Ulibarri , Wendy Nikel , et al.

Genre: near-future, solarpunk, social change, climate change

The Dust Cover Copy

This anthology envisions winters of the future, with stories of scientists working together to protect narwhals from an oil spill, to bring snow back to the mountains of Maine, to preserve ecosystems—even if they have to be under glass domes. They're stories of regular people rising to extraordinary circumstances to survive extreme winter weather, to fix a threat to their community's energy source, to save a living city from a deep-rooted sickness. Some take place after an environmental catastrophe, with luxury resorts and military bases and mafia strongholds transformed into sustainable communes; others rethink the way we could organize cities, using skybridges and seascrapers and constructed islands to adapt to the changes of the Anthropocene. Even when the nights are long, the future is bright in these seventeen diverse tales.

The Scene

Worldbuilding

I’ve heard it said in the last few years that what we’re setting ourselves up for isn’t ‘global warming’, as an experience. It’s ‘climate weirding’. The hots will get hotter, and there’s every chance that the colds will get colder. In this world, we’ll need our community connections to get stronger, our coping mechanisms to get clever, and our solutions to get really, really good. In these stories, that’s just what happens, in all the best possible ways.

The Crowd

Characterization

Given that this is a story collection, I won’t dive too deep here, except to say that each of these stories has in it real and wonderful people. Whether it’s the desperately eager and incredibly klutzy Halps of Halps’ Promise, the sweet and angsty Tommi in On The Contrary, Yes or the powerfully grounded and wise Meri of Oil and Ivory, all these stories are full of wonderful characters. I have a few particular favorites: the aforementioned Halps, the sensible and smart Doc Katie of Recovering the Lost Art of Cuddling, and the wonderful crew portrayed in VIAM INVENIEMUS AUT FACIEMUS, IE Stabby, Loopy And Friends Save The Day! But none of these tales falters in their portrayal of the human condition.

Writing Style

Some stories are spare and melodic. One is written as a funny first-person admission essay begging a university to accept a kid who’s either going to invent something amazing or blow himself up. Some stories are raw, and some are kind, and some are cold and crystalline as the world they’re set in.

All of them are delightful.

The Moves

Plot

None of these stories fell down on the plot either. What I particularly appreciated was the immediacy of the problems: this wasn’t saving the whole planet, this was getting through the snowstorm to save your neighbors from freezing to death and then trusting your sled dogs to get you home. This was hiking a mountain to fix a broken pipe that creates power for your community, or figuring out how to fix the transformer before the temperature crashed in the pod, or helping migrating narwhals deal with thick ice. Each of these stories was small and immediate. And read together, each story weaves into a portrayal of the small daily acts that will let us clean up our act and help the world heal from our actions.

Overall Rating

Put on the kettle the next time it snows. Make something hot. Make some toast. Grab your favorite blanket. Get comfy. Then open up this powerful book, and dive into a world of cold hands, warm hearts, and bright hopes. You’ll be glad you did.

#bookstagram #books and reading #indie books #solarpunk #glass and gardens

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sophielovesbooks · 11 months

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Last Line Tag

First of all, thank you so much to @jay-avian for tagging me in this tag game.

Rule: Post the last line/snippet of what you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

Before I give you my last line, I would love to share a small insight into who I am as a person.

I saw the tag and was delighted. Told myself I would respond soon.

Thought of the tag every single day but was always too tired/busy/I don't even know what to actually respond.

Got increasingly upset with myself for not having done it yet.

Two days ago, realised that it was hard to retrieve the notification in the sea of notifications I get from that one rock-bottom tag-yourself-with-your-age post I made.

Spend about half an hour scrolling through tags right before bed and finally found it.

Went to sleep instead of responding.

Had my hen do last night and am mildly hungover, but have somehow selected today of all days to FINALLY respond lol

By the time I was tagged, the final line I had written for my WIP was this:

They were so intensely gentle with each other, and now with me; so unbelievably bloody kind.

But ever since, I have continued to write, and now it's:

I was going to make [character name] fall in love with me.

Note: I'm writing a mystery novel, not a romance novel, so don't get the wrong idea. :D

That's 12 words, so I am tagging: @hrimceald @leave-her-a-tome @writing-outside-the-box @writings-of-a-narwhal @b1uetrees @unbearable-lightness-of-ink @thelittlestspider @batekush @howdywrites @theplottery @writtenbyevie and @cwritesfiction

Again, thank you so much for the tag, @jay-avian. I truly appreciate it and only took so long on account of my undeniable character flaws lol

PS: I censored my character's name because I share my writing with offline friends sometimes and my blog is secret hehe.

#writing #wip #my wip #tag games #writing tag games #last line tag

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beetlegoose01 · 1 year

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Home

A Foot Too Big Ending Rewrite

Read on AO3

~•~

Donatello stood tall, resting his palms against the mahogany banister barely keeping the porch, let alone the entire cabin together. He found himself listening to the sounds of the woods. The wind wisps about, the birds chirping their midday song, and the rustling of leaves flowing in the breeze.

He closed his eyes. He had never experienced anything like this. Being in nature was a foreign concept, having lived in the sewers of New York City for most of his life. And the moments he did leave the sewers, he and his brothers were left to deal with robots, ninjas, and mutants.

And now, apparently Bigfoot too.

If someone had approached him saying Bigfoot was real, that all the conspiracy theories from those podcasts he listened to were actually legit, he would have believed it without a second thought. He was a mutant turtle after all. Nothing surprised him anymore.

Yet despite this, he was still utterly surprised at seeing how Bigfoot truly was. It- no, she was an enigma in her own right.

She was no mythological creature made up by bored humans to scare others and spread conspiracy theories. She was real. She was real and alive and...obsessed with him. To a creepy degree. She was affectionate, sensitive, trailing him around like a hungry puppy looking for a snack. It was tiresome. It was embarrassing.

"Now you know how April feels." Raph's voice echoed in his mind.

He knew what that meant. It took a while, but he finally did. He was Bigfoot to April. A disgusting, sad individual who followed her around and embarrassed her. It was why she cringed after he made her the music box gift. It was also why she smiled at him, and hugged him with some devotion, but no true love behind her eyes.

He had fucked up. Badly.

"Hey stranger!" April chirped from behind him.

"Gah!" He yelped in surprise.

She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I...thought you heard me walk outside. Guess these slippers are too quiet." She gestured to her rainbow narwhal slippers.

Even with how beautiful she was, he felt sick to his stomach.

"Everything alright? You look as concerned as Mikey did when I told him we ran out of frozen pizza last night."

That made him chuckle a bit. "Yeah I'm fine. It's been...a weird day.

April snorted. "You can say that again.

With mischief dancing in his eyes, he said it again. "It's been a weird day."

"Smartass."

He smirked. "It's what I do best. So...listen, about earlier---" His expression turned to that of pleading and anxious. "I'm sorry about the music box. I thought you would like it, and I dunno, I wanted to show my appreciation for you and it backfired and made me look desperate and-"

April's expression softened. "Donnie, please."

He couldn't help but hide his face in shame. "You must hate me now."

"No, Donnie, I could never...I would never hate you. Ever. You're one of my best friends in the whole world. I- I know I haven't exactly been the greatest friend ever, but I want you to know that I appreciate you guys so much. Even when I've acted off, you've always stuck by my side. I know it hasn't been easy to deal with me.

We've been through so much. So much loss."

Donnie realized that she was not only talking about her father, but Splinter, and the city too.

April exhaled. "Before Leo woke up, I was terrified we would lose him too. And that...we could all lose each other at any point. And that scares me so much." Her voice trembled slightly.

Donnie's heart wanted to hug her. To comfort her, to let her know that he would never leave her. But something in the back of his mind held him back, to listen.

"Donnie, I'm scared I'm going to lose you," She whispered.

"You won't." He assured her without missing a single beat.

"I already have."

Donnie blinked incredulously. "What? No, no, no you haven't. I'm right here, I promise, I will never leave you. You can count on me."

April traced the banister with one fingertip, not looking back at him. "I've been having visions late at night when I can't sleep. They were like nightmares, but instead of forgetting them in the morning, they stuck around. And they're so clear and vivid too, I can't possibly forget them." She turned towards the stars, squinting as though she was recalling everything in her head.

"I feel tension. Hatred. Discomfort. And then...nothing. Like it all disappears. You're all gone."

"Gone?" He echoed.

"Yes, gone. Like I said, it's only visions. But sometimes, I worry that it's already happening. You know---" She pointed towards herself, then back at him. "Your whole vendetta with Casey."

Donnie winced. "Oh...with me and Casey." He swallowed and folded his hands. "It's, well, I thought you knew but ah... The truth is April, I like you a lot. As in, more than friends." His cheeks heated up. "I realized Casey had feelings for you too, and I guess I felt jealous. I went to extreme measures just to get you to notice me."

April's eyes widened, stunned. "Oh Donnie...I'm so sorry I---"

"I know, I understand now after I dealt with Bigfoot. I'm this sad thing that follows you around. I'm just a mutant."

"What? Donnie, I'm a mutant too! Have you already forgotten that?"

"That's different, you're---"

"Human passing, I know, and I will never truly understand the struggles you and your brothers have gone through. Our experiences will always be different, but my point still stands."

She reached out her hand, but the purple turtle pulled his away. "What about Casey?" Donnie asked.

She frowned. "What about him?"

"Ever since he joined our group, he's been...closer with you. I always felt so frustrated and angry, and maybe a little jealous. It's like he was intentionally getting under my skin by flirting with you."

"Right..." April couldn't hide the slight discomfort in her expression.

"And I guess I assumed you liked it. Him. You like him."

She groaned. "I feel like no matter what answer I say will be the wrong one."

Donnie stared at her, startled. "What?

"Like I'm a mouse running through a maze, but all the corners are closed in."

"That's not true--- it's your feelings."

"Is it?" April chuckled half-hardheartedly to herself. "You just said how Casey made you feel uncomfortable every time he was friendly with me. Because we're friends." Donnie was surprised to see her scoff, almost cynical with her response. "It was never about my own feelings, it was all about you and Casey's. Because if I pick one of you, the other will be upset. And if I pick neither? Then I've ruined everything."

"But why do I have to make the big decisions? Why do we have to make everything so complicated? I just want to get along with everyone. I wanted friends, I wanted ...a family I---" Her voice cracked, and Donnie swore he could see her eyes glisten with tears that she roughly rubbed away. "I'm ..."

"April...I'm so sorry."

"Don't. Please. I don't want to hear it. I just want it to stop. I want my dad back. I want our home and...our lives to be normal again. I want to stop the Kraang and remain friends forever."

Donnie nodded firmly. "I want to fix this."

"I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. Especially after everything we've been through. I guess...I was just so focused on impressing you, and making you like me that I lost sight of what's really important." He smiled. "The bond we have as friends."

April lifted her head slowly.

"I know....words can't repair what I've done. I know I've hurt you. But if you'd rather be friends, then that's cool with me."

"Really?"

"I respect your feelings too much to let you get worked up over something like this. I actually like us being friends more, now that I think about it."

"Oh..." She wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. "I'm so relieved to hear that, D. I'll tell Casey too!"

The truth was, nothing had changed between them. Their friendship and love for each other was as strong as ever.

Perhaps even stronger.

#this is my way of calling out the 2012 April haters #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #donatello #tmnt donatello #donatello hamato #april o neil #not apriltello #tmnt april #tmnt april o neil

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arthistoryanimalia · 23 days

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Happy #NarwhalDay!

A Narwhal (Monodon monoceros) tusk is the upper left canine tooth that grows through the lip. Sometimes, the right one does the same, resulting in a 2-tusked individual, as illustrated by English naturalist George Shaw (1751 – 1813):

George Shaw's The British Miscellany (1806)

George Shaw's Zoological Lectures (1809)

Bonus: Found a photo I took of a real double-tusked #narwhal skull that was on display at the Smithsonian NMNH :

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narwhalandchill · 6 months

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uhhh anyway. so like yesterday was my first time ever doing story day 1 and i have many Thoughts about the AQ. mostly positive unfortunately my major gripes do relate to the childe/narwhal situation which kinda dampens the overall experience more than any other part being underwhelming would given (gestures in general direction of self). like we all know the multitude of diseases i have on the subject 💀

dunno how much of a complete nonsense rambley writeup thisll be i think i might take some time to sort out my overall thoughts and write sth more coherent specifically on childe/narwhal stuff, maybe leave out some other aspects i have more pointed thoughts on as well so this wont get mega long but eh lets see. this just all kinds of thoughts i have for now And its a mess so Beware

anyway. firstly. as scarred as i am by melus and silver. Its also just. holy shit man theyre truly just straight up tapdancing on teppeis grave like THIS is how you write NPC deaths in an actually emotionally impactful way. dunyarzad was a massive glow up already in terms of NPC writing in general but she didnt die so. but like the way their characters and bond to both callas and navia is built up and how the writers actually managed to make them feel like such dynamic people even if their roles are ultimately quite straightforward made their fates just... genuinely heartbreaking like what the fuck 😭😭😭 AND THE WAY THEY STILL SAVED NAVIA FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE AND SAID THEIR FAREWELLS I JUST. I CANT. i just teared up thinking about it again

idk what could be said about navia that hasnt been said a gigabillion times before like. Wow. she is just. Truly the moment. like she fucking blindsided my ass in 4.0 bc i wasnt expecting anything like how dynamic and compelling and complex her arc and characterization has been like. everything about navia her resolve her grit her experiences and her bravery and stubbornness just feels so incredibly human and raw and she is just? a wonderful character i never foresaw falling in love with her this much like truly. and she delivered JUST as hard in 4.2 too like if it werent for navia being the conduit through which we first experience the devastation of poisson i dont think it wouldve ever hit as hard as it did. i just wanna comfort her shes already been thru so much yet i also admire her insistence to keep going and keep living like man 😭😭😭 give her a happy story quest hoyo idgaf if it gets called shallow or some bs she deserves a break!!!!!

i think some ppl are disappointed by arles relative lack of presence in fontaine overall and while i get that i can genuinely say that its been so fucking refreshing to have an AQ centering on a conflict thats not entirely or mostly fatui based. its not like the weight or intimidation factor of arlecchinos presence has been any lesser just bc shes been largely on the same side as us. like personally i just Really enjoyed seeing her characterization throughout. the way shes been just so reasonable thus far makes me extra excited for whenever she might actually snap (at least hopefully she will). like both childe and scara think shes fucking insane?????? but yea. i also really enjoy arles dynamic with the HoH kids too like. i do think she genuinely cares for them in a way but i highly doubt thats all there is to it. and thats really neat. goes for things like her help to spina di rosula and poisson too; theres definitely strings attached to that aid lmao. even if arle has no particularly malicious designs in mind, shes a harbinger. like cmon. and i really like that!!

i dont have like. that extensive thoughts abt what i call the . uhhh. this is mean but extended cast of act 5 JKJKDWJKDJKAJK like HoH gang, clorinde, sigewinne, wrio. tho i do very much appreciate that clorinde dodged the sara allegations for good like. it was looking a little bit unfortunate in 4.0. her role wasnt super major but i love her english VA and this kind of grounded sort of character she ultimately is. also sigewinne jumpscare during furinas trial i love her so much.

mona n nicoles thing was unfortunately mostly a whateverburger for me bc. im sorry im not that interested in hexenzirkel lmao i feel like such an outlier in any lore discussion circles bc im just not that hype about them (gold is an icon however) idk why. it was neat, it happened, didnt bring any mega hype. what i liked the most was honestly just the talk with mona about destiny and fighting against it and all. she really felt like a friend trying to help us navigate our thoughts on this insane horrible situation going on!!

in terms of plot things uhhh i went in mostly blind? as to the actual events. i had spoiled myself a bit on some specific aspects (my own fault) but ultimately most had no effect on how much i enjoyed everything. also lowering my expectations on the. ahem. worries i had abt childe that unfortunately came true so i was less let down on the spot wjjkajkwdjkwd. my biggest issue was actually that i had to progress lyneys story quest TWO FUCKING TIMES by a pretty notable amount bc it was blocking locations. and that dumbass office drama world quest like i was morbing.

a particular standout moment (beyond the Obvious. i need not name it THE LAUGH THE FUCKING THUMBS DOWN also singed FL can kinda lowkey 100% absolutely get it) for me was when i was so invested in our conversation with furina in poisson and in the magic box that i actually fucking forgor about the whole trap scheme thing even existing and then the box fell open and i was like WAIT WHAT THE FUCK and started laughing for like a solid 5 minutes i was caught so off guard. what an incredible moment. bc like. when the thing we were hiding in w furina started shaking i was just hell yeah narwhal modcheck? narwhal modcheck? bc obviously i would. and didnt question for a second that it could be something else. like the trap we were LITERALLY plotting to set up just a bit earlier it actually killed me. altho the fact that one of the cursed lyney quest situations were in between the scheming scene and the poisson segment prolly had to do with it. anyway it was just really funny

i think this post is gonna take me 287382 years to finish if im gonna go into the like furina character arc situation and her trial and focalors and all that shit super in depth (+ narwhal/skirk things) but like. BELIEVE me i fucking loved it so much like its so awful and painful and horrible and just. best written archon easily. zhongli n venti i think r very well written but theyre p static characters bc oldies so its a bit different. raiden is. inazuma moment no comment needed. nahida is good but tbh i never truly reconciled with the way rukkha getting irminsuled sorta just erased the central conflict behind her inferiority complex so it somewhat ruined her character arc for me even if it did make me cry and i do love her chara overall. but furina i think they executed the whole setup and reveals and everything so incredibly well its insane like. god. 500 years........ and like. the way furinas arc just flops everything uve known about her and the interactions uve had with her sideways and turns it upside down realizing the predicament shes been in and what shes been grappling with. its just incredible man. harrowing but incredible like they truly delivered on that one. like that portion of the finale was just really well done

anyway not all thoughts i have by any means but whatever. ive just been Thinking. overall had a great time with the AQ n cutscenes in particular are only getting better and better, i thiiiiink this one tops sumeru for me? but like its sorta unfair bc i was never a scara stan whereas. even a narratively mishandled narwhal is a fucking world-devouring narwhal. unfair advantage. childe being there at all even if i have my gripes is too much points in favor KJWJKWJKDWDJKJK. theres things that make me really hopeful for the future writing but also things that concern me. so its an interesting situation rn. but im glad it went as ambitious as it did even if my fave got arguably sidelined the most. just hoping they actually do sth more with childe sooner than later if they want to leave all those loose ends unaddressed in 4.2. interlude rights PLEASE

#(cracks knuckles) anyway. hopefully ill have the energy to do some Takes tomorrow.#anyeay this post isnt coherent at all!!! deal with it!!!! HSJSJGK #rambles #genshin #genshin spoilers #4.2 spoilers

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trashcanwithsprinkles · 1 year

Note

my apologies for the slight length of this (ok maybe its not too long and im just self conscious) but-

i chewed through, devoured your fic cyanide narwhal from start to the current chapter within a 24 hour time period a day or so ago (including a sleeping break) during all my awake free time moments and was then so immersed in it mentally it was hard to tear myself away just to do my genshin dailies when i remembered they existed, at that time undone for that day? what-

and… although i am not confident about it (only bc of my own doubts about art, really, i have zero consistency outside of Brainrot itself) i really want to make fanart for it…? so yes, i am sticking to anonymous for this, but i may well be, uh. yelling less anonymously if that does occur. if you don't mind. (and if the art braincell cooperates. if i can stop getting distracted rereading 15+ chapters before i can even open krita. yeah, that… that happened already and may well happen again, at this rate. not that i truly consider it a bad thing. but it does somewhat make actually doing any art slightly challenging if im distracted before i can even open the program-) either way, really wanted to thank you for the amazing fic!!! 100/10 one of the best if not the best i have had the pleasure to find so far and i appreciate it so much. kudos to you. i actually tried giving kudos twice (from two different devices). dunno if it worked or not though, since i don't know what it works off of and my memory was too clouded with excitement to actually, well, tell me anything useful about that.

btw you have no idea how glad i was to see you were on tumblr bc i hardly exist anywhere else and don't really intend to in future either and also i loved to see your art designs!! they're so good i want to hold them,,

aaa thank you so much! please don't worry about the lenght of the ask, i love it all the more!

i get the struggle of wanting to draw but being to distracted;; if you do end up making some fanart please don't hesitate to send it through or tag me! i'd love nothing more than to see it! i could keep it private even if you don't want me to answer to the ask/post the submission ^^

i'm happy to hear you've been enjoying the fic <3

#thank you <3 <3

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ventitititi · 1 year

Text

Its the little things

Chap cw: ptsd flashbacks/visions, gore, dueling (friendly)

Word count: 2k

Series m.list || prev || next

Ever the graceful man as he was, childe was not ashamed to admit the scuff on his forehead was borne of sleep heavy bones tangled in his duvet. Fortunately, the stuffed narwhal he'd received as a gift broke his fall, nestled between his arms as it was…

Between his slightly less untamed hair and his morning coffee, he breathed out a sigh. Tension leaked from his shoulders, head leaned against the back of his couch.

Though still over aware of the sounds around him, he thanked the archons for days off. Well, as close as a harbinger could get anyways. Pray hope nothing urgent came up during his "me time."

Partway through his breakfast composed of vatrushka and coffee, a steady knock resounded on his door. Judging by the unhurried pace, this visitor was not of the fatui variety. He only knew one man in this harbour, then, who would visit him at all.

Setting down his mug onto his coffee table, he ruffled his hair as he stood, "I'm coming!" He called, shuffling his feet and trying not to trip on his oversized pyjama pants.

When he opened the door, Zhongli raised an inquisitive brow. Childe struggled to contain his embarrassed flush when the other man noted his narwhal pyjama pants, in his defence though, they're comfy!

"Have I interrupted your morning, Childe?"

His soft tone informed Childe he'd be more than happy to leave, if requested. A request Childe would likely never make. He shook his head, still beating back that darned blush, and invited zhongli into his small apartment. "Not at all xiansheng! Come in."

"Thank you for the invitation, then."

zhongli stepped inside, noting the largely barren interior as he slipped off his shoes. He noted the half eaten pastry on the small table, turning to look at childe. "What is that?"

Childe followed his gaze, shutting the door behind him with a click. "Oh, that? It's vatrushka, a type of pastry popular back in snezhnaya. Would you like one?"

"If it's not a bother, I think that'd be lovely," Zhongli hung his waistcoat by the door, blessing childe with the rare sight of the man without it.

"No problem at all, xiansheng! Make yourself comfortable while I grab you one," He chirped over his shoulder, already making his way to the fridge he'd stored them in. His scar-flecked hands grabbed a small plate for zhongli, ever the gentleman as the man was, he's sure it'd be appreciated.

He looked over his shoulder once more to the other, now notably seated on his couch. "Xiansheng, would you like some tea?"

Zhongli shook his head, "no thank you, childe."

With a nod childe brought over the small plate for his guest, handing it over with a small flourish before he plopped right back down onto his couch, grabbing his own pastry in the process.

"So what brings you here, zhongli-xiansheng?"

The elder man looked at him from his place, a little gleam in his eyes. "No reason, in particular if I'm being honest. I just felt the urge to come say hello."

Huh, that was odd, coming from zhongli. Although knowing him, childe wouldn't be able to extort any further information. He was sipping his coffee when a short hum sounded, he looked over once more with a brow raised.

"I'm just pleased that your dark circles have abated,"

The dim glow in his ochre-tipped hair and cor lapis eyes evidenced this fact, the old draconic traits leaking through in the comfort of his friends home.

"I was worried you hadn't slept, once more. I'm glad to see your well today," The end of his statement was followed with a soft smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Childe smiled back, finishing off his pastry before thinking to ask zhongli's opinion of the snezhnayan delicacy. "Xiansheng, what did you think of the vatrushka?"

"It was very… different from liyuen cooking, but nonetheless enjoyable," Zhongli hummed, nodding his head slightly along with his words. As if to reaffirm these words to himself, a habit childe was certain must be centuries old.

He stood with a stretch, a groan rumbling through his chest before he whisked away zhongli's small plate. "Let me go get dressed, xiansheng, then what do you say to a spar?"

He couldn't deny his shock when zhongli replied with a simple, "very well," From his spot behind childe's back, and he couldn't contain the spring in his step after.

"Prepare yourself, xiansheng! I won't hold back."

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard zhongli reply, "I'd expect nothing less," Typical old man response. Shrugging into his plainest attire, fitted for training purposes, he hopped out of his room on one foot, busy pulling up his sock but too eager to slow down.

A snort came from zhongli, who soon began chuckling softly at childe's antics. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Tartaglia, don't fret."

"I'm not fretting! I'm just so excited for a good fight, I've been pent up for awhile."

Zhongli was still shaking his head as he stood, light-hearted chuckles leaving the man while he shrugged on his waistcoat and shoes. He turned to childe before they left, "i have some stipulations to this duel."

Childe was too excited to care, nodding his head eagerly like he did as a boy. "Okay! I'm just excited to see your strength for myself, xiansheng!"

Zhongli was shaking his head at childe's antics in amusement, opening the door and waiting for childe to pass before he began to speak his rules into existence.

"I want there to be no use of your vision or delusion, likewise i will not use my own."

Childe's jaw dropped, staring at the man beside him in disbelief. He waved his hands around him, sputtering in his usual manner, "but xiansheng! How am I supposed to have a good spar without them?!"

Not to be mistaken as him being unable to fight without, the problem lay in the fact his fighting style relied heavily on the flexibility of his vision. Without it, he'd be unable to summon his usual spears of water, and he wasn't sure how his limited weapon arsenal would play out.

Zhongli merely smiled, inclining his head slightly. "That is for you to learn, childe. There are more ways than one to improve."

Childe was still taken aback by this claim, but he'd agreed without thought and he was a man of his word. He sighed, ruffling his hair and looking at the sky with mild disappointment. "Alright then, xiansheng. I still won't hold back though," he looked at his companion, shooting him a cheeky wink in the process.

Zhongli chuckled at the display, adjusting his wrist cuff in the same movement. "I'd expect no less from the 11th fatui harbinger."

Childe wasn't sure if he heard a hint of teasing in his tone, but if he'd debated mercy earlier, all such thoughts were now out of his head.

They were trekking quite a ways out, childe dually noted. The scenery was quite familiar though, and he could finally put a name to the place when ruins began to spring up around them. He quirked a brow, "why are we in the dunyu ruins?"

"To avoid any interruptions, I'm sure the average citizen of liyue wouldn't come this far," zhongli intoned.

Zhongli's words were logical, he reasoned it due to the reputation the area held of being highly hazardous. Stopping somewhere relatively flat, he planted his feet down firmly.

"Well xiansheng? I think right here has a mighty fine view."

Zhongli turned, summoning two simple spears from the ground with a motion of his hand. "I do agree, childe. The view here is lovely."

He proffered the weapon to childe, who took it and weighed it in his hands. With a couple solid swings and rotations he could feel the perfect distribution of weight in the weapon. He smiled over at the ex-archon,smug confidence oozing into his words, "a very fine weapon, xiansheng, I'm sure it'll serve me well."

Zhongli, ever the quiet man, merely smiled at him. "I'm glad it's to your liking, Childe," he swung his spear in a practised circle before settling into an easy stance. He nodded to his opponent, "try and land a hit, i wish to see your current skill level."

Childe scoffed at his easy arrogance, sure he was a war god, but those were days long past and skills fade with disuse. "Alright, xiansheng!"

His first attempted strike was aimed to zhongli's ankles, which was easily deflected by the older man. His movement was fluid, with no excess to it. Childe noted his position carefully, calculating where he may be weak to strikes.

When he came up empty, he opted for the second option. He struck various quick, light strikes to try and get a feel for the ex-archon, to no avail. Not a single hit landed, meanwhile zhongli occasionally struck childe, tutting some instructions such as, "don't leave yourself open," or, "childe, a little faster."

He was quickly growing frustrated, racking up small scrapes and bruises while zhongli remained in perfect condition, not a hair out of place. His frustration built in his chest, a hot sort of pressure egging him on, tempting him with the knowledge he had both his vision and his delusion at his fingertips.

This was, however, interrupted when a lawachurl roared nearby, stone-like hide having blended into the landscape. He and Zhongli had neglected to clear the area, which was well known for being dangerous, crawling with various enemies.

He jumped over on instinct, his delusion coming out in his mounting frustration. Foul legacy took him over slowly, only partially transformed and crackling along his skin in painful boughts of electro. Zhongli was saying something behind him, his voice muffled by the blood in his ears and pure focus on his enemy.

The enemy that was merely pulp dripping from his hands. When had he done that? Sure, he had been rushing over, but his foul legacy was demanding on his body, even now his palms were slowly starting to blister from the excess of electro.

He was letting his foul legacy go, kneeling on the ground in a puddle of red that he had made. His fingers, though blistered slightly, were covered in blood not his own, chunks of something he'd rather not know stuck under his nails. Zhongli was still talking, but he was too busy staring into space, zoning out and beginning to hyperventilate.

He had done that like it was nothing.

His head rushed, dizzy from the thoughts coming over him quickly, vaguely registering a hand on his shoulder as he shuddered. If that was so easy, what would happen if he lost control near his family?

Visions of red came to mind, childrens screams in familiar voices begging him for mercy, a mothers cry of his name not far behind. His fathers voice ringing through his ears, repeating words he'd had engraved onto his heart long ago.

"You can't be my son, you're a monster."

He was being carried, he could tell because he was rocking, moving in a way he himself did not. Words drifted through his ears, barely registering, various murmurs of apologies and "I'll make sure your alright, your safe."

Reassurances he was sure weren't needed. He was fine. He had to be fine. He wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't. Yeah, he was okay, this was normal. Everyday occurrences that everyone else experienced.

That was the only thought holding him together, just barely keeping his seams from tearing under pressure. The scenery passing by had been pleasant earlier, but now he gazed simply at the dim cor lapis hair tips that sometimes swayed into view, a deep voice narrating their location and destination.

He was losing consciousness, quickly. His vision was black at the edges and the pain in his palms was numbing, and dimly he heard himself say, "I'm fine, xiansheng," tonelessly before finally letting himself slip under, noting the click of a door as he did.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #genshin fic #genshin impact fic #: ̗̀➛head in the cloudsೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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pridelessdaydreamer · 2 years

Text

Wanted Plots for Linhardt

So I took a lot of the prompts.

into the thick of it. [Sword +1]

You’d think Linhardt would be sick of weird, suspicious ruins after all that book stuff, but it appears such is not the case-

claimed by: [n/a]

technically swords are better, but i suppose this will suffice. [Axe +1]

A myth he can witness with his own two eyes? We’ve already got the fairies covered, time to find another woman typically found near bodies of water.

claimed by: [n/a]

you really gonna fork this upon us? [Bow +1]

His first instinct is to just... eat somewhere else, but unfortunately, that requires just as much — if not more — effort.

claimed by: [n/a]

fire kicks on! [Faith +1]

Linhardt isn’t quite sure why, but he gets the sense that he might regret signing up for this...

claimed by: [mercedes ( @lalamines )]

they say cooking is chemistry. [Authority +1]

Unfortunately, that does not mean the scientist can cook (or knows what generally belongs with what).

claimed by: [shigure ( @stalarmonios )]

narwhals of the land. [Riding +1]

Mythological creatures seem to be showing up all around Garreg Mach! Well, it’s not like Linhardt is going to give up the chance to research this ‘unicorn’ thing firsthand.

claimed by: [n/a]

i’ve read a book on this before... [Flying +1]

I think Linhardt would appreciate being able to fly one day — oh, and perhaps getting better at handling animals? That boar... [shudders].

claimed by: [hilda ( @delicatevalentine )]

it’s an undercover mission after all [Any +1]

He’s not the thief, but Linhardt would love to be able to witness such a thing first-hand — I mean, if a weapon can do that, imagine how the tech could evolve! (Also, I wanna put Lin in a dress but anyways-)

claimed by: [velouria ( @wolfskintribedaughter ), naesala ( @aliferousumbra )]

I am open to the other prompts, too! They would just require Lin to have a bit of external motivation to actually pursue.

(If you want the fastest response, harass me on Discord!)

#[‘that was a weird dream…’] (ooc)#as you can see. i am taking prompts rather indiscriminately.#scrambles off to scour for threads #(i say. knowing full well i am GOING TO SLEEP.)#toa open

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faeflowerz · 2 years

Text

Misao Kuromori - The Blue Fairy

TWST OC MASTERPOST

Gender: Female (She/Her)

Age: 17

Birthday: February 16

Sign: Aquarius

Height: 175cm

Eye Color: Emerald Green

Hair Color: Brown + Red

Homeland: Vale of the Briars

Family: Shinko Kuromori, mother

Dormitory: Heartslabyul

Year: 2nd

Class: 2-A

Club: Light Music Club

Best Subject: Arts/Music

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Favorite Food: Kimchi

Least Favorite Food: Tarts

Dislikes: Lightning Storms

Hobby: Violin

Talent: Singing

Nicknames: Narwhal/Ikaku, Mademoiselle Amaryllis

Unique Magic: No Strings Attached. Misao can briefly control someone’s movements. Only works once per person.

Personality: Based on the Blue Fairy (Sapphire Fairy), Misao is a young woman that appreciates her human heritage a lot more than most fae would. Being born and raised in a mostly human town just on the outskirts of the Draconia domain, Misao does not rely on magic to complete tasks. When she was a child, she did grant wishes for the townspeople for a while, but stopped for unknown reasons.

Her fierce determination for self reliance and hands off approach to learning has made her the right fit for Heartslabyul. She admires Riddle for his power, but also feels that he is too sheltered to understand the world. Despite this, they have mutual respect and share ideas on how to properly lead people.

Classroom Chats

Chat 1 Bring Me to Life

"Not gonna lie, the talking paintings kind of freak me out. Their eyes follow you around and then they randomly strike up convos with you."

"Cater-senpai says they're great to talk to, but I'm not so sure…"

"How boring it must be to have to hang on a wall all day! Still, the magic behind it is cool. They say that the Sapphire Fairy was able to do the same thing to a puppet!"

"It could walk,talk, and even wanted to go to school like a real boy!"

"Imagine just being born and wanting to go to school of all places!"

Fin

Chat 2 A Whale of a Time

"You know, the Mostro lounge got its name from this HUGE whale. It was, like, the terror of the sea for a loong time."

"He'd eat anything, even whole ships! Once, a father and son were swallowed up by him too."

"By some miracle and quick thinking, they managed to survive and escape. Talk about your near misses!"

Fin

Chat 3 The Problem Solvers

"Hmm…"

"Oh, Yuu, whassup? I was just thinking about how often we rely on magic. I heard in the Valley of Thorns they use magic for everything! Fairies used to grant wishes, bless babies, and even make children."

"Oh? Shinko and I are fairies, but we grew up around humans who don't use magic. Sometimes we used to grant their wishes but...man, it got to be too much after a while."

"Magic can't solve everyone's problems, yanno? That's what my mama taught us!"

Fin

Chat 4 Misao and Ace: The Lie Detector

♥ Misao! Hey, didn't you say you needed help with moving your gear to the music club room?

"Oh, yeah! I appreciate your help, man!"

♥ Heh, anything to help upperclassmen!~ You guys are always there for me when I need you!

"Hmm…"

♥ What? What's wrong?

"Ace, what are you REALLY helpin me for?"

♥ *sigh* You got me. Riddle is mad and I need you to talk him down from it.

"Bro, lying will only get you into more trouble than you want."

Fin

Chat 5 Misao and Deuce: School of Tools

♠ A place where boys learn to get on the straight and narrow sounds pretty awesome, actually. I wonder if it had any success in helping them?

"Considering how many of the guys here are scoundrels, maybe a class trip is in order?"

♠ Waah?! You think so?! Who would you suggest has to go??

"Ehehe, Well, a few names come to mind, but they would probably put up a fight if I said who."

♠ ...I really need to become an honor student asap!

Fin

Chat 6 Misao and Cater: An Actor's Life for Me

♦ Mimi! I'm sooo booored. Wanna skip class? There's going to be an audition for one of Vil's movies!

"Sounds fun, but I really don't think you should skip class. You never know what could happen in just one day!"

♦ Aww, come on, don't be so fussy. It's just one little break. We could end up being major starlets!

"Tell you what, I'll cheer you on when you make it big."

♦ Awwwe! You really think I have what it takes?

"Ehehe yeah. You've got superstar potential, Cay!"

Fin

Chat 7 Misao and Trey: Conscience Science

♣ Ah, some of our underclassmen are up to trouble again...I'd better take care of it before Riddle finds out.

"You would think these boys would have a conscience to guide them. What ever happened to being a good guy?"

♣ It's easier said than done, to be honest. NRC isn't known for producing gentlemen.

"Mmm. That's quite obvious..."

♣ Hey, why are you looking at me like that?

Fin

Chat 8 Misao and Riddle: Of Rules and Regulations

"Do you think the Sapphire Fairy and the Queen would get along?"

🌹 Perhaps. They both had very strict moral codes. The Sapphire Fairy insisted that children should be raised to always tell the truth and follow their parent's guidance.

"She was merciful but not too hands-on either. You can't always rely on others to teach you a valuable lesson. We all have to take the training wheels off one day."

🌹 So you would prefer someone who is self-reliant? I see…

Fin

Relationships

Riddle: Misao adores Riddle and looks up to him. Riddle is hesitant to fall for her because he feels that they may be too different. She likes loud music, raving and dancing. She even has a tattoo! His mother would never approve of someone like Misao, but he's still drawn to her. She's honest with him, and she tries to reason with his leadership methods rather than becoming rebellious. Even though it appears that she takes the lead, Riddle does know how to fluster her and assert his authority as a prefect (she's more than happy to let him do it).

Trey: Misao doesn't quite like him. She has to be civil because of their mutual friendship with Riddle, but Misao thinks he's phony. He hides his worst traits and Misao would prefer him to be an honest shitty person than a restrained nice guy. Trey ignores this either for Riddle's sake or his own. Trey sometimes tries to appease her, but it usually backfires or she doesn't think he means it. They don’t really get into it, but that's because neither really have any reason to become enemies. They tolerate each other for short periods of time, which works for them.

Cater: They share a club together so they are pretty friendly. Although Cater is annoyed by his sisters, Misao actually acts like a big sister rather than a little one. Of all the seniors she could interact with, Misao likes to be around Cater the most. Maybe it's because of their star sign, but it's also because of their extroverted nature. Sometimes she feels like his mask is too tight, but there are moments where Cater accidentally opens up to her.

Ace: These two end up arguing a lot. One would think it's because of how much trouble he gets into and causes for everyone, but…it's really because he hits on her a lot. It's embarrassing. Ace doesn't care that Misao rejects him because he thinks it's fun to piss her off with his flirting. He also tries to bully her, but she has threatened to punch him if he crosses a line. He also sucks at hiding his pranks and brown nosing around her. She always catches onto him.

Deuce: Misao is pretty fond of Deuce. She finds his innocence endearing and warns him to protect himself. Deuce doesn't understand what she means yet. He secretly wants her praise because he's an only child. Sometimes he slips and calls her nee-chan. She doesn't mind since he's cute. Misao also has trouble with math so they bond over being terrible at it. She also encourages him to not be so hard on himself when he makes a mistake.

Kalim: His sunshine personality is so cute that it's almost offensive to her. Much like Deuce, she insists that he be more careful with his generous personality. Misao also scolds Jamil for still hovering over Kalim despite 'not being friends.' She's the one who encourages him to do things on his own and teaches him how to keep track of his school supplies. She tried to gift him a notebook and planner, but he forgets to carry that too.

Lilia: Since they're both fairies, they have a kinship. Misao doesn't know much about her heritage so she often turns to Lilia for lore. He's happy to tell her stories, but ultimately she has to end up going to the library. Since they met, Lilia will sometimes give her trinkets from the Valley. He's also impressed with how well she grew up despite being one of the only fairies in her hometown. They also get into it over music tastes, and the music club has to endure their debates.

#twist OC #twisted wonderland #writing #faes ocs

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