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#remember when i used to throw tantrums on the dash when i got upset
dottores · 7 months
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ahhhh the sudden awareness of where you stand with people my beloathed </3
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ashsostrange · 6 months
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it’s stand on business o’clock, cz i know y’all sick gw*les & p*nkflower shippers + delulu gwen stans ain’t try to run my girl bree (@breeandhermunches) off her blog… you got me all the way fucked up and ima tag this in ALL the categories. you can’t do anything about it 🤣 if you’re upset, then scroll ho. if you know i’m not talking about you, then have a great day! 🫶 if the shoe fits, then wear it.
i’m getting disrespectful. ima return the energy you hoes dished out n you better take it like some mf champs. y’all wanted to fuck around so now you gotta hear my mouth and find out. read it ‘n weep. clearing you bitches gives me life.
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such a shame we’re back here, but y’all are mad, mad miserable. like, i’ve never seen a fandom so chronically online. are you even trying to mask the fact that you rarely step outside anymore…? 😬
let me making it so very clear why i’m making this post in the first place, bc y’all seem to struggle with my main concerns never clicking in your heads.
y’all have the time to sit in somebody’s inbox and complain about their hatred towards fictional ships, meanwhile the people y’all complain about stay on their pages and mind their business? 🤨 those people being US. ion recall none of us going directly to YOUR pages to hate on punkflower and gwiles. if we hate, it’s on our pages. i don’t go looking for a mf fight, that’s mad childish. y’all were riding bree’s dick like crazy. at this point, her hate for gwiles must keep y’all up at night. talk to a therapist about that. it’s not healthy. i’m gna address ALL the bs y’all be on.
so now that you know why i’m posting this, let me set few things straight for y’all.
“don’t use the ship tag to hate! 🤬🤬” the day you copyright and trademark the tag, present me with an official “tumblr etiquette” rule book or, show me proof that you own tumblr is the day i’ll stop. ima do wtv i want whenever i want, please get that thru ya hollow ass heads. y’all aren’t entitled to anything. not respect, not no damn “common courtesy,” ESPECIALLY not over dysfunctional ships/fictional characters 🤣 i don’t owe you SHIT.
some of were y’all tryna go back and forth with me at the grown ass age of TWENTY. over GWILES. a sixteen yr old vs a twenty yr old, see your life 😂😂 it’s truly alarming. go get employed. if you alr are, then call your manager and pick up some more shifts bc you clearly ain’t doing enough. if college graduation rates begin to decline, i know exactly who to come to. everything’s going up and even tho you should be standing on some mf business so you can afford the cost of living, you’re arguing with teenagers online instead. a lot of you have too much free time.
“you posted this publicly under the tag, you can’t expect people not to want to argue” yes i can! block me and scroll. we don’t have to argue. i don’t remember starting an argument? i was never on your pages. i only reblog shit when it appears on my dash. like i said, i’m not searching far n wide for no damn fight. 🤷‍♀️ nobody told y’all to bitch, whine, and reblog mine or bree’s shit. your issue is that you have no self control. you don’t know when to hold yourself tf back, so you feel obligated to reply. god forbid someone has a differing opinion. my post was never even about the flaws in miles and gwen’s relationship. i was talking about how it is disappointing to see miles’ story be reduced to a love story. unfortunately, y’all forgot to put your glasses on beforehand and read “i hate gwiles.” yes, i hate gwiles!!! but that was not the point of my post. y’all are either illiterate or trying to let off some serious steam. i’m not having any of it. maybe y’all are upset i called you delusional, but you’ve effortlessly proven my point.
this is the internet. you have the tools to avoid seeing what me n bree hv to say, so why are you throwing a tantrum like a goddamn child instead of utilizing them?? you’re not special. the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. people are dying n you’re worried about a hate post under a ship tag?? mind you, that was the one and only “hate post” i’ve EVER put under that fuckass tag 😭 bree will make one post about gwiles, and y’all are the ones who’ll drag it out, then call her “obsessed.”we’re doomed bc y’all are doomed.
the white mfs complaining ab the term “snow bunny”… jesus 🤦‍♀️ ts didn’t even mean what you think it meant in the first place. it was originally used to refer to female skiers. some of y’all swear up, down, n all around that being “racist” to white people is the same as racism towards black people, and it’s not. let’s use “snow bunny” and the n-word as examples:
snow bunny had an alternative use before it was used to refer to white people. there’s no significant history behind it at all, unless you count tiktok as history. the n word has always been the n word. it’s always been derogatory, and anyone will a brain would know it’s mad history behind the word. it roots in deep hatred. people continue to use this word to belittle those who are black, or use it lightly around their friends nd behind closed doors as if it’s a common cuss word. y’all’s experiences with “racism” are nowhere near comparable to the experiences black people have BEEN facing and will be facing for fucking ever. white people have and always will be seen as the superior race, therefore, you face minimal to no “racism” outside of the internet, and i’d do anything to be able to say that. don’t even @ me talking about “🥹🥹 that doesn’t make racism against white people oka—“ i don’t care. at all. drink some water. you’ll be fine.
“you guys hate women!!!” “y’all hate gwen bc she’s white!!” like, you sound so fkn dumb nd all i can do is sit and stare at you.
me nd bree are black girls. people from EVERY race and EVERY ethnicity hate black people and EVERYONE hates black girls. hell, not even black men like us. why on god’s green mf earth would we ever want sb else to feel that way??
yk what y’all need to do? y’all need to quit whining and accept the fact that bree doesn’t like gwen because of what she did to miles. it’s as simple as that. stop trying to complicate things bc you so desperately want to deem her and other people who hate gwen “racists” or “misogynists.” no. i fw gwen heavy, nd me and bree are able to coexist bc neither of us are fucking delusional and regularly touch grass 🤷‍♀️ same thing with all my other mutuals.
meanwhile, you hoes get your panties in a twist when sb calls gwen a snow bunny as if she’s a sentient being who’s going to cry over ts, like, no. your feelings are hurt? take a fucking walk! nobody has to like her.
and punkflower, oh my god 😐 i’ve never been homophobic and i never will be. i’m literally queer. i’m not about that friendly fire before y’all try and call me homophobic. my thing is, if hobie was originally supposed to be a nineteen year old, n now his age is unconfirmed, why in the hell would we go and age him down to sixteen?? all y’all wna do is ship that man with miles or write smut about him. some of y’all wanna do both!! you change his age when it’s convenient to you. if you don’t see an issue with that, then i can’t help you. you’re weird. until i hear otherwise from one of the directors, he’s 19.
ghostflower or gwiles 🙃 the reason y y’all are sobbing or wtv. i thought y’all were exaggerating when you said gwiles was your religion, but it’s looking like i was very incorrect. real talk, ion like that fuckass ship. i don’t have to and neither does anybody else. just like you lames do with gwen, you dig deep in your ass for every problematic reason possible. “you have a racial bias!!!” “you hate interracial relationships!!” the fuck?? 😭 do you cunts read what you write before you post it?? “they’re more obsessed with gwiles than we are” “they must be in love with ghostflower & gwen”
…huh? covid really set some of y’all back tremendously because it seems a concerning amount of you lack critical thinking skills. in reality, just like hating gwen, the reason we dislike gwen and miles together is SO very simple. it all boils down to the fact that gwen did miles dirt. and i’ve made a separate post, i’ve talked about why they would never work imo. when i present y’all with my logical reasoning, you dgaf! so the only thing you can do now is shut the hell up, unclench, and cope. since you wna get in your feelings bout it, fuck gwiles, n fuck you too.
y’all even got some of your own people agreeing w me, props to y’all btw 👏 it’s never you i’m talking about.
i hate that y’all made it this deep bc it didn’t need to be. this is a fucking movie. none of this is real, yet you continue to harass me and bree like we murdered your immediate + extended family + the family dog that had cancer. i find myself hoping that one day y’all will realize how dumb you sound, but then i remember some of you niggas are already grown, so it’s looking quite improbable.
and also, don’t b up in my reblogs chattin’ it up about shit i’ve explicitly stated that idc about. i won’t repeat myself because you can’t read. if this post hasn’t shown you i don’t give even half of a fuck about you or your feelings regarding ANYTHING at this point in time, then i don’t really know what will 🤷‍♀️
if i made you mad, go ahead nd suck it up fa me. we won’t be going toe to toe and debating on MY blog because you’ll be actively wasting your own time, as i am not willing to hear anyone out. it’s been that way from the start and it won’t change. if you send an anon message or any type of inbox w some bs then it’ll sit there until the end of time or be swiftly deleted. if you reblog this post trying to invalidate anything i just addressed, i won’t even give you the time of day, bc i said everything that needed to said. i was very articulate and extremely clear. know that i can’t and won’t be swayed in the slightest. we’d just go back and forth until you decide to shut your mouth or block me. so block me now. ian the one.
if you don’t get it, then you don’t fucking get it, but what y’all aren’t gna do is treat people the way y’all were treating bree just because she hates two ships + gwen stacy. you complain about how the fandom sucks like you’re not the same people who make being in fandoms in unenjoyable.
you usually have to go to a therapist and pay for reality checks. luckily for y’all, i gave you one for free! you needed to be humbled and i happily did the humbling. lil piece of advice: stop trying to force people to gaf if they clearly do not. block and move on with your life. you gon get tired one day. leave me, bree, n anyone else you bother tf alone. spend your energy trying to change people’s minds on REAL ISSUES that actually matter, not fucking spider-man.
whew, ANYWAY… i hope i never have to speak bout this again. act right in the near future n i won’t have to “invade your tags” with long paragraphs in which i set you fools straight, thank yewww! 🫶
god bless!! 💗
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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years
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Chapter 21: Kia, I Am Your Father
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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]
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6 months have passed and having 2 kids both under the age of 4 is not as challenging as you expected to be. The main reason is because both of of your daughters are the easiest to handle. Mina barely cries unlike other babies, and she sleeps well through the night. But because she is still a baby, she needs a lot of watching and attention, way too much for Kia’s liking.
Kia likes being an older sister. She holds Mina’s feeding bottle when it’s time for eating. She knows when it’s time for Mina to nap. She watches over her little sister when you’re showering or cooking. She’s doing an excellent job as a big sister.
You and Kiyoomi thought Kia just loves Mina, the reason why she’s very doting towards her.  But Kia does all that to get approval and praise from you and Kiyoomi. Kia hates that she’s not getting as much attention as before. She hates that it’s always about Mina and just sometimes Kia.
“It’s because of you!” Kia screams all of a sudden while you are cooking at the kitchen and Kiyoomi is showering. You both trust Kia that much. You run to your daughters and see Mina on the foamed floor of the living room instead of her bassinet.
“Kia, what’s wrong?” You try to ask her calmly, picking Mina up from the ground. She doesn’t answer you, but storms off to the nursery. You follow her, Mina still in your arms. “Kia!”
“It’s because of Mina! You and papa don’t love me anymore!” She cries, grabbing a baby bottle from one of Mina’s drawers. Kia throws it to the ground, shocking you.
“Kia, don’t do that!” You scold her. She rummages through the drawers and throws Mina’s clothes and diapers out. You try to stop her but then she throws a teether at you, hitting you on your forehead. Worse, it bounced to Mina. The baby cries.
“Sakusa Kia!” Kiyoomi shouts from the doorway. He witnessed everything.
“I hate you! I hate you!” Kia continues to throw things at you and you turn to protect Mina.
Kiyoomi quickly goes to Kia and grabs her by her arm. He sits her down on her bed, her cries worsening. “Say sorry to your mama!” Kiyoomi demands, but Kia firmly shakes her head. “Do it. Now.”
“No! I hate her! I hate you, too!” Kia responds, throwing a pillow at him. His patience running thin, Kiyoomi slams his hand on the bedside table, a loud smacking sound echoing through the whole room. Kia’s cries are exchanged with shivering.
“Is it good to throw things at other people?” Kiyoomi scolds her, his hand hitting the wooden surface once again. “Answer me!” Kia doesn’t answer him so he smacks the table one more time, her shaking getting more intense.
“Kiyoomi, that’s enough. I think she understands now,” you tell him, a hand on his arm.
“No! She clearly doesn’t understand! She won’t throw things like this if she understands! She’s being an unreasonable brat right now!” Kiyoomi shouts. You knead the muscle on his arm, trying to calm him down.
“Omi, Kia’s trembling,” you whisper to him and he takes a look at Kia carefully. She is trembling. He wants to apologize for scaring her, but he won’t. Not after she threw that tantrum. “I’ll go talk to her. Take Mina and prepare the dinner.”
“Fine,” Kiyoomi complies, taking Mina from your arms. “She doesn’t leave this room until she cleans up the mess she made.” He doesn’t spare another glance at Kia as he leaves the room with Mina. Hearing the door shut close, Kia starts wailing. You wrap your arms around her, taking her into your arms.
“Kia, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” She still doesn’t answer. “Is it because you think mama and papa don’t love you anymore because of the new baby?” She nods, her sobs not quietening down. “I’m sorry if we made you feel that way. Mama and papa love you so much. Next time, if you’re upset, you tell us instead of getting angry and throwing things.”
“I’m sorry, mama,” Kia apologizes, wrapping her arms around your neck and burying her face on your shoulder.
“It’s okay baby. Just promise not to do that again.” You hear Kia mutter a quiet ‘yes’ so you kiss the side of her head. “Let’s go out and apologize to Mina and your papa, okay?”
“No! I hate Mina and Kyo! Kyo hates Kia, too,” Kia refuses.
Despite Kia’s protests, you carry her out to the kitchen. You sit her down at her highchair but she doesn’t look at her father who is in front of her. Kiyoomi glares at her, so you sigh. Kia quickly eats her food then leaves the table to go back to her room. You give a look of disappointment to Kiyoomi but he just shrugs.
“She’s really mad at you,” you start. “She called you Kyo.” His heart breaks into a million pieces from what you said.
“It’ll pass. She’ll be fine tomorrow.” He tries to convince himself. He cleans the table, memories flashing back in his mind. You notice the sudden change mood on your face so you get an idea.
“Omi, what do you think about letting Atsumu take care of Mina for a few hours next Sunday? I mean his wife is pregnant, right? They might need some practice,” you tell him, but he doesn’t seem like he’s listening. You continue to speak, “Then we can take Kia out for a little date just to spend more time with her. She thinks we don’t love her anymore.”
“I’ll talk to her after I wash the dishes. Go take Mina to sleep,” Kiyoomi responds. You stand up from your seat and wrap you arms around him from behind.
“Stop overthinking, baby.” You tip toe to kiss him on the cheek then leave to bring Mina to bed.
After doing the dishes, Kiyoomi goes to Kia’s room. He leans on the doorway frame, watching Kia arrange the bottles and diapers she threw a while ago. He knocks on the door, startling Kia. She turns and sees him going to her so she dashes to her bed.
Kiyoomi sighs before sitting on the edge of her bed. “Kia,” he calls her as she covers her face with her blanket. “Do you wanna sleep beside mama and papa?”
No response.
“Do you wanna watch Transformers with me?”
Again, no response.
“Do you want to go to Mu-chan’s?” Kia lowers her blanket, then examines at Kiyoomi’s face. She shakes her head then goes back under the blanket. “Okay, then. Good night.”
Kiyoomi heads back to your room and you’re already asleep. He checks on Mina’s crib then sees that she’s still awake. She reaches her arms out to him and he chuckles. “You’re like your sister, too, huh?” He picks Mina up from the crib and he goes to the living room with her.
He sits down on the couch, and sits Mina on his lap, his legs bent up to support the baby’s back. “You know, your sister is mad at me,” Kiyoomi tells Mina. “She thinks we don’t love her because you’re around. But it’s not your fault, sweetie. It’s also not your sister’s fault. I mean, I do think I don’t spend much time with her.”
Mina lets out a random cry, and he acts as if he understands her. Kiyoomi sighs, “I did. I talked to Kia, but she doesn’t want to talk to. What should I do?”
“Kya!” Mina giggles, hearing her sister’s name, but Kiyoomi registers it as another babble.
“Mina, I didn’t understand that. I’m sorry.” Kiyoomi admits. Mina babbles but with more force this time. “Are you angry at me also?” She stops squirming and looks at Kiyoomi nonchalantly. “You are?”
They continue to ‘talk’ until Kiyoomi falls asleep on the couch with Mina on his chest. The sun rises, waking Mina up. Instead of crying, she just stays there on his chest. A door opens so she looks at that direction.
“Mina...” Kia says as she sees her little sister awake. She stares at her in a daze, then remembers hitting Mina the day before. “Tell mama and Kyo I went out, okay? I will come back.”
Kia runs to her room then grabs a backpack. She puts her little panda bank in it then goes to the front door. She puts her shoes on and manages to unlock the door with her little hands. She slowly closes the door, afraid that she’ll wake her father up.
Kia walks down the cemented slope, looking around from time to time. She hums a song as she excitedly walks to her destination. She sees a flight of stairs, so she takes a deep breath in before taking one step down.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Four.”
“Four.”
“Six.”
“Five.”
“Ten.”
That cycle repeats until she’s finally done with the steps. She continues to walk for a few more minutes until she finally sees her destined location. The flower field.
Kia squeals then runs around the field first before she goes to the flower stall. “Good morning, grandma!” She greets the owner.
“Hello, Kia. Where’s your father?” The owner asks her, looking around for any signs of her father. “Did you go here on your own?”
“He’s sleeping,” Kia answers, worrying the owner. “Can I buy flowers for my baby sister? I hurt her yesterday so I will buy flowers for her so she’ll forgive me.”
“Ah, yes, of course!” The owner smiles at her. “Do you want to help me make it?”
“Yes!” Kia cheers then runs to her behind the counter of the stall.
The owner picks her phone up and calls a certain someone. “Hey. Your friend’s child is here. I think she went here on her own with her parents knowing. Can you come pick her up? Okay, thank you.”
The two of them continue to make the bouquet, the lady doing it slower than usual to kill some time. She’s afraid that if they finish, Kia will dash out and return home on her own.
“Kia...” A familiar voice calls her, exciting her. She jumps off the chair she’s standing on and runs to the owner of the voice.
“Shin-chan!” The said man picks her up, her giving him a kiss on the cheek in the process.
“Let me get you home,” Kita tells her. She nods at his statement.
“Mina’s flowers and I have to pay!” She takes out the little bank in her bag then gives it to the store owner. “I got that money from helping mama at home!”
“If you give this to me then you will not have money anymore,” the owner says to her and Kia saddens a bit.
“It’s okay! Mina will be happy!” She smiles at the shopkeeper. The lady pretends to take out something from her bank then gives it back to her as ‘change.’ “Thank you, grandma! I’ll see you soon!”
Kia and Kita goes to his parked truck and when he opens the door, a white small dog is sitting on the front seat, wagging its tail excitedly. Kia’s eyes widen in happiness.
“A puppy!” Kia squeals, Kita settling her on the seat. He puts the seatbelt on her before he puts on his. “What’s his name?”
“Rice,” Kita responds. The dog barks, so Kia lets out a small ‘woof.’ The said dog licks her face, making her giggle. “Rice, sit. Stop moving.”
He finally starts the engine of his car and heads to your house with Kia’s directions. “Why did you leave home?”
“I bought gift for my little sister!” She shows off the flower.
“Next time, don’t leave the house without your parents. What if you got lost? You’ll never see your papa again,” Kita scolds her, eyes on the road.
“It’s okay. Kyo hates me,” Kia responds, a hint of sadness in her voice. Kita places a hand on her head, petting her.
“Don’t say that. Your papa loves you so much.”
They arrive in front of your house, so Kita carries Kia to the front door. He knocks on the door, hoping they’re at the right house.
Inside the house, Mina hears the knocks. She hits Kiyoomi on the face, waking him up. “Kya! Kya!”
“Huh?” Kiyoomi is still in a daze. He hears the knocks, so he places Mina back in the bassinet and he dashes out to the front door. Who could be knocking at his door so early in the morning? He checks the monitor and sees Kita and Kia?
Kiyoomi opens the door quickly, confused as hell. “Good morning, Sakusa-san.” Kita bows to him so he bows as well. Kia squirms off Kita and enters the house quickly to look for Mina. “Kia went out to the flower fields on her own today.”
“She did?” Kiyoomi’s sleepiness has vanished upon his words.
“Yes. And I think she might be a little upset with you,” Kita tells him.
“Ah, yes, she is. Can I know what she told you?” Sakusa awkwardly asks.
“She said you don’t love her,” Kita answers nonchalantly.
“Is that so?” Sakusa frowns. “Thank you so much for bringing her home. Thank you.” He bows multiple of times as Kita heads to his car.
Kiyoomi returns inside and sees Kia presenting the flowers to Mina. “I’m sorry for hurting you yesterday, Mina. Neechan promises not to do it again.” She plants a kiss on her forehead and the baby giggles.
“Kia,” Kiyoomi calls out and she nervously faces him. He squats down to be on the same level as her. His heart is still aching from the reason why Kia is acting like this towards him. He can’t get mad at her. “Don’t leave the house without me or your mama, okay?” She nods. “Give me a kiss.” Kia ignores him and heads to her room instead.
You get out of your room, just woken up. You see the flowers on the floor and ask Kiyoomi where it’s from. He explains to you and you get worried. “We should change the door knob.”
Kia comes out of her room with papers and a box of crayon. She sets it on the coffee table of the living room and starts scribling.
You and Kiyoomi are on the couch, just watching her. Mina is wide awake, watching her sister draw. Kia shows her a drawing. “Look, Mina! It’s me, you, and mama!”
“How about me?” Kiyoomi pouts.
“Here.” Kia points at a dot in another piece of paper. You chuckle, Kia’s response is just way too funny.
“But Kia, I am your father. I should be on the same paper,” he whines.
“No, Kyo isn’t my papa.” Kia continues to draw. Kiyoomi huffs then an idea pops in his mind. He stands up from the couch and heads to his room. A minute later, he comes back out with his training duffel bag.
“You are so petty,” you tell him and he just shrugs. Kia is his daughter and he knows how to push her button. If she’s still not crying after him this, then, maybe he isn’t her father after all.
You take out your phone and start recording. “I’m going to practice now,” Kiyoomi says loudly. Kia continues to draw, but the grip on the crayon is much tighter.
“Have fun,” you tell him, going along with him. He goes to you and kisses you all over your face. Kia eyes you, her head hung low. She mentally counts the kisses Kiyoomi is giving you.
‘That’s a lot of tomorrow.’ Kia thinks, her scribbles getting uneasy. She sees Kiyoomi go to Mina who is settled beside her. He kisses Mina a lot of times as well. ‘That’s already more than ten tomorrows!’
Kia waits for Kiyoomi to kiss her, but he just passes by her. You record the pain in Kia’s eyes as she looks up to his figure in disbelief. Kia storms off the room and goes to yours. She comes back with a face mask on hand.
“Have fun,” Kia deadpans at Kiyoomi, handing him the face mask. He looks defeated. You stiffle in your laughter, not wanting to rub salt on deep open wound.
“I will,” Kiyoomi scoffs. He won’t lose to this battle of pride against his daughter. He turns his heels to head to the front door, his footsteps loud and painfully slow in Kia’s ears.
Kiyoomi finally turns the knob of the door and Kia starts wailing. She runs to the entryway and wraps her arms around his knee.
“Don’t leave,” Kia cries. Kiyoomi picks her up, a successful smile plastered on his face. “Papa, please don’t leave!”
“Papa?” Kiyoomi cocks an eyebrow at her. “I thought I’m not your papa.”
“You’re my papa. You’re Kia’s papa,” Kia says in between sobs. She tightly hugs him, her face buried in her shoulder, leaving a wet patch on his shirt.
“Then do you love me?” Kiyoomi asks her.
“Yes. I love papa so much!” Kia claims, then cups his cheeks. She plants a kiss on his forehead, then he smiles at her.
“I love you so much more.” He nuzzles his nose against hers, her cries turning into giggles.
Kiyoomi finally sighs in relief, his worries leaving his body. He doesn’t want history to repeat itself. He wants Kia to feel loved by him because he promised her. He doesn’t want Kia to slip off his fingers even if he’s holding her tightly already. He doesn’t care if his daughters are full of snot and germs, he wants to hold them as much as he can because he knows that one day he won’t be able to do that.
He silently chuckles. He can’t believe he used to hate children. He just can’t see that self of his anymore. He thinks that if you never returned and he didn’t meet Kia, his life would be a void. He can’t think of anything that he’ll be doing now if he doesn’t have you and his daughters.
Sakusa Kiyoomi finally admits it. He loves children, especially his children.
As you watch the two of them, you feel something curl in your stomach. You quickly get off the couch and run to your bathroom. You throw up in the toilet, holding your hair away from your face. The familiar feeling hitting you like a truck.
“No fucking way,” you curse under your breath. You get up from the floor and wash your face, gargling before you get out with a tight feeling on your chest.
You see the three or them cuddling on the couch, as the Transformer movie plays. Kia under Kiyoomi’s arm while Mina is lying on his chest. You smile at the sight, but then you remember your problem.
“Omi,” you call him but he doesn’t respond, since his eyes are glued to the screen as well. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.” His head literally whips to your direction as he hears his full name come out of your mouth.
“Yes, angel?” He tries to act calm, wondering why you’re sounding so serious. You keep quiet.
You remember leaving him because he didn’t want kids. You remember how he hated Kia so much but then got wrapped around her little finger. You don’t feel great joy seeing him and your two daughters cuddling so comfortably on the couch. You’re thankful that they’re getting along and Kiyoomi came along halfway and embraced parenthood.
But you don’t know how he’ll react to your announcement seeing how happy and contented he is now with his two daughters at the moment. You’re not sure if he’ll want to have an addition this early.
“Baby, are you okay?” Kiyoomi snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Ah, yes, sorry.” You settle between his legs, your head on his stomach, just below Mina’s small feet.
“What were you going to tell me?” Kiyoomi reminds you.
“I forgot,” you giggle, hiding your nervousness.
“Are you sure?” Kiyoomi asks and you nod. He doesn’t push the topic. He places a on your head, massaging your scalp. “I suddenly thought of something.”
“What is it?” You sit up, and you see a look of discomfort on his face.
“Atsumu’s wife is pregnant with sons, right? Which means that his children will be on the same age group as our Mina. What if his sons fall in love with our Mina and then she will be stuck in a love triangle with them! Then she will eventually choose one of them and she will become a Miya! Which means I will be haunted by Atsumu forever!”
You giggle at his rambles, wondering where it came from. “I don’t think you should be worrying about Mina. I think it’s our other child who’ll be in a love triangle with Atsumu’s sons.”
“Huh?” Kiyoomi sits up, his full attention on you. “What are you trying to say? Don’t beat around the bush.”
“I think I’m pregnant again.”
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Facts:
Kiyoomi has finally gotten the son he asked for and he’s with Atsumu’s sons future love interest.
They’re named Sakusa Kin and Sakusa Mira
ha ha ha jokes on you all, this is not the last chapter
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The Thief of Joy
This was requested by @emmaloo21 like a hundred years ago.
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"Hey," you heard a whisper from around the corner from where you were definitely not hiding, and then Peter's golden head peeked at you from the other side of the shelf of books in the library. 
You hurried to dash away your tears, but Peter had two younger sisters and could see the signs of crying well enough. "Oh, darling, don't cry," he soothed, sitting next to you and pulling you into his arms, your head going naturally into the crook of his neck. 
"I am not crying," you said, though Peter could feel the dampness of your cheek against his neck.
"Shhh," he shushed you. "It will be alright, I promise."
"Of course it will," you said, pulling back a bit and forcing a smile to your face. "You're here."
Peter smiled at you with genuine affection. You had fallen into his family so naturally that it felt like you were another sister most of the time. "Tell me what has you sad and I'll fix it straightaway."
You chuckled. "Just having you here is enough."
"Darling, you know I'll always be here for you, don't you?" Peter crooned to you as he rocked back and forth. 
"Of course, Peter. I never feel so safe as when I'm with you," you said honestly, if a bit sadly.
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Caspian sighed silently, heart shattering a little more as he witnessed what he had suspected for some time: you loved Peter.
And who could blame you? He was young, handsome, courageous -- well, aside from 'young' he was everything that Caspian wasn't and probably never would be. And Caspian could accept all of it from everyone  but you. You were his life. You had been inseparable until his escape; most of his people assumed the two of you would marry one day; he had assumed that the two of you would marry one day.
Caspian left as quietly as he had entered; he had known you were upset and he knew where you would go to be alone. He just didn't realize that Peter was also aware of the spot. Was it now a secret lovers spot? 
As Caspian made his way silently out of the library, he wandered the corridors aimlessly, his only destination somewhere quiet and empty. He feared that his heartbreak was going to become a bit of an embarrassing affair and he preferred to kick the wall and throw his childish tantrum with no witnesses.
Peter. Always Bloody High King Peter the Bloody Magnificent! He took over command, bowled over any decision that Caspian ever made, he insulted him and acted like Caspian was a complete incompetent. And if that wasn't enough, he now was romancing the girl he had loved for as long as he could remember, the woman he had always hoped to make his Queen. More than that, though, you were his best friend, he needed you in the way that he had always thought you needed him. 
Apparently he had been mistaken. Now you had Peter to run to when you were upset.
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You had calmed down, focusing on Peter's soothing voice as he told you about something called automobiles in his home world. 
"Feeling better now?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," you whispered. "Thank you."
"How about you tell me what's been troubling you, then?" he coaxed.
"It's nothing, really. I'm being silly."
"I shall decide what's silly and what isn't," Peter announced arrogantly.
You smiled, though his arrogance was a trifle annoying. Caspian was never -- you sighed, unable to complete a thought without him interfering. 
"Come, now," he said sternly. "I am a King of Narnia; you must tell me."
"I missed Caspian terribly when he was gone."
"He spoke of you a great deal while we were in hiding. I understood you to be quite good friends."
"Yes," you said, not realizing that you wrinkled your nose a bit when he said 'friends.' "It just does not feel like he missed me as much. He seems to want to spend all of his time with your sister."
Ah, Peter thought. She loves Caspian. "Lucy and he do seem to be together a lot."
"No, Peter, I meant Susan."
Peter hesitated a moment and said, "Shall I tell you a secret?"
"If you wish," you replied rather disinterestedly. You were too busy picturing your old age as a spinster, dying alone for the overwhelming love you felt for your King.
"Susan thinks Caspian is beautiful."
Your eyebrows drew together in anger. "Thank you so much for sharing that with me, Your Majesty."
"So beautiful, in fact, that he could wear one of her dresses and be prettier than her."
You gasped, scandalized and amused. "She did not say this!"
"Perhaps not in so many words, but dear one, Susan and Ed and Lucy and I...we're old. Caspian is a boy. Susan is not interested."
You smiled then, but ruefully. "It does not mean that Caspian wants me because Susan does not want him."
"Then more fool he, I say!" he said buoyantly. 
"Thank you, Peter," you said quietly.
"Of course," he said gently. "I must go, but do not tarry here too long, it will be supper time soon."
"Yes, Peter," you said quietly, smiling bravely for his efforts to cheer you.
You watched Peter leave and sighed. You were selfish enough to be pleased that Susan wasn't interested in Caspian, but as you had said to Peter, Susan not wanting Caspian did not make Caspian want you. There was an old saying that your Mother told you when you coveted a sibling's toy or sweet: 'Envy is the thief of joy.' You knew that it was wrong to be jealous that Susan held Caspian's heart, but you simply could not help yourself.
You sat and stared out the window at the late afternoon sun painting the courtyard below with a golden shimmer, pondering how to go on without Caspian in your life. 
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Caspian had retreated to his bedchamber, wanting to be alone for a moment. Well, physically alone. Since he had been crowned King, he had felt nothing but alone and lonely. 
Before he had run away, you and he had been together whenever possible. You had taken lessons together -- and skived off of lessons together, as well. He had shared with you his worries of ruling a Kingdom someday, and you had simply smiled and told him he would be a wonderful King. Now, you barely met his eyes, leaving the room as quickly as possible.
Perhaps you knew of his feelings for you and were trying to keep him from humiliating himself? You were always so kind and generous to him, giving him perhaps the only affection he received since his mother died when he was small. How had he so badly misinterpreted your actions to mean you loved him as he loved you? 
Or had you been plying him with honeyed words to become his Queen but decided that Peter was a better catch?
Caspian's jealousy ate at him as he paced his bed chamber, thinking back to all of the times he thought he had seen love in your eyes. Was it only a reflection of his own love, and not a genuine emotion at all? Were you simply smarter than the other girls at Court who had sought to snare him with their beauty and wiles? Had you seen the desperate need for love that he carried within him and exploited it?
He had to know.
Caspian gathered his jealousy, anger, and outrage close to him, wrapping himself in coldness to stave off the hurt. He stormed out of his bedchamber, his expression clouded with the anger and anguish that had taken root in his heart. 
A few people tried to stop him on his way back to the library; he did not even acknowledge them. He was so focused on getting the truth from you that nothing else mattered. Indeed, for just this one moment in time, the Kingdom could burn.
Caspian would find out how you really felt, and Aslan help anyone who tried to stop him.
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You heard someone come into the library, low voices conversing, and then someone left again. You went back to staring out into the courtyard below, wishing that you had been brave enough to share your feelings with Caspian before he had run away to escape his Uncle. Would it have mattered to him, knowing that you loved him and were waiting for him to return safely? You sniffed, too depressed to even wipe away the tears from your cheeks.
You shook your head and muttered, "If wishes were fishes --"
"We'd all swim in riches," Caspian surprised you by finishing the rhyme.
"Cas -- Your Majesty!" you gasped, jumping to your feet and dropping into a deep curtsy. "You surprised me."
Caspian narrowed his eyes angrily. "You cannot even bring yourself to use my name any more?" he growled.
You looked up, tears streaming down your cheeks, confusion in your eyes. "I was not certain I still had that privilege."
"Rise," he said harshly. "I do not wish to have you cowering before me."
You got to your feet, hands folded primly before you and eyes on Caspian's toes, but you kept your silence.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, softening a bit.
You shrugged. "I do not wish to burden you with my worries," you whispered.
Caspian stiffened. "Did Peter not return your feelings?" he spat.
Your eyebrows shot up. "I beg your pardon?" you said, deceptively softly. 
Caspian should have known better; he had known you for most of his life and he had seen both the storm and the calm before it. He was simply too angry to recognize your tone of voice. "I said," he snarled, "did High King Peter not return your love? Did your plan to catch a better husband than me, a mere King, fall apart? Do you regret tossing aside my feelings for you in favor of Peter?"
You finally understood the expression "to see red." Your fists clenched at your sides and you gnashed your teeth. "How dare you speak to me that way, Caspian!"
"I saw the two of you together earlier, sitting in that very spot!" he yelled. "He had his arm around you and you put your head on his shoulder, sweet as could be!"
You shook your head angrily. "He was comforting me because I am in love with a very stupid boy whom I thought was in love with High Queen Susan," you said in disgust.
"I have loved you since I was twelve, Caspian! I was crying because you spend all of your time with Susan and cannot even be bothered to speak to me, and you accuse me of being a faithless trollop for my pains? Well, fear no longer, for I do believe I am over my feelings for you!
"I cannot believe I have wasted so much of my life loving you. And you tell me now that there were feelings to toss aside, as you accuse me of currying favor with Peter because he has a higher rank? Well, congratulations on finally telling me you once cared for me while you essentially called me a whore," you sneered with anger and distaste. "But I suppose that is acceptable behavior for a King. I do hope it was worth it, Your Majesty." You gathered your skirts in hand and swept away from him and out of the library.
Caspian stood in stunned silence, unable to fathom the tremendous insult he had just given you out of jealousy and stupidity.
You loved him. 
You loved him, and he had crushed that love under his boot heel for the sake of his cowardice and envy.
Caspian dropped to his knees, head in hands in grief and self-loathing.
He stayed like that for a few minutes, then got to his feet and steadied himself; he needed to figure out what to do.
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You were in your bed chamber among the suite of rooms your family had in the castle. You were crying quietly lest you alert your parents of your fight with the King. Your Father had supported Caspian and even been thrown in a cell when Caspian had escaped; you did not wish to sow discord between them. 
How could Caspian accuse you of such low behavior? And even if you were casting your nets for Peter, what business of Caspian's was it? He had never made any declarations, never even insinuated that he was interested in you romantically, or even politically. What about his behavior, either before or after he had run away, should have conveyed his intentions?
You were not wrong in this, and if it meant your exile from Court...well, perhaps you could do with a visit to your grandparents, at that.
You called your maid in and asked her to begin packing your things while you went to convince your parents that some time in the country would do you a world of good.
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Caspian was more nervous than he had been even before his coronation. He was about to serve penance before attempting to apologize, but even though he had mentally prepared himself, his heart raced and he had broken into a cold sweat.
His hand shook when he raised it to knock.
The door opened quickly, thrown wide by Queen Lucy exuberantly, as she was with all things. 
"Caspian!" she shrieked happily, leaping into his arms as if she hadn't seen him for months rather than the few hours since the morning meal. 
Caspian hugged her back, always touched to be worthy of this kind soul's affection. "Hello, sweet one. And what have you been up to today?" he asked, trying to hide the true purpose of his visit from this angelic child.
It didn't work, of course. Lucy might be the youngest of the Pevensie family, but one must keep in mind that they had lived entire lives in the past; this adorable, chubby-cheeked little girl was over a millennium older than Caspian.
"What troubles you, Caspian?" she asked kindly, pulling him over to sit.
"I need to speak with Peter, actually," he said quietly. "Do you know where he is?"
"I believe he went to visit your future Queen," she said mischievously. 
"Hush," Caspian said automatically. Lucy had divined his feelings for you while they were still hiding from Miraz and took every opportunity to discreetly tease him.
"Tell me what is wrong, Caspian. Are we not friends?"
He looked down at his boots. "I behaved very badly," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "I do not believe that I can undo this mess I have created. I think it rather more likely that her father or your brother will call me out."
Lucy sat up straight, concern drawing her features into an uncustomary frown. "What have you done that is so bad?"
Caspian took a deep breath and looked down into his hands that were clenched into fists in his lap. "I was almost mad with jealousy! I...I accused her of trying to ensnare Peter with her wiles so that she would have a High king rather than just a King. She took that to mean I was calling her a -- a person of low morals."
"Goodness," she breathed. 
"Yes, and she was livid, as she absolutely should have been. I imagine she's told her father or Peter by now. I would not be surprised if one or both of them are sharpening swords as we speak," he said dully. "I am worthy of neither my crown nor her love. And I know that I should be more concerned over failing my country, but right now all I can feel is bereft at the loss of the girl I have always loved."
"This is bad, Caspian," Lucy whispered. 
Edmund strolled into the room just then, so Caspian and Lucy stopped talking.
He looked at them and said, "Well, that wasn't suspicious at all! Were you talking about me?"
"No, Ed," Lucy said with a roll of her eyes. "I do have an errand I need to run, though. Be a good sport and keep Caspian company, would you?" she asked as she got to her feet.
"Lucy," Caspian began in a warning tone, getting to his feet as well. "Where are you going?"
"I say, Caspian, if she isn't safe here then she isn't safe anywhere," Edmund said jovially. "Fancy some exercise? You said you'd show me that move where you change hands with your sword while you spin away from your opponent."
"Excellent," said Lucy as if the matter was settled. "You two go and play." I have work to do.
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Normally, Lucy would go to the library or the sitting room where the six of you could usually be found of an evening, but Caspian had confided that your row with him had taken place in the library, so she headed to your family's apartments, knocking politely.
The maid who opened the door immediately dropped into a deep curtsy, then led Lucy to the sitting room and scampered off to alert you of her presence and then to prepare a tea tray.
"Lucy," you said warmly. "I was not expecting you, what a lovely surprise."
Lucy pulled you into a hug. "Are you well?" she asked quietly.
"Of course!" you lied, knowing that your red eyes and runny nose told a different tale. 
You both smiled politely while your maid brought in a tea tray. "Shall I pour, Miss, or would you rather I continue packing your things?"
Lucy raised her eyebrows at you wordlessly. 
"I'll pour, thank you," you said quietly, avoiding Lucy's eyes by busying yourself with the tea and biscuits. "One lump, yes?"
"Yes, thank you," Lucy said politely, accepting the cup and taking a small sip. "And would you prefer to give Caspian one lump or two on his thick skull?"
You looked up quickly from your own tea, then nodded acceptance. "Of course he came to you," you said with a dry chuckle. "I am so very angry with him, Lucy."
"And it sounds like you have every right to be. What a complete idiot!"
Your eyes opened wide in surprise, for you would ever expect Lucy to try to broker peace and support Caspian. "Quite so," you agreed quietly, surprisedly.
"I cannot believe how cruel and selfish he was with you," Lucy went on. "I rushed straight over to see you. I know how much you loved him, it must have been such a disappointment to find out how wrong we all were about his character!" Lucy internally crossed her fingers, hoping that she was taking the correct tack with you and that attacking Caspian would lead you to defend him.
Your eyebrows furrowed at Lucy's words. "Perhaps that is not entirely accurate," you said hesitantly. 
"How could we interpret his actions any other way? He besmirched both your honor and Peter's! Just because he says he was mad with jealousy," she said, emphasizing the 'mad with jealousy' bit in a disbelieving way yet loud enough that you could not possibly miss it.
"You do not think he was jealous?" you asked, insecurity showing in your expression so clearly that Lucy almost felt bad.
"Oh, yes, he was positively raving! Never seen a fellow so head over heels for a girl. But he's a King; just because he has always loved you and wants you to be his Queen, that doesn't mean that he can lose control of his emotions like that."
"But he is not just a King, Lucy! He is also a man. Of course he will make mistakes! We cannot burden him with expectations of perfection!" you defended him.
"Well, now that he has insulted you so greatly that you couldn't possibly forgive him, I'm afraid he'll be stuck with some political match and wind up in a cold, loveless marriage. He probably won't have anyone to allow him to be just Caspian; they will all expect the Perfect King Caspian at all times." She sighed sadly. "Unless he does something truly reckless and gets himself killed or abdicates."
"No, he will not," you said angrily as you surged to your feet. "Not if I have anything to say about it. Where is he?"
Lucy struggled to keep her smug satisfaction to herself. "I believe he is having Edmund pummel away some of his guilt in the training yard."
You turned away without another word, caring not at all whether Lucy accompanied you or not. Lucy did follow along, of course. She had orchestrated this peace, she was absolutely not going to miss it.
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As you grew near the training yard, you heard the clanking of metal weapons clashing alongside the whomping sounds of wooden weapons being used for training. 
When you arrived, it still took you by surprise that Caspian had recruited Narnians to work alongside Telmarines in the army as well as his personal guard. The training arena had been expanded to accommodate the increase in numbers of guards, not to mention the size of some of the newer members. 
Of course Caspian would go out of his way to treat the Narnians with fairness and respect. He was simply a good man.
You found Caspian and Edmund on the far side of the arena, pounding away at each other with metal training swords and shields. You watched for a while, proud of how adept he was with a weapon. His movement was smooth and fluid and you found yourself watching him with the same dull expression as all of the other unwed girls lining the fence to watch the two handsome men train.
You were able to forget for a moment that you were angry with Caspian -- well, miffed, really. He had always been graceful and quick with his weapons, but he had been coltish still when he left. He had returned with broader shoulders and far more muscular. He had gained strength and reach and lost none of his quickness and agility. He was truly a formidable fighter and you were proud to think that perhaps if his apology was very very good, he just might still be your husband one day soon.
You giggled to think that you had even considered leaving his presence. It was ridiculous to think that now you knew he felt the same, why in the world would you go away? As close to Caspian as possible was where you wanted to be for the rest of your life, and after you had given him a suitable opportunity to grovel for forgiveness, you planned to inform him that there was a wedding to plan.
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Caspian heard the melodious giggle that always made him smile and immediately looked around until he saw you, leaning against the fence and smiling dreamily. He certainly -- CLANG!!!
"Caspian!" you shrieked as you clambered over the fence and hurried over to his side. He was down on one knee, dented helmet off and laying in the dirt at his feet while he tried to shake the ringing out of his ears.
Edmund was livid. "I could have killed you, Caspian! How dare you take to the training field this distracted," he raged at Caspian before turning his wrath on you. "And you! Do you not know better than to distract a man while he trains? I've got a mind to turn you over my knee!"
Caspian surged to his feet, still a bit dizzy but not so woozy as to allow Edmund to berate you in front of half the inhabitants of the castle. "That is enough, Ed," he said quietly. 
You reached Caspian and took his face in your hands. "Are you well, my love?" you whispered as you looked into his eyes, trying to see if his pupils were normal. 
Caspian threw his gauntlets to the ground and covered your hands with his. "Did you just call me your love?" he whispered back. 
"I did. You are," you said with a smile. 
"Then I am more than well," he said with a grin that lasted only a moment. He took your hands in his and pulled them away from his face and dropped back to one knee. "I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am, dearest. I was jealous and stupid and do not deserve you."
You tugged at his hands, trying to pull him to his feet. "I forgive you, of course! Now stand up, everyone is staring!"
"Not just yet, I have more business to conduct on one knee," he said with a happy smile. 
You smiled back. "Oh, indeed? Checking soil quality? Collecting rents from worms?"
"Silly girl," he chided playfully. "No, I thought since I was already down here I would check to see if you had plans for the rest of your life?"
You pursed your lips and looked up as if giving his question deep consideration. "Hmmmm let me think," you hummed. "I suppose I could make time for the right activities."
Caspian grinned at your sass, then said earnestly, "You have been my best friend and favorite person for as long as I can recall. You have supported me, counselled me and comforted me over those years of friendship, and I am so grateful to you for that. As we grew up together, my feelings of platonic love for you grew and evolved into very, very romantic love. I would spend every day of my life with you, showing you how much I love and appreciate you. Will you do me the very great honor of being my wife and Narnia's Queen?"
You had felt yourself melt as Caspian spoke until you were amazed that you were able to remain upright. "I would be honored to be your wife, Caspian. It is all I have ever wanted. I love you so very much, my darling."
Caspian jumped to his feet and pulled you to him with a think against his armor, but you didn't mind at all. He whispered, "I love you," as he leaned down to gently kiss you. 
You slid your hands up Caspian's chest to wrap them around his neck and kissed him again. When you broke apart and opened your eyes, Caspian's were still closed, but he had such a look of bliss on his face that you knew that this was right.
"Judging from the silly look on your face, perhaps we should have a healer evaluate your head before I hold you to your proposal?" you teased gently.
Caspian opened his eyes and smiled happily, overwhelmed with joy. "No, my love, I was just savoring the moment."
"Come. I still want you to see a doctor," you said, pulling him along. "Oh, and we must name our first daughter Lucy."
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thelastspeecher · 4 years
Text
Spirit Touched - Chapter 4: Baby Badger-Viper
Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   AO3
I actually updated on AO3 yesterday, but I was too lazy to post the new chapter here.  So here’s the new chapter now.  Chapter 5 won’t go up until after I move next week, though, because I’m going to have to focus on packing and whatnot.
Again, this fic is inspired by @muffinlance‘s fic Salvage and fanart that @agent-jaselin did of it.  A component of this chapter is thanks to this art that jaselin did.
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              Hakoda should have known that whatever Tuluk had to say was trouble. The crewman had come into his cabin while he was responding to letters from the Northern Fleet – without knocking.
              “Chief?”  Hakoda set his pen down.
              “Yes?” he asked.
              “The kid’s up the mast again.”
              “The-” Hakoda’s eyes widened.  “Zuko climbed the mast?”  Tuluk nodded.  “He’s four!” Though, now that Hakoda thought about it, Zuko’s current age wasn’t as much of an impediment as it would have been to someone else.  This was, after all, the boy that had managed to bruise multiple crewmen while battling hypothermia.  Hakoda got up from his desk and followed Tuluk onto the deck.
              “You need to wear something!” Toklo called.  True enough, Hakoda could just make out a very young boy, sitting on the crossbeam of the main mast.
              “Tui and La, how did he get up there?” Hakoda breathed.  Much of the crew had stopped to watch the spectacle of a toddler up very high, in a very precarious, very dangerous situation. Even those who were taking longer to warm up to Zuko were visibly concerned for his safety.  The crewmen that had bonded with him, like Toklo, looked like they might have heart attacks.
              “No!” Zuko shouted down to Toklo.  His voice was petulant, but not in the way a prince would speak.  He sounded every bit the toddler he was.  “I won’t wear it!”
              “It’s the only thing in your size, Zuko,” Bato argued.  Hakoda walked to his second-in-command’s side.
              “What happened?” Hakoda asked.  Bato sighed and uncrossed his arms.
              “The little brat won’t put on a coat.”  Bato looked up the mast to shout again.  “Do you want to get sick again?”
              “Yes!” shrieked the small firebender.
              “Son of a-”  Bato rubbed his forehead.
              “Why won’t he put on a coat?” Hakoda asked.
              “The one he likes is still drying,” Toklo said.  “We had to wash it earlier.”  Washing it was the right move.  The last Hakoda had seen of the coat, it was covered in messes that only a clumsy toddler could make.
              “We got him another coat last time we docked,” Hakoda pointed out. Panuk snorted softly.
              “Yeah, and he hates it.”
              “Are you talking about me?” Zuko shouted.  “That’s not nice!”  Scattered snickers came from the crewmen.
              “I’ll get him,” Hakoda said wearily.
              For the second time, he climbed up the mast to retrieve a stubborn firebender. When he arrived at the crossbeam, Zuko glared at him.
              “Zuko, you can’t stay up here.”
              “Yes, I can!”
              “No, you can’t.”
              “Yes, I can!” Zuko said stubbornly.  Hakoda sighed.  He’d forgotten how difficult toddlers could be.  After all, it had been a while since his children were this young, and up until now, Zuko had been on his best behavior.
              “It’s not safe for you,” Hakoda said, forcing calm.  Zuko glanced down at the deck uncertainly, then met his eyes again with that distinctive glower.  But Hakoda had seen the brief flash of fear across the boy’s face. Zuko didn’t want to be up here any more than Hakoda wanted it.  “You’re coming down with me.”
              “No.”  Zuko fidgeted.  On a crossbeam.  That a fall from would cause serious injuries.  Hakoda fought the instinctual urge to grab the boy.  He waited.  Zuko clearly had more to say.  “…I’m scared,” Zuko finally whimpered.  “It’s taller than before.”
              “Well, you’re shorter than before,” Hakoda pointed out.  Zuko fidgeted again.  “I’ll carry you down, okay?”  After a moment, Zuko bobbed his head.  He scooted closer to Hakoda, who scooped him into one arm, stifling a sigh of relief.  Zuko buried his face into Hakoda’s shirt, hiding from the height or the eyes of the crewmen, Hakoda wasn’t sure.
              Once back on the deck, Hakoda set the boy down.  This incident with the mast was vastly different from the first; for one, the boy shivering in the cold wind looked nothing like the proud prince they’d fished from the sea.  With his blue clothes drying, Zuko was in his green Earth Kingdom attire again.  His hair, which Hakoda felt certain grew faster than normal, was tied back in the traditional wolf’s tail.  It took the shortest amount of time of any hairstyles the crew knew, and Zuko was too fidgety to sit still for a longer one.
              No, Zuko didn’t look like a prince.  He looked like a refugee.  Like one of the orphans that picked up a heritage from any adult willing to help them, and as a result, blended many backgrounds into one.
              It wasn’t entirely inaccurate, Hakoda considered, to think of the former Fire Nation Prince as a refugee.
              “Put on your coat,” Hakoda instructed Zuko, pushing away his musings. Zuko scowled.
              “N-n-no,” he said, his teeth chattering from the cold.
              “Wearing a coat you dislike is preferable to catching your death,” Hakoda said shortly.  Zuko opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but closed it again.  He nodded reluctantly.  Toklo, who had been standing nearby with said detested coat in his hands, moved forward and draped it over Zuko’s shoulders.
              “I can put it on myself,” Zuko whined as Toklo busily dressed him.
              “I’m just helping you with the buttons,” Toklo chirped, buttoning up the coat. He pulled the hood over Zuko’s head. “There!  Now you can stop shivering.”  Now that the coat was on, Hakoda could see why the boy hated it.
              “It looks even better than I thought it would,” Bato said, not bothering to hide the glee in his voice.  “We’d better keep you away from the birds.  They might think you’re a predator.”  Zuko scowled.
              “Of course you like it, you bought it,” he mumbled.  Bato grinned.  The coat was one made for children that enjoyed dressing up in costumes. It had ears on the hood and a tail on the back.  Overall, it brought to mind a simplified version of an animal Hakoda had heard of, but had not seen.
              “You make quite the fierce pygmy puma,” Hakoda remarked.
              Zuko pulled the hood further down his face, pouting.
----- 
              “He’s here, Chief,” Aake rumbled as he walked onto the deck, carrying Zuko over his shoulder.
              “Put me down, put me down!” Zuko shrieked, kicking his legs ineffectually. “I don’t need a nap!”
              “You sound just like Sitka when he gets overtired,” Aake said.  “That’s a sign that you do need a nap.”
              “No!” Zuko whined.  Aake handed the squirming toddler to Hakoda.
              “Zuko, we’ve been over this,” Hakoda said wearily.  Zuko wriggled fiercely in Hakoda’s arms.  A few sparks burst into life, meeting Hakoda’s skin and causing him to instinctively drop the toddler.  Unlike the first time he’d fallen to the deck, Zuko didn’t stay quiet. He burst into tears.
              “What is going on with him lately?” Panuk muttered.
              “He’s overtired, for one thing,” Aake said.  Hakoda picked Zuko up again and brought him to the infirmary, ignoring the boy’s crying.  “Toddlers always get worse when they need a nap.”
              “Yeah, but he’s been acting out even when he’s not tired,” Toklo pointed out. Aake shrugged.
              “Maybe he’s given up on pretending to be a teenager.”
----- 
              It took a long time for Zuko to calm down.  The moment he did, he fell asleep, exhausted from his temper tantrum. Kustaa shook his head.
              “It’s back to being the baby badger-viper you were when you first joined us, huh?” he asked the sleeping boy.  Zuko snored in response.  A thin line of drool dribbled down his cheek.  “At least you’re too small to bruise us every time you throw a fit.”  Zuko snored again.
              Satisfied that his young charge wouldn’t wake up for some time, Kustaa took out the book he’d been given by Healer Yugoda.  It was a record of every known instance the Northern Water Tribe had of someone being spirit touched.  Hopefully, he could find something in it to illuminate what had happened to Zuko. He sat down at his desk and began to read.
              Yugoda’s book was very, very detailed.  It included names that Kustaa half-remembered and others that he had never heard before, tales from both poles, ancient legends, and even recent instances, such as the Moon Spirit saving the life of a Northern Tribe Princess.
              The reasons spirits intervened in mortal affairs were varied, but a common one was for personal growth.  Spirits, despite being immortal, could be impatient with the pace of human development. Any human that had been marked as having a significant destiny was watched closely.  Should that human dawdle on their journey, a spirit might intervene.
              Kustaa wasn’t too familiar with Fire Nation customs, but he had heard that the royal family were thought of as being blessed by the Sun Spirit, Agni. Zuko, a Fire Nation Prince, would undoubtedly have a destiny the spirits might take interest in.  It seemed most likely that Zuko had been reverted to a child as some manner of speeding his journey.  After all, the other frequent cause of a spirit intervening – to save a life – didn’t apply.  Zuko had been hale and hearty the day before he woke up as a toddler.
              Unfortunately, there were no records that Kustaa could find of spirits returning someone’s youth. ��Which dashed the hope that he might be able to figure out whether Zuko’s change in behavior was as troubling as it seemed.  Zuko didn’t seem to notice, but the rest of the crew had picked up on the firebender’s increasingly frequent meltdowns, immature speech patterns, and juvenile reactions.
              He could be upset about something, and slipping into more age-appropriate behavior as a coping mechanism.  It could be a delayed effect of this specific spiritual intervention. Or even an effect that only happens after being in a spirit touched state for an extended period of time. Maybe it’s as some crew are suggesting, that he’s given up hope of returning to his proper age, and as such, opted to give up acting as if he were that age.
              With a soft sigh, Kustaa closed the book.  There were too many possibilities, and he wouldn’t be able to narrow them down unless Zuko opened up.
              Fat chance of that happening.  There was faint stirring from Zuko’s furs.  Kustaa looked over.  A small face popped up.
              “Did you enjoy your nap, nephew?” Kustaa asked pleasantly.  Zuko yawned widely and stretched.  He nodded.  “Good.” A sudden stricken look crossed Zuko’s face.
              “Um…”  Zuko fidgeted.  “Can- can I stay in here for a while?” he asked sheepishly.  Kustaa raised an eyebrow.  “I…I behaved poorly earlier,” Zuko mumbled.  After he’d let Zuko wallow for a moment, Kustaa nodded.
              “I have some herbs that need sorting.  If you’d like, you can do that.”  Zuko beamed.  Kustaa fought back a smile in return.
              The kid was a beast when he was upset, but far more endearing than he had any right being.
              Like most young children.
----- 
              Hakoda browsed the selection of the store, in his peripheral, keeping an eye on Zuko.  The first few towns, he hadn’t been the only golden-eyed child, but as they progressed down the coast, his obvious Fire Nation heritage turned more and more heads. Luckily, any glares sent Zuko’s way were replaced by sheepish looks once they saw his scar.  The fact that Zuko preferred warm clothing, and thus dressed in Water Tribe attire more often, helped as well.  But Hakoda remained on edge.
              Someone tapped on Hakoda’s shoulder.  He turned.
              “Excuse me, sir, but is he your son?” asked the woman who had approached him. She pointed at Zuko, who was ogling a display of exotic spices.  Hakoda nodded.  “Ah.” A sympathetic expression settled on the woman’s face.  “It was very kind of you to keep him.”
              Hakoda knew what the woman was implying.  It was the lie he’d given over and over, that Zuko was a war bastard. But the lie suddenly tasted bitter. He’d seen the golden-eyed street urchins.  He knew that war bastards weren’t always kept.  Still, Hakoda couldn’t shake loose the dirty feeling that had come over him, at the suggestion that a mixed-blood child growing up in a home was an anomaly, not the norm.
              “Of course I kept him,” Hakoda said softly.  “He’s my son, regardless of his parentage.”  The woman smiled.  Zuko stood on his tiptoes, reaching for a bright red spice.  “Nuktuk.”  Zuko spun around.  The woman Hakoda was talking to let out a soft gasp.  “If you want to get a closer look at something, ask and I’ll get it for you.”  Zuko scowled. “We can’t have you knocking things over again.”  Zuko nodded reluctantly.  Hakoda walked over.  “What did you want to look at?”
              “That,” Zuko mumbled, pointing out the red spice.  Hakoda handed it to him.
              “This?”
              “Yeah.”  Zuko stared intently at the small bottle.  According to the label, it contained ground chilis and fire flakes. “I like this.”
              “Do you want it?” Hakoda probed.  After a moment, Zuko nodded.  “Then ask.”
              “Can I have it?” Zuko asked quietly.  Hakoda raised an eyebrow.  “Please?” Hakoda nodded.
              “Since you asked so nicely…”  Zuko handed Hakoda the bottle, already brimming with excitement.  “You can keep looking around, but remember to be careful.” Zuko nodded.  He toddled over to a wall of jars containing pickled vegetables. Hakoda turned to the woman he’d been speaking with.  Horror filled her eyes.
              “I’ve seen burns on refugees before, but never something that bad on someone so young,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”  Hakoda paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond.
              “Thank you.  But it’s something we’ve done our best to move past.  Dwelling on it only makes it worse,” he said diplomatically.  The woman shook her head, still visibly disturbed. She walked over to Zuko and crouched next to him, speaking to him in a low voice.
              Hakoda watched for a few moments, nervous that Zuko might say or do something that made it obvious he wasn’t a regular toddler.  But the woman didn’t seem perturbed, so he resumed shopping. The woman eventually left Zuko’s side and went up to the register.  She stopped by Zuko again on her way out of the shop.
              Hakoda brought the supplies up to the register.  Zuko sidled over to him, a large stuffed animal turtle duck in his arms.
              “That thing’s almost as big as you,” Hakoda remarked.  Zuko scowled and hugged the toy tighter.  “I can’t buy it for you, you know.”
              “Not a problem, sir,” said the cashier, counting out Hakoda’s change. “Lily got it for him.”
              “The woman that was in here earlier?” Hakoda asked.  The cashier nodded.
              “Yup.  She’s got a soft spot for refugee kids.”  The cashier shook his head.  “It’s a shame what good people like you and your family have to deal with.  Leaving your life behind, taking only the barest of necessities…”
              “It’s war,” Hakoda said dryly.  The cashier handed Hakoda his change.
              “That it is.”
----- 
              Zuko’s poor behavior began to die down after that stop.  His stuffed turtle duck came with him almost everywhere.  It reminded Hakoda of the blanket Sokka had been overly attached to as a child.
              “Who would’ve thought the kid just needed a toy?” Bato remarked.  Some of the men were training on the deck. Zuko was watching, heckling those he thought could do better.  His sharp words were undercut by how tightly he hugged his stuffed animal.
              “A complete stranger in a store,” Hakoda said softly.
              “You mean the woman that bought it for him?”
              “Yes.  She was under the impression we were refugees whose only real possessions were the clothes on our backs.”
              “Huh.  Well, with Zuko, that’s actually pretty accurate.”
              “Exactly.”  Hakoda watched Zuko tease Ranalok for losing a sparring match.  “I don’t think Zuko qualifies as a refugee, but he’s pretty close to one.  His world’s been turned upside down multiple times.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of giving him a toy or blanket or-”
              “Hakoda, he’s been trying to act like a teenager for most of his time as a kid,” Bato pointed out.  “Don’t be too hard on yourself.  The good news is that the kid’s finally calming down again.”
              “We never did find out why he started acting up.”
              “Don’t look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth,” Bato said with a shrug. Hakoda didn’t respond.  Zuko yawned widely.  Hakoda walked over.
              “Zuko, would you come with me?” Hakoda asked softly.  Zuko nodded.  He followed Hakoda into his cabin.  Hakoda lifted the boy onto the chair opposite his desk, then sat down.  Zuko looked at him, his eyes getting slightly bleary from tiredness.
              “What is it, Chief?” Zuko asked.  Hakoda steepled his fingers.
              “I want to talk about your behavior.”  That shocked him out of any sleepiness he might have had.  Zuko straightened, eyes wide with fear.  “Before you say anything, I’m not punishing you.  You’ve been very well-behaved since we last docked.” Zuko relaxed slightly.  “But for a rather long time, you were not.”
              “I’m sorry,” Zuko mumbled.
              “I don’t want an apology.  I’m just wondering if you could share with me the reason,” Hakoda said.  Zuko squeezed his stuffed turtle duck.  “After we parted ways with the Northerners, you began acting in ways you hadn’t before.  Why?”
              “Why are you asking me now?” Zuko mumbled.  “You should have asked while I was misbehaving.”
              “Do you remember how you refused to cooperate with something as simple as taking a nap?” Hakoda asked.  Zuko reddened.  He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t ask then.  I’m not going to judge you.  But if you know why you were behaving so poorly-”
              “I was upset,” Zuko blurted out.  Hakoda waited.  The boy didn’t say anything else.
              “Why were you upset?” Hakoda prodded gently.
              “Uncle,” Zuko mumbled.  He squeezed his toy again.  “I…miss him.”
              “Do you want to see him?”
              “Yes.  No. I-”  Zuko looked away.  “The spirits cursed me, and I don’t know why, and Uncle cares too much, and he’d ask questions I don’t know how to answer, and-”  Hakoda held up a hand.  Zuko fell silent.
              “You were conflicted,” he said.  Zuko nodded.  “You want to see your uncle, but you’re worried how the reunion might go.”  Zuko nodded again.  “You could have told us.”
              “No.  I’m already four.  I don’t need any more indignities thrust upon me.”
              “Zuko, when something troubles you so much that it affects your behavior, it’s something you need to share,” Hakoda said patiently.  Zuko scowled.  Hakoda felt like he was back in time, trying to convince Sokka to talk things out before escalating to a fight.  “Are you better now?”  The young firebender blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the apparent change in topic.
              “Sort of.  I mean, I still miss Uncle and feel…conflicted,” Zuko confessed.  “But it’s not as bad now.”  He looked down at his stuffed animal.  “I had one like this before.  Lu Ten gave it to me.”
              “Lu Ten?”
              “My cousin.  He- he died during the Siege of Ba Sing Se.”
              “Ah,” Hakoda said softly.  Zuko looked at him expectantly.  Hakoda raised an eyebrow.  “Yes?”
              “Am I excused?” Zuko asked.  Hakoda nodded.  Zuko hopped off the chair and rushed out of the cabin.  Hakoda leaned back.
              Despite all his protests to the contrary, he’s just a boy.  A boy that feels a bit safer when he has something of his own to cuddle.  Hakoda grimaced.  I can’t tell Toklo and Panuk that toys are apparently the key to getting Zuko to open up. They’ll bury him in stuffed animals.
----- 
              “Zuko.”  Zuko sat bolt upright.  He looked over at Kustaa.  The healer was still fast asleep.  Wondering if he’d imagined it, Zuko laid back down.  “Zuko.”
              Who’s saying that?  Zuko fought free of his pile of furs.  He slipped on a coat to protect himself against the night wind and snuck onto the deck as quietly as possible.  The night shift did their chores, not paying any attention to the toddler padding past them. Something guided Zuko’s feet to the edge of the ship.  He clambered onto the railing, ignoring Hakoda’s voice in the back of his head telling him to stop climbing things.
              The full moon shone in the sky.  Its mirror image on the still ocean was just as bright.  Zuko cocked his head curiously at it.  Normally, he could feel the influence of the moon decreasing his bending capability.  But tonight, he didn’t feel stifled.
              It’s probably because my bending is even weaker than usual right now. Zuko tilted his head back to look up at the stars.  A memory flashed in his mind: the first time he’d seen the spirit lights in the South Pole.  Uncle had been thrilled and dragged Zuko out of bed to watch.  He blinked, and the memory faded.  No colorful ribbons split the sky in two.  Stars scattered across the heavens like they had been spilled from a jar. The moon hung heavy.  Zuko sighed.  I should go back to bed.
              “Not yet, Prince Zuko.”
              “Just Zuko,” Zuko said instinctively.  His eyes widened.  A figure began to form out of the moon.  A young woman, about the age he’d been before the spirits cursed him.  She smiled sweetly.
              “Not cursed, Prince Zuko.  Blessed,” she said.  Her voice echoed across the waves.  She floated closer.  “And why would I not call you Prince?  It is your title.”
              “Not- not anymore,” Zuko stammered.  He resisted the urge to fidget.  Clearly, he was in the presence of a spirit.  He had to be on his best behavior.  The spirit settled next to him on the railing.  Zuko winced slightly; her bright glow hurt his bad eye.  Her eyes widened.  The glow surrounding her dimmed from the force of the full moon to a soft foxfire.
              “I apologize,” she said.  “This is the first time I’m really acting as a spiritual intermediary.”
              “But…you’re the moon spirit,” Zuko said, having finally recognized her. She smiled sadly.
              “Not always.  You can call me Yue.”
              “Yue.”  Zuko looked down at his hands.  “Yue, I- I can’t be the prince anymore.”
              “Why not?”
              “I just- I can’t.”
              “Hmm.”  Yue looked out across the water.  “If you want to renounce your title, it might behoove you to wait until you have a firm reason for doing so.”
              “…Maybe,” Zuko mumbled.  He took a deep breath.  “Why- why are you here?” he asked.  To his displeasure, it came out as a weak squeak.  Yue smiled fondly at him.  Her white hair billowed behind her, despite the complete lack of breezes.
              “It’s time you were told why the spirits have intervened with you.” Zuko whipped his head up to stare at Yue in shock.
              “That doesn’t happen very often.”
              “The general consensus is that you might not pick up on it on your own,” Yue confessed.  Zuko flushed in embarrassment.  “Prince Zuko, your personal journey, one that the spirits have been invested in, is unlearning what you were taught by your father.”
              “Like what?” Zuko asked.  “Give me an example.”  Yue’s mouth twitched.
              “They’re all examples.”
              “What?”
              “Children your age wear their hearts on their sleeves and don’t hide their intentions,” Yue said, changing the topic.  “They have no difficulty accessing the emotions that you grew up learning to stifle.  If you wish to be a kind, just ruler someday, you must relearn how to be vulnerable and open. You must abandon the idea that rage and fear are all that will make you strong.”
              “But that’s where firebending comes from.  Anger.”
              “Is it?” Yue asked, cocking her head.  Zuko blinked.  “Do you understand what I am telling you?”
              “It sounds like you want me to stop being Fire Nation.”  Zuko rubbed the back of his neck.  “Which…I sort of already have.”
              “No.  The Fire Nation is no more inherently bad than any other creed.”  Yue put a hand on Zuko’s back.  “It has a rich culture whose good aspects have been masked by the bad ones for a hundred years.”  She began to fade.  “Our time is coming to an end.”
              “What?  But you didn’t- you didn’t tell me anything!” Zuko protested.  Yue began to float away.
              “I did.”
              “No, you-”  Zuko huffed. “What am I supposed to do?  Am I even going to return to my proper age?”
              “That’s something only you can control,” Yue said softly.
              “Wait!” Zuko shouted at the spirit.  She was growing smaller, moving away from him, back to the moon hanging in the sky. “Wait!”  He got to his feet clumsily.  “That’s not a real answer, it’s-”  His already precarious balance on the rail failed as the ship hit a rough wave. Zuko toppled forward, falling overboard.
              Again.
              At least he was rescued quicker this time.  Ranalok had seen him lose his balance and fished him out of the ocean immediately.  Tuluk stood ready nearby with a towel.
              “Kid, you have to think of some new ways to drive us up the wall,” Tuluk said as he removed Zuko’s dripping outerwear.  Thankfully, he didn’t take off all of Zuko’s clothes, even though every stitch was drenched.  The crewman allowed Zuko some of the piddling amount of dignity the former prince had left. He wrapped Zuko tightly in the towel and dragged him to the infirmary.
              When Kustaa awoke and saw the soaked boy, he merely raised a silent eyebrow.
              “The baby badger-viper fell overboard,” Tuluk explained.  Kustaa sighed.  “Hopefully he won’t get sick this time.”
              “Hopefully,” Kustaa repeated.  Tuluk left.  Kustaa turned so that Zuko could undress and dry off.  “You realize what this means, right?”
              “…No,” Zuko said warily, scrubbing his hair with the towel.
              “Your clothes need to dry again.”  Zuko froze.  “Including your favorite coat.  So…” Zuko scowled as the coat he did not like one bit was tossed at him.  “Time to dress up like a pygmy puma.”
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vigilantetendencies · 3 years
Text
Snippet/random writing
My best boy Uriah and his unfortunate partner Xander and a little summary/snippet thing I did for them.
Heavily based in the world of Danny Phantom.
Tumblr media
He shook with anger, eyes hard as his fists clenched at his sides. He had done nothing wrong! He never had. He had only ever existed and somehow that was enough for everyone around to pin him as the villain.
"You want a bad guy?" He asked, voice cracking as his eyes glowed. "I'll give you a bad guy!" He felt his body pulse with his emotions, years of beatings and descrimination against his genetic coding having built up into a horrifying display of power. He never wanted to be the monster- he had never asked for the honor of being feared and avoided. But if these spirits wanted a monster then they would have one; and he would do his damnedest not to disappoint.
He lunged forward, symbols glowing on his palms as he connected with one of the guards, throwing him away as his hands sucked the ectoplasm from his body. Uriah hardly paid attention, eyes hard as the ghosts that were moments ago cowering were now coming at him desperately.
It wasn’t long before there were bodies scattered across the room, Uriah panting in the middle of them while lowering the last attacker to the ground. He tried to wipe ectoplasm from his cheek and only succeeded in smearing it, standing tall and frowning down at the body at his feet.
“This didn’t have to happen,” He told it, knowing none of them could hear him.
He suddenly saw movement out of the corner of his eye, remembering where he was. He spun around, finding a man leaning up against the doorway to the room. He had an unreadable expression, and Uriah tensed in anticipation of another battle.
“My entire army,” the man rumbled, golden eyes roaming over Uriah’s body. “You took down my entire army in a matter of minutes.” There was no clear indication of what the man was feeling. It didn’t sound like anger or disappointment. Rather, it might have been intrigue. The man pushed away from the wall and started toward Uriah, the smaller male getting ready for anything. "I'm not looking for a fight, so you can relax. Or…” He grinned. “Did you want my help with that?” It came out as a purr and Uriah’s mind stalled for a moment, shoulders slumping as he heard the rumble of the man’s voice.
Was he- Was he hitting on Uriah after he’d just mopped the floor with his army?
The man walked around him, very obviously looking him over and sizing him up.
“And what important business brings a hunter into my castle? I doubt you came here to let me make you my play thing.”
“-Play thing-? What, no-” Uri felt his face warm up, trying to step away from the other man. He succeeded in putting distance between them, again tensing up. “I’m here to stop you from threatening the people of Aesop’s pyramids.” He puffed out his chest, eyes hard.
“Aesop couldn’t be bothered to come here himself? Shame.” He paused. “Even if you’re scrawny at least you’re easy on the eyes. More so than that winged brute.” The man suddenly looked disinterested, looking at the back of his hand before starting to walk away. “If that’s all then you can tell him his message was received but I still expect payment.”
“I’m not your messenger,” Uriah stated with finality. “I’m here for Aesop and Aesop alone. Unlike you, Aesop has better things to do than to send threats and hire prejudiced men to work for him.” He stuck his nose in the air, eyes glowing harshly.
“Is that it? You throw little tantrums when people don’t like you?” No, he wasn’t going to play into this man’s stupidity- “You think it’s fair because you were ridiculed and made to be the bad guy but what you’ve done here hardly looks like the work of an upstanding citizen.”
“Everyone is always going to condemn everything I do.” Uriah became less tense, looking away. “I won’t take judgement from any of you. Let alone a bully.” Uriah met his eyes once more before spinning to the door, beginning to walk out. He could feel Xander’s mood drop briefly before he called out to him.
“If you ever want a good time come back, little hunter.”
He frowned; what an appalling man.
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“I’m surprised,” Aesop told Uriah, looking at the man sitting on the column next to his throne. He looked miserable, wearing one of the loincloths that everyone in the pyramids wore. He wasn’t often found shirtless out of human pride of some sort, but the heat had gotten the best of him. He was a sweating, dull mess so Aesop tried to make him feel at least a bit better. “Xander hasn’t so much as sent a threatening letter. Whatever you did must have worked.”
Uriah looked over, blinking.
“I only talked to him.”
“And wiped out his entire army, I hear. You’re not one to attack unless provoked, I was surprised.” He could see Uriah slump.
“I really didn’t like it.” He could hear someone approaching the room from down the hall but paid no attention. “When I use my powers I think it takes away energy from people. I always feel so jacked up after and I never know what to do with all the energy.”
“I could think of a few things,” a voice called over the room. Both Aesop and Uriah looked at the doorway at the front of the room, none other than Xander standing there.
“It’s awfully bold of you to come right into my castle,” Aesop frowned, upset that he had spoken too soon.
“You say it like anything is going to happen to me.”
Uriah looked at Aesop.
“Can I hit him!? I want to hit him-”
“Uriah, stand down.”
“I’m not here to fight,” Xander stood a few feet in front of them, smirking. “I’ve actually come here to inform you that I won’t be making a nuisance of myself anymore.”
“Really.” Aesop smiled a bit. “Me and my people appreciate it.”
“What’s it going to cost?” Uriah stood, crossing his arms.
“Mm, the get up is enough.” It took him a second, but Uriah realized the statement was directed at him. He gave a small squeak as he tried to somehow hide his exposed skin, hearing Aesop try and hide a laugh. 
“Hey!”
“Apologies, little one. Why don’t you go and see how Anu is doing in the kitchen while we discuss these events?” Uriah happily took the escape, practically sprinting when he heard Xander whistle at his back side.
The brunette was not happy when it was later revealed that Xander was staying longer than just a conversation. He made a point to avoid him, trying to focus on helping out Aesop’s people.
It was like this for around a week, Uriah avoiding Xander and giving snarky retorts to his flirtatious remarks, but in the midst of the night Uriah came sprinting into the main hall, pulling his own clothes on again.
“Master Rakov-” Anu tried to stop him, setting down a pot on a table near the throne. "We talked about you dashing off like this!"
“No, Anu, I have to go-” He stumbled, buttoning his pants and pulling his shirt off of his shoulder to pull it on next, dropping his shoes and hoodie on accident. “Shit-”
“Uriah?” Aesop came into the hall, robe draped around his toned body. “Are you leaving us?”
“I-I had-” He groaned as he fell on his rear, pulling his shirt on as Xander entered the hall next. “I have to go- They need me-”
Aesop sighed, nodding.
“I understand.” That was it; Uriah pulled the rest of his clothes on and was suddenly gone.
Xander stared with confusion clear on his features, looking at Aesop for an answer. “Hunters are born with the ability to have foresight related to their abilities, like a premonition. Most hunters are moulded to become killers of all ghosts, but Uriah’s upbringing allows him to see when people need help rather than point him in the direction to kill.”
Xander nodded, watching the empty spot where Uriah had just been.
Peculiar.
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The next meeting was a rather odd one.
Aesop had let Uriah come back around a few times, and in those times he saw Uriah mature more and more into an adult.
Xander was around some of these visits, but often times Uriah was so busy with Aesop’s people and other tasks that he couldn’t hardly give Xander a sarcastic comment. And- damn, did he want to do that so bad.
As Uriah got older he got more muscular, but not terribly so. He became more bold and much more interesting to listen to.
Finally it seemed like Uriah was not so busy that he couldn’t talk; It had been...What, two years? He was settled outside Aesop’s castle, floating in the water of the pool. He only had on a pair of shorts, his scarred up body sprawled out for Xander to oggle at shamelessly.
Had he always been so pockmarked? Not that Xander minded, he was a firm believer in scars being beautiful and showing one’s bravery. But he just...hadn’t recalled anything adorning his tanned skin when they’d last really talked all that time ago.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Uriah called from the pool, not even opening his eyes. Xander came closer, sitting on an intricately carved bench and grinning.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you do something other than run around like a maniac,” he commented. “And it looks like you’ve been busy, did you get mauled?” He watched as Uriah opened his eyes, glancing over. Shit- Touchy subject. “It’s hot, so don’t look so offended. You were pretty to look at before, but now I might find myself thinking of you at night when I-”
He was suddenly hit with a wave of water and this brought him to laughter.
“You’re not even qualified to kiss my big toe let alone jack off to me.” Uriah was standing in the pool now, arms crossed. “Don’t you have something better to do than to irritate me? Oh, there are some new guys in Aesop’s harem, maybe you should go fuck with them.”
Ooh, spicy- How exciting this man always was!
“Mm, I prefer my merchandise new, not secondhand.” Uriah made a face at the implication, cheeks reddening in confirmation. “Wait- I was right?” Truth be told, that was a little surprising. Humans and ghosts weren’t so different in that they enjoyed pleasure and affection, but he guessed Uriah’s life didn’t allow much freedom to explore and indulge.
Xander laughed, holding his stomach in glee.
“Sorry not all of us are sexual deviants who rely on one night stands to make us feel better about ourselves.”
“Oh, I can promise you, I’d like for you to be so much more than a one night stand.” That snapped Uriah back into embarrassment, though he didn’t leave.  “You’re not running off, that’s a surprise. Have you decided that I might be worth a chance?”
Uriah’s demeanor changed, eyes lowered and shoulders slumped.
“I’ve spent two years fighting in the slums.” That explained the innuendos and language as of late. “After what I’ve seen I realized that there were plenty of worse things out there than you.” There was silence, Uriah’s gaze on the bottom of the pool. He hadn’t even heard Xander climb into the pool before he was splashed.
“Lighten up kid,” Uriah choked on water, blinking at Xander. “You wanna get your mind off of it? I know a good way to-”
Uriah splashed the water back at Xander, the older ghost laughing and diving at him.
“Why don’t you get lost-” Uriah hissed, just before he was tackled into the water.
He couldn’t help but smile a little.
Xander had to leave the pyramids shortly after their conversation.
Of course, they were both mildly a nuisance to one another, but it made Xander a happy man to talk to Uriah.
He prayed they’d see each other soon enough.
And, lo and behold, they did.
Suddenly Uriah was in his kingdom- His very own kingdom once more- and it didn’t look like he was on any sort of killing spree.
But Xander had also made a point to educate his men and women on Uriah’s endeavors as a hunter. So, no one was attacking him.
Uriah was in the center of town, poking his nose into the market and seeming to be on the lookout for something specific.
“If you’re looking for my bedroom it’s in the castle,” He commented, leaning over Uriah’s shoulder as he looked at journals on a stand. The smaller man jumped, spinning around and jamming a hand to Xander’s chest before seeing it was him.
“Ooh, save that for later, that might be kind of kinky-”
“I could have killed you!” Uriah shoved him away.
“I doubt it,” Xander shrugged. “What brings you to my corner of the ghost zone? Had enough of Aesop’s harems and sun?”
Uriah rubbed his sunburnt arm absently.
Right. Xander always forgot that Uriah was still among the living.
“Maybe a little,” He confessed. “But I really need a new journal. I heard the best book makers reside here, so.” He smiled a little.
“What do you need a journal for? Don’t your hands just…” Xander made a gesture with his hands as if to ask if the books wound up flames.
“I can control the fire, Xander, Uriah deadpanned. “And I write in them. That’s what they’re for.” He picked one up, running his hand over the cover with adoration.
“Will you be here a while? There are plenty of other places in the kingdom that don’t get enough attention, I can show you around.” Pause. “As long as you don’t light them on fire or try and kill everyone there--” Uriah spun to Xander and the two began to bicker again, smacking him with the journal before looking at the vendor.
“I’m buying this,” He clarified before hitting Xander again.
Uriah was surprised when Xander actually stayed by his side and showed him around the kingdom of Erimell. They bickered quite a bit, but eventually they fell into a less back and forth rhetoric and into a more calm and even friendly atmosphere, much like how they had left things at the Pyramids.
Xander couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to the boy; Though, that isn’t what he was anymore. Uriah certainly had his boyish charm but he was growing into less of an amusing nuisance. Now Uriah looked like an adult; A little hardened to the world’s evils yet still maintaining his typical excitement and...purity. Something about Uriah was just different than most people and ghosts Xander dealt with. He wasn’t here for political gain or power in any sense, he was just...a guy, buying a journal, spending the day looking around a dead kingdom because he found it fascinating.
“What is it?” Uriah snapped him out of his thoughts, looking at him as he leaned over an intricately carved wooden railing that surrounded the gothic castle they were looking at. “Pretty sure I told you last time I saw you that pictures last way longer than staring like a creep.”
Xander smirked.
“I don’t think you’d supply me with the kind of pictures I’d like.” He watched Uriah’s face contort in embarrassment, red spreading across his cheeks.
“If you’re trying to flirt you’re doing a really bad job at it,” The brunette informed him.
“I’m doing just fine,” Xander retorted. “You’re just not into it. Now, what could a runt like you be into…” Xander licked his lips, catching Uriah’s gaze flicking to his tongue briefly.
“I have things to do,” Uriah huffed, pushing off of the railing. “If you’re that thirsty then I suggest you get a drink- And no, not from me.” Uriah glared at Xander, pulling his bag in front of himself to dig through it in search of his map of the ghost zone.
“Aw, cold.” Xander remained unaffected, looking at Uriah’s map. “You could just ask for directions, what are you looking for?”
“A place to stay.” Uriah looked a little...darker as he said that. “Some..stuff...happened back home and…” He was quiet and Xander almost didn’t catch it when he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “Anyways, there aren’t exactly a lot of hotels in the ghost zone.”
“It’s almost like there’s an entire castle at my disposal,” Xander sarcastically commented, watching Uriah give him a look.
“Oh, and I’m sure your men are going to welcome me in with open arms after last time.”
“No one remembers. You killed them all. Now come on.” Xander began walking, glancing back at a hesitant Uriah and sighing. “You have to make everything difficult.” He came back over and snatched up Uriah’s things, the brunette giving a surprised “Hey!” as he picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.
“Look, kid, the ghost zone is a huge place full of bad people. Bad people who seek power and have nothing better to do than to pick fights. The rumor that there’s a hunter running around freely is spreading like wildfire and while I know you can handle yourself I’d hate to see you get upset if something happened. So shut up and take the free room.” Uriah did just that, hanging limply on Xander’s shoulder- Until one of Xander’s hands grabbed his ass.
“Put me down!”
“Definitely not happening.”
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crystalgirl259 · 3 years
Text
The Flame and the Dragon Ch11
Chapter 11: The Cerise Room
Kai's defiant gaze and wails of despair echoed in Cole's mind even as he followed Skylor and Chamille out towards the courtyard, to make sure the two guards returned both of Kai's siblings home safely. Both of them begged and pleaded for their brother's return, even offering the same deal, but Cole refused them. The smaller one could barely speak as his coughing fit returned with force.
"Get going both of you!" Cole ordered, as Skylor and Chamille secured Nya and Lloyd and took off to the forest. Knowing his servant's speeds, Cole assumed the two humans would be home in a manner of minutes, and plenty of time to make sure the smallest boy got his medication. Sighing, Cole turned on his heels and returned to the manor. He couldn't help but feel the pain of guilt wash over him as he heard his prisoner's wails, but he brushed it off.
The brunette will just have to get used to it. He concluded that as he stormed back up the spiraling staircase to the tower.
"Um... Master?" A timid voice said, causing him to pause.
"What, Jay?" He snarled, turning to the blue fox.
"Well, uh, we were just wondering which one of the guest rooms we should be preparing for Kai, you know?" He gulped as he tried to steady his voice. Cole had never harmed or hurt any of his servants and didn't ever plan to, but the lord's presence and commanding authority made it difficult to not feel nervous in his presence.
"And why would you all be wondering that?"
"Well, we just figured since Kai is going to be staying with us for some time, that maybe he would be more comfortable staying in a proper room." Nelson timidly explained. Cole snarled, causing Jay to squeak and took a step back.
"Or not."
"Cole!" Someone snapped and Cole turned to meet a scowling young yeti. Even though he was slightly shorter than Cole, Zane still stood tall, but it was the way Zane said Cole's true name, that even he sometimes forgot in the depths of his mind, that herald his attention.
"Zane!" Nelson cried and abandoned his creature form for his human one and hugged the yeti. Zane gave him a small smile before his neutral mask returned when his eyes met his Master's.
"Nelson, I believe me and the master have other matters to discuss at the moment." He said. Unlike the younger servants, Zane was one of the few who had no fear of Cole.
"Really, and what matters?" Cole joked arrogantly despite Zane's scowl deepening.
"I certainly hope you don't plan on leaving that poor boy locked up and freezing to death in that tower all night?" Zane scolded, making no effort to hide the disdain in his voice.
"And why not?" Cole challenged, with a sarcastic tone. "He is certainly strong enough to handle it, and besides, he had no trouble screeching at me when he made the deal." He snarled.
"Master please," Neuro pleaded as he flew in, hoping to calm his Master's temper. "The boy lost his family and his freedom in less than an hour; anyone would be upset in his position."
"Besides, your curse's deadline is in less than five months, Master," Nelson said as he kept his face towards Zane, so Cole couldn't read his emotions. "It would be a waste to have your last hope of breaking the spell freezing in a tower, who knows some, curtsey may inspire him to follow suit; he most certainly wasn't this feisty when I first saw him." He explained and Zane resisted the urge to smirk, knowing exactly what the werebear was trying to do.
"Anyone would be feisty if they found their family locked up, and he is a bit of a mess, a good night's sleep and a hot meal might help him relax," Jay added.
"Hmm, you all seem to have put too much faith in a child who claims to hate me." Cole chuckled, bitterly.
"Cole, are you saying you don't care if the curse is broken or not! You know what happened to you if it isn't!" Zane hissed, growling at his stubborn master, more out of concern than anything else.
"I'm well aware of that, Zane, I simply don't see the point in raising everyone's hopes when they'll only be shot down in the end," Cole replied in a very detached manner. "But if it will put you all at ease; no, I don't plan on keeping him in the tower." He snapped and stormed towards the tower staircase. "Go prepare the Cerise room."
"The Cerise room?" Jay gasped as everyone, even Zane's, eyes widened with surprise.
"It suits him, go get the others and set it up, now." He ordered and watched the servents move. "Nothing too over the top, he won't like that," Cole ordered, turning back towards the tower and ignoring all the baffled glances his servants were sending him. "He's not some helpless docile kid who'll just accept his fate and be happy with a pretty room." He explained without stopping or looking behind him before he vanished up the tower steps.
"That was a very clever but a very risky move, Nelson." Zane half scolded when the Master was out of hearing range.
"I know, but the Master is always so stubborn because he's lonely, who knows, maybe spending time with Kai will be good for him?" The werebear boy smiled, optimistically...
****************
The iron door slammed open with a loud clang when Cole shoved it. His dragon eyes scanned the tower dungeon for his captive. He found him right where he left him, collapsed in front of the windowsill, still crying. Cole felt his heartstrings wrench at the sight of the strong-willed youth looking so broken, but shook it away.
"Kai?" He called. No sooner has the teen heard his name did he lookup. Wild amber eyes blazed with anger and sorrow; visible tears marks on his cheeks. Kai wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and gripped the windowsill before pulling himself into a standing position. Then, without warning, he dashed forward and with one swift motion punched Cole in the face.
The dragon hybrid's head snapped to one side with a force that almost knocked him over.
"YOU BASTARD!" Kai exploded, shaking in anger, but refused to let any more tears fall. "You couldn't give five measly seconds to say goodbye!? I had just signed my life away to you! I gave up everything for my family and I'll never see them again or say that I loved them! Did you not see my little brother's face? I couldn't even have a minute to calm him and down and tell him I'd be alright!" He roared. All he wanted was to tear Cole's tail off and shove it down the lord's throat.
Cole moved his head back and moved one of his clawed hands to rub the abused cheek, eyes glowing dangerously at the teenager as he continued his rant.
Cole remained silent, purely from shock. No one ever spoke to him like that or stuck him, even after he'd been cursed. Anger soon replaced astonishment. Cole's pride kicked in and he snatched his captive's wrist before he could move away. Kai opened his mouth to protest but was silenced when Cole slammed him back against the stone wall, pinning both his wrists above his head. The dragon hybrid's tail around Kai's thigh, holding him in place.
Fearing the worst, Kai began to struggle, but Cole pinned him with his free hand and forced the teen to look at him.
"Strike me again, and there will be dire consequences." Cole hissed in a dangerously low voice. A slight satisfaction filled him when Kai shivered, though the brunette's glare refused to falter.
"Let go of me!" Kai growled and bit his lip until he tasted blood when Cole used one of his legs to pin him against the wall. He refused to cry out. He wouldn't give the Dragon Lord the satisfaction.
"Let's get something straight here, candle; you don't make the rules, I do, you agreed to be here and follow them, so I suggest remember that or your time here will not be pleasant and I won't hesitate to punish you if you disobey me, again." He growled before he released Kai and he dropped to the floor. "Mark my words; I will douse that defiant flame of yours." He smirked and turned and headed back towards the door. "Now, if you're done throwing a tantrum, I'll show you to your room."
"My room?" Kai asked his head shot up, and he got to his feet.
"Of course, you didn't think I was heartless enough to leave you here in the tower all night, did you? Surely even you must have a higher opinion of people, unless, of course, you would rather stay." He mocked. Kai growled at the mocking tone and felt his ego bruise a bit, showing Cole that was what he thought. Swallowing his pride, Kai followed the lord out of the tower. Cole grabbed a nearby lantern and ordered Kai to follow him. As they walked, Kai's amber eyes wandered around the corridor in amazement.
The castle's inside was just as magnificent as the outside.
Once Cole escorted him up the staircase to the second floor, he followed down a hallway, done like an open balcony with marble railings. Kai peeked over the side and found a fantastic view of the main corridor and several other rooms. Chandeliers made of glass and crystal and candles hung from the ceilings on thick chains, and statues of gargoyles and mythical creatures embedded the walls. His gaze fell on the marble floors beneath him to the shadowed ceiling.
The points and curves of the roof were done elaborately,
Windows of stained glass were speckled everywhere, while the pillars seemed to continue forever into the infinite darkness. Unlike the castle of his dreams, everything in this place was a darker color or seemed veiled in shadows. No dust or cobwebs littered the castle walls or floor. Not even the polished stone of the statues, floor, and balconies were all aged by time. Cole's eyes trailed behind him, mentally telling himself he only wanted to make sure the boy was following him, but another part of him couldn't resist the look on his captive's face as he scanned his new home.
The silence between them suddenly became tense and suffocating.
Cole had always welcomed silence, the absence of noise had always offered him a sense of peace, but suddenly, he'd give anything to break the silence. Knowing Kai wouldn't make the first move, he cleared his throat.
"Since the castle is your home, you're free to move about it as you like; if you get lost or wish to find a specific location, ask the servants." The Master explained. A snort was his only answer. It was a miracle Cole didn't scowl. "The only restrictions are that you are not to leave the palace grounds or go anywhere near the woods, but that is for your own safety; the second is you are not allowed near the west wing under any circumstances."
"What's in the west wing?"
"That is not your business!" Cole snapped before they started walking again. "Other than that, you are free to go about as you wish." He added, but this time his answer was full-blown laughter. Cole stopped in his tracks and whirled around. Kai didn't even flinch at his feral gaze.
"If you think giving me a room and suddenly being polite will convince me to forgive and forget, and make nice, you are sorely mistaken!" He spat with heavy sarcasm in his's voice. "I have no intention of becoming another one of your servants, so do us both a favor and don't pretend to be nice to me." He snapped. Cole's first response was anger. The fury rose inside him like a caged beast, then it turned to anguish. This person knew his story, and yet he criticized him?
His expression suddenly changed and he started laughing, but it wasn't a normal laugh.
His laughter wasn't what Kai usually heard when people showed their happiness. This was darker, more amused, and curled with a type of humor that chilled Kai to the bone. Once the king's gaze returned to him, he smirked at Kai's state, a smile that curled at the corners.
"You have quite a defiant spirit and a sharp tongue." He said as he took a step towards the human, who took a step back, but Cole continued forward not letting the short distance between them grow. Kai cursed when his back hit the wall of the balcony and his hands grabbed air. Cole leaned over his captive, meeting the boy's amber eyes, their faces now even closer. "It'd be wise of you to keep that tongue of yours in check, otherwise, it just might get you killed." He warned.
Kai flinched when one of Cole's claws traced his cheek.
He breathed in Kai's ear before pulling back, leaving Kai still shaking against the banister. The teen cursed himself for showing weakness in front of his capture, but his glare returned with full force. His defiance only seemed to amuse Cole even more. He then turned to the room that would now be Kai's new home. The click of keys unlocking the large gold door was the only warning Kai got before he suddenly found himself whisked inside his new room.
Not even bothering to check around, he turned his attention to his capture and glared.
"I can walk just fine on my own." He scowled but Cole snorted as he shook his head, and turned around as if leaving.
"Despite the circumstances, and as difficult as this is for you to accept, I do hope you enjoy your stay here." He said and Kai resisted the urge to blink at the sympathy in the Dragon Lord's voice.
"Now, get dressed and have the servants bring you down for dinner." He commanded.
"No," Kai said, hands balled into fists at his sides. Cole froze in his tracks.
"I beg your pardon?" He growled, his voice was lower and more dangerous than it had been all night.
"I'm not hungry." He said flatly, grateful his empty stomach didn't voice its protests.
"I wasn't asking if you were hungry or not, I'm telling you that you're going to dinner." He ordered as his glare met Kai's, the intensity of his own green depths rivaled by the untamable fire in Kai's amber orbs.
"No, I'm not." He said simply; his tone undaunted. His eyes bore into the Dragon Lord's. They remained transfixed, neither willing to break their control or give the other the satisfaction of knowing he'd won. Finally, the dragon hybrid smiled, a small smirk that made Kai blink, before a boom of laughter erupted from Cole. Blood boiled in Kai's veins. Did Cole really find him so amusing? The thought made his teeth clench in rage.
"Very well, be stubborn; I will not argue." He half-mocked. "If you insist on acting this way then starve for the night! Perhaps going without food for a while will do your attitude some good." He laughed, but just as quickly his glare turned hard and he leaned over to meet Kai's eyes. The boy too stunned to do anything but a standstill. "But I mean what I say when you won't get anything tonight! The servants obey only me and if I order them not to, they'll obey so you won't be able to have them bring you something because you skipped a meal because of your stubbornness, so you either come now or go without, the choice is yours." He snarled.
Despite the flinch in his step and his churning stomach, Kai's glare refused to falter.
"I'll take my chances."
"Fine." Cole huffed before he turned on his heels and stormed out the door. He said nothing else as the door slammed shut, leaving Kai alone in the gilded cage. Kai growled and kick the door in frustration, before grabbing the nearest pillow and released a violent scream he'd been holding back into it. After he was finished he let it drop into his lap and panted in frustration. It didn't make him feel better, but it felt nice to release some of his pent-up stress.
When he opened his eyes, he finally took in the surroundings of his new room.
He wasn't sure what to expect when Cole said he was having a room in the palace. He expected something straight out of a fairytale when the princess got her prince. The exact opposite of what he got. The room was beautiful in a gothic way. Instead of a wooden bed, he got an iron frame bed. A grotesque pattern formed the headboard and end of the bed like a spider web. The iron frame contorted upward like twisted vines in a type of canopy.
Red and gold veiled the roof and draped down, pooling once it hit the carpet like waterfalls of gold and blood.
Bright red blankets of satin draped the full-sized mattress. Pillows that were woven from gold, red, and black satin and Egyptian cotton aligned the headboard in various sizes, forming patterns that served both comfort and decorative. Next to the bed was a black iron table in the same molding as the bed. A lit candle rested peacefully next to a book bound in brown leather and a black pen. Above the table, a large branched candlestick rested against the wall.
Each of its multiple branches held a lit, vanilla-scented candle.
Opposite the bed, a fire roared to life contained by about three feet of obsidian stone and mantle. Iron and glass served to keep the embers safely contained while heat flooded into the room. Candles lined the mantelpiece, all in iron candle holders. A black vase filled with white and yellow roses in the center contrasted with the black stone of the mantle. Two large candles blazed to life in black, iron lanterns on either side of the fireplace. Kai's eyes wandered further around the room.
All the furniture was simple yet elegantly carved from rich wood with gold handles.
The pieces lined against the walls opposite the bed. In the far corner, against the same wall as the fireplace, an enormous wardrobe towered over him, almost touching the ceiling. The carvings resembled the vines of a forest, moving up the wood, while the images of deer decorated the doors. Next to it was a door that Kai could see led to a bathroom. The polished obsidian floor contrasted nicely with the ivory tub and the pale cream marble counters.
In the corner next to the entrance door sat a carved wooden desk and a large bookshelf, stacked with books with brass or silver bindings.
Brass knobs and bindings decorated the desk where stacks of paper, books, and pens had already been organized. The darkness of the furniture and bed contrasted nicely with the gold carpets covering the floors. Despite his desire to hate the room, Kai loved it, but at the same time, it was a gift from his captor. What drew Kai's attention was the wall on the left side of the bed. A strip made almost entirely out of glass, save for the aged, gold bindings of a doorway and the mesh curtains.
If not for the balcony appearing through the invisible wall, Kai could've been convinced nothing was there.
He got up and walked to the glass. A transparent reflection met him as he approached. His hand moved automatically to meet that of his reflection, only to feel the cold glass of the invisible barrier beneath it. He saw the dark forest, covered with snow and ice, beneath a towering mountain. The full moon, shimmering in the black sky, perfected the image. It became too difficult to look beyond his reflection and at the portrait behind it before he found himself meeting his eyes in the clear mirror.
His hand gently retracted from the glass, pulling back as far as it could before tightening into a fist.
Kai growled and punched the glass window, hard. Not even a crack or dent marred the surface. His bangs shadowed his eyes as he lowered his face and pressed his forehead against the glass, shaking in anger, anguish, and fear. All his emotions pooled together at once making it impossible to calm himself down. His nails scraped against the living symbol of the bitterness of his sacrifice. Overcome by his raging emotions, he struggled backward from the window until the back of his hand touched the iron sides of the bed.
He collapsed to the floor, no longer caring about the tears on his cheeks...
****************
After a few hours of leaving Kai to stew, Cole decided he had had enough waiting and he walked back to the Cerise Room to check if Kai had finally cracked and wanted to get some dinner. When he arrived, however, he was a little surprised to see Jay, Tox, Ronin, and Nelson crouched by Kai's bedroom door with their ears pressed up against it. Cole struggled to suppress a laugh at the sight. It was clear they hadn't noticed him as he walked closer.
"Shouldn't you three be in bed by now?" He said and the servants jumped and whirled around to see Cole standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
"Witt all due respect, Master, we're over 100 years old, and it's only 1 am." Ronin replied.
"Rules are rules; now get to bed before I call Zane." He playfully warned, watching them scurry away. A small chuckled escaped his mouth before his attention turned to the real reason he'd returned to the east wing. The lock of the door opened with a shallow click and a low creek. Though darkness shrouded the room in shadow, the multiple candle-lit candle holders and the roaring fire lit the room in a bright glow. He saw that his captive was not on the bed where he'd left him, or at the desk, or in the bathroom.
His dragon eyes scanned the corners of the large room until they caught a flash of red on the other side of the iron bed frame.
With an elegant swoop, the Dragon King found himself on the other side of the room, staring down at his shivering captive on the floor. Cole sighed and knelt down, a clawed hand removed the stray strand of hair from the boy's sleeping face. This revealed the tear-streaks on his cheeks. Carefully, Cole whipped the tears away with the back of his hand. A silent shiver ran through his hand when the warm skin touched his cool scales. The boy truly was beautiful.
He didn't know what Kai had to be so stubborn.
He sighed before hooking his arms under Kai's legs and back and gently lifting him into his arms. Kai's coat slid to the floor with the action, but Cole's tail was quick to catch it. Relieving his captive of the uncomfortable position, the dragon lord placed him on the bed, him resting against pillows. His eyes scanned the boy over, taking in his dirty shirt and pants. They had been soiled from the day's events. Cole closed his eyes and with a snap of his fingers, the clothes joined Kai's coat on the floor.
The Master turned to the wardrobe and pulled out something for the brunette to wear tomorrow.
His eyes caught something shinning against the candlelight.
"I thought I'd lost this." He muttered as his clawed hands lingered over one of his old dark red sweaters. He pulled it from its place on the chair and held it open. It looked as lovely as it did when he'd lost it. The fabric as crimson as freshly spilled blood and the stitching of a gold dragon decorated along the arms. His eyes darted from the sweater to his shivering captive, then back to the sweater. He deposited the fresh clothes on the rim of the bed and gently covered his captive's shivering body.
He made a note to have Harumi have it fitted for him once he was settled.
That sweater looked better on Kai than it did on him...
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quicksilversquared · 6 years
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HTFAM Outtakes: Chloe and the Awful, Horrible, Very Terrible Prank
(AO3) (FF.net)
Chloe Bourgeois was planning on having a perfectly lovely day. Her father had bought her a pass to a few hours in the spa in the morning, and then she had been given permission to go shopping afterwards, since her wardrobe was dreadfully out of style and needed replacing (she couldn't be seen wearing last year's styles, obviously, and there were some lovely new things out from some of her favorite designers). She had the whole rest of the day free to do whatever she wanted after that.
But she wasn't going to worry about that now, Chloe decided as she relaxed into the massage table. She could wait until later to decide what she was going to do with the rest of her day. Maybe there would be some famous people staying at the Grand Paris and she could hang out with them, or maybe she would simply have a day all for herself and watch her favorite movies all afternoon while snacking on gourmet chocolates. Either would be quite fun.
Once her massage was over, Chloe headed straight for her favorite boutiques for a bit of shopping . She had to endure a few minutes of dealing with rude shopkeeper's assistants before the designers themselves came running out to wait on her personally. It didn't take long for her to pick out a few things and commission a few more, and then Chloe was headed on her way. It was the perfect day.
Granted, there was one tiny problem. Her phone screen had gotten broken to bits the day before during a small tantrum about not getting the newest model of her phone as soon as it came out, so she had to spend the day without it while her dad ordered the phone she wanted and got it delivered right away. That meant that she couldn't text Sabrina or post pictures of herself at the spa or shopping at the mall so all of her followers could see what she was up to, but she had found that she really wasn't that bothered by it. It was nice to not be constantly interrupted with texts from Sabrina all day long, and she found that she could enjoy her massage much better when she wasn't checking her phone or trying to twist herself into getting a good angle for a selfie.
After popping into a jewelry story for a quick look-around (even if her father had forbidden jewelry shopping for the next few months after she ran up a bill that was a little too high his tastes, that didn't mean that Chloe couldn't look for pieces that other people could give to her as presents!), Chloe went out for lunch at a high-end new restaurant that had been getting absolutely amazing reviews online, and then spent the afternoon lounging in her room, giggling with some actresses that were staying at the Grand Paris. She borrowed her butler Jean-Pierre's phone to take some selfies with them so she could show the photos off online later, and then only once they had left did she flounce over to her father's office.
"Darling, your new phone came in!" her father said cheerfully, waving at where his secretary was hunched over a phone. "Britta is just getting it all set up for you now and getting your information from your old phone put into the new one. And did you know that there's all sorts of phone covers you can choose from that would help protect your new phone? I ordered several, and you can pick which one you like best."
"Thank you, daddykins!" Chloe squealed happily. She dug through the covers- clearly the secretary had helped pick the covers out, because her father's taste was not this good- and picked out the best one. Britta slid it on the new phone, and then handed the device over to Chloe.
Armed with her new phone, Chloe trotted happily back off to the Grand Paris for dinner. She had about a million messages from Sabrina, for some reason, but those could wait. After all, Chloe needed to text her Adrikins first. She had remembered on the way over to her father's office that she needed to email him, since he was now all alone in London without her to talk to all the time and he was doubtless miserable without it. She knew that he would want to tell her all about the move, and maybe he would even invite her over to visit.
(Why he had decided to go to London, she didn't know. He hadn't even asked her what she thought about it! It was really rather rude of him not to ask his best friend (and future wife) what she thought about him going over there for school, even though he already had a perfectly good degree and could be putting it to use earning money for their wedding.)
Chloe spent all of dinner putting together a lovely email on her computer, even attaching a whole bunch of photos of herself that she had taken with her new phone, because obviously Adrien would need pictures to decorate his new apartment and what better photos to use than ones of her? She had everything saved and ready to send (and a couple extra photos of herself attached, just for good measure) when Jean-Marc stuck his head in her door.
"Miss? Your friend Sabrina called the hotel in quite a state. She said that you haven't responded to any of her texts. I reminded her that your phone had been broken last night and you only just got a replacement, but she still seemed rather agitated."
"I'll take care of it, Jean-Paul," Chloe said loftily, waving a hand in his direction. Whatever Sabrina was upset about could no doubt wait until after she emailed Adrien. "Did she say anything else?"
Her butler only shrugged. "She said something about Facebook, but I couldn't quite make out what it was that she was saying."
Something about Facebook? Perhaps Adrien had posted a particularly handsome photo of himself and Sabrina, being the caring friend she was, had wanted to make sure that Chloe saw it. Chloe would have to check it out. "Okay. That's all?"
"That is all, madam." Jean-Luc made a short little bow and then backed out of the room, closing the door behind himself. Chloe turned back to her computer and opened a new tab so she could check her Facebook. She hummed happily to herself as the page loaded, imagining what unintentionally handsome pose Adrien would be in in his newest photo. Maybe he would even be wearing yellow! He was always so handsome in yellow, especially because then they matched.
And then the pictures loaded on her screen, and Chloe screamed. Because while yes, Adrien had posted new photos online, and yes he looked very handsome in them, the photos were of him at his wedding.
Adrien. At. His. Wedding. And he wasn't marrying her, like he was supposed to, but Marinette Dupain-Cheng!
Was he insane? Was he being blackmailed or something into getting married to that girl? Was she promising him free pastries or something? It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.
Chloe was practically hyperventilating as she scrolled through all of the photos. She was living a nightmare now, she really was. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to throw a tantrum.
It just. wasn't. fair.
Chloe sniffled rather pathetically as she munched on another chocolate in her room. Adrien had posted a video of his wedding online earlier, and it had taken everything she had to not throw her phone through her window and scream in denial.
(Her father had taken the computer away the previous night so that she wouldn't post any nasty comments on Adrien or Marinette's photos. It was a rather useless move; she would rather text Adrien directly to figure out what was going on but he wasn't responding, and Marinette had long since blocked Chloe on Facebook. She would have texted Marinette some rather nasty things, but she had lost her former classmate's number long ago.)
So now she was drowning her sorrows in chocolate, her favorite movies, and the occasional glass of wine. Jean-Michel refused to give her the whole bottle at once. Apparently it wouldn't be ladylike or seemly for her to drink that much at once.
Apparently no one told Adrien that it was unseemly to elope with Marinette Dupain-Cheng the second he got to London.
A knock on the door stopped Chloe from downing another chocolate (she was going to have to go to the gym now! That was just one more thing Adrien was going to have to answer for). She put the chocolate down and sat up. Perhaps it was Jean-Pascal coming with another small glass of wine. "Yes?"
Jean-Henri stuck his head in. "Mademoiselle, your friend Sabrina is here to see you. She says she has news-"
"I don't care! My Adrikins is married and nothing will ever be okay again!"
"But he's not, Chloe!" Sabrina burst out, pushing past Jean-Claude and dashing into the room. "Have you checked Facebook recently, Chloe?"
"Yes, and there was a video! That Marinette Dupain-Cheng must have gotten them to take it to rub it in my face-"
"It's fake! It was a prank!" Sabrina waved her phone in front of Chloe's face. "He didn't get married for real!"
Chloe gaped at her for a second, then reached out and grabbed Sabrina's phone, staring at the screen. Adrien's Facebook was pulled up and Sabrina had zoomed in on the newest post. It was a picture of a bunch of random people plus the wedding party and Adrien and Marinette. Under it was a caption.
'Thanks to everyone who helped us pull off the impromptu wedding! In case you haven't already guessed, it was completely fake. I'm slightly concerned by how many people thought we weren't kidding though! :D'.
Chloe gaped, then smiled, then scowled.
Oooh, Adrien was in for the scolding of a lifetime next time she saw him. She was going to have to go to the gym now to work off all of the chocolates and wine she had eaten because she was distressed by his stupid prank, and Chloe hated the gym. He would have to really grovel if he wanted to get back into her good graces, or maybe buy her one of the necklaces that she had been eying the previous day. Either that, or he would have to take her on a date.
Yes, that would be best, Chloe decided after a moment of thought. A date with Adrien where she could remind him who he was supposed to be with. She could drop hints about getting a necklace as a Christmas present while they were out together so he would know what to buy for her, since his father hadn't put any stupid limits on his spending. She would make him promise not to pull any stupid stunts like that in the future, too.
After all, her figure simply wouldn't be able to handle the stress again.
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watcr · 4 years
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Rules 🟡 About 🟡 Bio & Misc
DISCLAIMER: This is not intended by any means to be an entirely serious rp blog. This is originally based based in Grand Theft Auto 5. And was created in a custom Grand Theft Auto Online server by Markiplier and thusly portrayed by him whilst he played. If anything this is a Crack!Role Play blog that looks well put together Face claim and all but I'm really just here for rediculous interactions and wild hijinks with a clueless dad delivery man. That being said: any backstory and the creation/ videos/ acting itself belongs to Markiplier. I'm simply just writing a character that I enjoy and makes me laugh.
Please Note: This blog will still contain highly suggestive content and situations with a comedic take on them. This includes being robbed, murder, drug use, hostage situations and then some. I mean-- Stan was made in Grand Theft Auto.
RULES/ General Info:
This is a side blog to my main: mxrkedfordeath
Para/ Novella writing length
Primarily dash/mobile profile
18+ no ifs ands or special cases
Again: this is a Satirical/Crack/Meme role play blog. Expect rediculous things to be said and done
NSFW present/ Friendly
Non-Selective; as mentioned above I created this blog for fun. If any of this meme I have created interests you please feel free to send me a DM or ask and let's see what wild hijinks we can get Stan into huh?
Although the voice is provided by an internet personality that is where this ends. I am still uncomfortable with interacting with blogs that portray real life people or influencers/ internet celebrities. I'm not going to have Stan rob someone with a celebrity that is real. It's...its uncomfortable.
Considering my reason I made this blog and the nature of it, random starters or asks are welcome! If it's a weird situation, place or even different universe I will make That Water Boi lore friendly.
That being said however: please do not include oneself in a thread that you are not involved in.
Absolutely no personal blogs
OC friendly
Crossover/AU friendly
No Godmodding
No hate/ harrassment
Multimuse and Sideblog friendly
Unless featured or seen in the Stan The Water Man videos by Markiplier there will be no preestablished anything. Unless it is Kiki, or Jimmy Stan does not know you and this naive man child will greet you very horribly as he always does.
Shipping: I do allow it but dont think its going to be very serious either. When he sees you ladies? Its literally hitting the jackpot if you get more than a few words that are even close to coherent. So yes. If you wanna simp or thirst over stan that's cool just know that his skull is thicker than a military bunker wall.
•Memes, asks, and shitposting alike is pretty much this whole blog. Stan is a sweetie but hes not close to being the uh... brightest bulb in the box.
About:
Stan or Stanley Wheeler is a 39 year old delivery man and a family man. He strives to please those around him with wonderful water and his company.
Still a delivery man with his new life after a difficult divorce and loss of custody of his "Sweet baby boy Roy" he focuses on bettering his life as a means to be reunited with his son.
He is always well hydrated and firmly believes in comfort and efficiency instead of style.
(About if you stumbled into this shit show):
This is a role play blog for an original character created by Markiplier in a custom Role Playing server for Grand Theft Auto V. It's quite literally a chaotic whirlwind where the main protagonist is a 39 year old divorcee whose love for water is concerning... but not so much as the mans gullible nature and far to generous personality.
This is really only a summation because there are literal HOURS of videos of Markiplier playing Grand Theft Auto and being the voice of Stan Wheeler during his adventures in Los Santos. It features amazing improv and the ever expected rediculous chaos that ensues in Grand Theft Auto.
Bio:
Name: Stanley Wheeler
Gender/Gender Identity: Male
Age: 39
Face Claim: Chris Evans
Voice Claim: Marikplier/ Mark Fischbach
Romantic/ Sexual Preferences: Questioning/ Unsure
Nick names: Fanny pack, Water boy, Sunflower
Personality: Generous, Optimistic, Friendly, Oblivious, Awkward, Curious, Helpful, Trusting
Occupation: Courier, Delivery Man/Boy, Water Delivery Man
Favorite Color(s): Blue & Yellow
Likes: Water, Fanny Packs, Sunflowers, Biking, Work, His Son
Dislikes: Coffee & Soda, Lying, Fighting, Talking to women (watch the episodes to know)
Hobbies: Biking, Boating, Spending time with his son, Meeting new people
Quirks/ Other Traits: Has a strong....Love for water, Suffers from a yet to be diagnosed but constant seizing of bodily muscles that occasionally cause harm, A REAL Virgin 'Dad', Amazing at lockpicking, Terrible Driver
Final Note/ Disclaimer: Again, although this blog is for fun from a truly chaotic and hilarious improvised playthrough of a unique online role playing server for Grand Theft Auto V, please REMEMBER what game Markiplier created and voiced Stan in. Just because Stan is clueless doesnt mean the subject matter is. A lot of dark humor and shady if not bad situations arise in Mark's videos and I really do want people to know that although this is all in good fun the dark unfiltered comedy of Grand Theft Auto is still going to be followed in this portrayal. That means Stanely would very well (and has) ended up robbing people, kidnapping, Killing people or being an accomplice, Jokes based upon sexuality, Gender and then some. Of course before writing I will ALWAYS discuss subject matter that you would like to avoid but unless stated the aforementioned or to those whom have watched the adventures of Stanley know just how inappropriate and harsh/blunt/in your face comedy that is present.
Not only one final disclaimer as to how nsfw Stanley's life and choices end up being-- but giving credit is where it is due; Markiplier. He literally Created Stanley Wheeler and his uh... well him. And brought Stan to life via voice and gameplay. Stan never is and never was mine he's just a character.
Mun absolutely DOES NOT ≠ Muse
Stanley Wheeler-- is an idiot that makes horrible decisions and let's horrible things happen around him. I do not reflect any of the jokes or encounters featured in the gameplay series. I just so happen to enjoy comedy (albeit quite a bit can be not PC) and a good story. Literally this blog came out of a joke my best friend made at 4 am after binging Stan The Water man saying I should make a role play blog for Stanley Wheeler. And so? I did.
Important Note: Activity and response time
Updated: 04/10/2020
I made this blog for myself for fun and the same goes for the people I meet/ interact with. It will be sporadic at best. If I feel like it expect meme or shitpost worthy spamming of the Water Delivery Dad we got but never deserved.
Neither my main nor is Stan a job. Quite bluntly most times when I go inactive I'm literally just doing something else. Anything else.
That ties in to the fact that although I am non selective I am still allowed to say no. And expect reciprocated respect if I say no for ANY reason. I dont owe anyone anything and just like everyone else here this is for fun and enjoyment purposes. This is not our job, and we have nothing forcing us to do this.
But - I am fine with a poke at me and my noggin' every once in a while. I do a lot of things and I cant even remember where I put my vape or phone after 5 minutes. That means I forget. And I do. A LOT. And I can admit that.
MUN & MUSE RULE ZERO: Absolutely no Drama, Vaguing, Callouts, Harassment, Hate or insults/ criticizing on how you THINK the muse I write SHOULD BE.
I'm chill. And I legit hate social confrontation to the point I cry in front of people face to face if it is too much, too hurtful, too angering.
I don't care if someone said something shady our of character that one time or that you think an individual deserves to be directly blasted in front of numerous people.
I dont care if you think that just because I wrote a characters sexual or gender identity outside of what you like.
I dont care how many times you ask or dm me to respond or plot when I had already respectfully declined.
Of course hate and harassment is something I do care for-- because its quite literally just pure toxicity. If you do this you will be ignored and blocked or even reported depending upon when transpired.
All I ask is to be treated kindly in return as I treat everyone until I am given reason not to. That's it. Literally. I am 22 years old and have no patience for any of the aforementioned.
Quite frankly to me it's childish and quite often comedic or petty in my eyes to even have callouts and vauging exist.
I am only addressing this because of the years and various muses canon and original alike I have been harassed for interactions, sent honestly some pretty vile anons, and plenty of messages telling me "X is actually supposed to be gay." Or "no actually they dont like X", I've been called out for literally some of the most childish reasons and my being honest and blunt upset people-- or the word 'No' was not existent in their vocabulary.
And finally-- if for any reason in the RPC someone I am Mutuals/ Mains/ Friends with or just an acquaintance I like talking lore with is involved in any drama I do not want to hear it nor do I care if it does not directly involve me. In fact even then I dont want to unless said person comes to me privately and talks like an adult should rather than throwing a tantrum behind your laptop because someone said an awful word, or beliefs were disliked-- literally any reason or post of a callout. I'm not here for it.
If there is EVER a problem dont be afraid to message me PRIVATELY and talk it out like two mature adults. If I did something to upset you? Let me know I want this blog ESPECIALLY to be for the sake of laughs. Has it been a good month since my last reply? Just send me a lil' hey or just check in. Have I not replied? Its probably just me as the Mun having an awful attention span for anything that isn't hands on.
The Mun:
Look I know the novel above for one singular subject is actually very unfortunately neccessary for me.
My career and as a person have me not only practically programmed but I am openly blunt/ "real" with people.
I am not going to say something you want to hear. You might not like my saying no to a thread but my goal is to be honest and respectful to everyone.
And not only that I'm tired of not covering my ass and trying to pretend this doesn't happen to me behind the scenes or on blast for all to see.
If I plan on sending a private message apologizing for an upsetting subject I wrote of or simply discussing conflicts/ issues privately I hope to god that you who are reading this has the same common courtesy.
Regardless if my blunt sometimes told "Too much" honesty is why I disclose my absolute refusal to negative interactions I really am chill - and occasionally way too excitable or talkative.
I really do love meeting plenty of new people and writers alike in the role playing community as a whole and very much enjoy trying new plots/ ideas out unless it is unreasonable to the plot.
If you wanna just be meme traders for a fellow beloved Fandom or RPC? Ok. I'll try to find some just as good to make the meme trade a fair one.
You wanna make a thread all about how gullible a muse is? Sure!
Maybe even send a thirsty or shitpost worthy ask? 100%
Or do you just have a question about the Muse/Mun/ Or Writing? Go ahead!
I love and live for the angst and self authored stories to Headcanons or missed plot points on muses. The ways so many different types of relationships between characters form and change. But I would also smash the yes button if someone asked me how I felt if someone swung into the ask Simping on lovely Water Boy? Go for it because again; fun. Let's cackle over his style choices or his horribly abused kindess/ trust.
I'm a human guys let's not worry about anything else but the fact we're all here for the same thing: and that's fun and enjoyment as well as having an ability to flex our creative side. It doesnt matter how fantastic or bad (This mun right here) is at edits manips or coding for the theme. We all learn and grow and I just wanna have a good time and I'm sure every normal person that's not a psychopath wants to have a happy healthy safe and fun environment for roleplay/writing.
Thank you for reading this if you did. Any questions? Want Stan to be your water bottle toting and Fanny Pack Efficiency having man get stuck in a plot with your muse? Feel free to hmu send in an ask or meme etc.
I dont bite unless someone bites me with their attitude. I look forward to meeting/interacting/and memeing with everyone.
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