#your children are your property if you birthed them huh? is that fucking it??

[makerscockandballs]

government when a mother is abusive and takes money from her kids be like ooh she couldnt possibly do this her feminine female energy would never let her harm her children. just trust her to do the right thing for the children shes so kind and good towards. did you ever consider you were not kind enough to her? anyway we will neither interfere nor give you the option to fully legally and financially cut her off like the emotional parasite she is. Mit freundlichen Grüßen!

#the fuck!! abuse from women is not lesser abuse! mothers dont get a free pass! #ive been treated badly by men but nothing tops the hell she's put & keeps putting me through #but shes a mother. so shes automatically good. being a mother makes you good right? #your children are your property if you birthed them huh? is that fucking it?? #you sicken me to the core. #all i want is to be free of it. i just. i want a simple small life. my own job and peace of mind. #i dream of a life without her. free of her. that says it all. #basil yells at cloud #tw abuse

[dini73]

Not Today

It's finally here! Thanks so much @whatsmyline-pb for all your help and all you wonderful people out there who always are such an inspiration and motivation. Anyone who wants to be added to the tag list, please let me know.

Fandom: Vikings Rating: Mature Categories: M/F; M/M Relationships: Ivar/Hvitserk; Ivar/Heahmund; Ivar/Reader Trigger warning for mentioning of past drug abuse, loss of loved one, psychological child abuse; see Ao3 for all tags Words: 3808

Bright sunlight blinded Hvitserk’s eyes when he climbed up higher and higher into the huge oak, closely followed by his little brother.

“Wait for me,” he heard toddler Ivar cheerfully giggle. “I’ll get you, Hvitserk!”

And Hvitserk turned around, looking into Ivar’s shining eyes, light blue like a frozen lake and yet full of life and warmth. Tiny teeth innocently exposed to the sun, a chubby hand reaching out to his older brother who leaned forward to grip it and lift Ivar up to the next branch. But just as their soft hands touched, Ivar slipped and Hvitserk couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as his little brother fell and fell until he landed in the meadow below with a dull thud.

The sound went straight to Hvitserk’s core, pumping adrenaline through his veins and waking him up with a racing heartbeat, breathing hard, bare chest covered in cold sweat.

“Ivar,” he breathed panicked, still trying to fully escape the dream, having already stumbled out of bed and towards the entrance of his apartment. There in a little clay bowl, made by his half-sister Gyda, were the keys to the next-door apartment, which belonged to his younger brother, Ivar.

When Hvitserk arrived in his brother’s pitch-dark bedroom, he was devastated to make out the shadow of Ivar on the floor. That could only mean two things: that his baby brother was deadly drunk…or worse.

Not sure which option he’d have to face, Hvitserk slowly knelt. He stretched his arm out but hesitated to let his hand touch Ivar yet.

“Hey brother? Ivar!” and when he carefully shook his brother’s shoulder and was not yelled at, he started to wish Ivar was drunk. Selfishly, Hvitserk longed for the less painful explanation, knowing what followed would break both their hearts. Again.

He carefully leaned over Ivar and whispered, “It’s okay, I’m here.” Then he stood up, turned back the covers on the bed and waited for his brother to drag himself onto it. The ongoing silence, so unlike his brother, scared Hvitserk. After Ivargot himself up and into bed Hvitserk’s heart felt enormously heavy, and he got to bed as well, lining himself up behind his brother, carefully pushing one of his knees between Ivar’s cold, lifeless legs. Just when he lay his arm around Ivar’s waist, offering his other arm as a pillow, the latter mumbled, barely audible, “I can’t take it anymore.”

Fuck. What is he supposed to say to that? “It’s all going to be okay”? Because how could it? They both knew it would be such a lie.

So instead Hvitserk drew Ivar closer and asked him: “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that. Breathe.”

After a few minutes Ivar’s breathing steadied and Hvitserk calmed down a bit himself, only to start wondering what had put Ivar in such a state. His thoughts wandered and Hvitserk didn’t realise that he was slowly drifting back to sleep until a rough voice suddenly mumbled, “I wish I could be just like everyone else. Not standing out. Not in constant pain. And not needing to be looked after.”

And while that should have made Hvitserk’s heart break, it nearly cheered him up; all his brother longed for, was so reasonable. But above all, the bitterness with which he proclaimed his dreams, although only whispered, showed his strength. Yes, he might be in despair, and who wouldn’t? But Ivar would never give up. That was something Hvitserk was so sure of in that moment.

He cleared his throat: “Well my dear brother, if you of all the people would be just like everybody else, this world would be a damn boring place.” And he knew how Ivar smiled in that moment even if he couldn’t see it, and he felt his chest broaden. And he went on: “And -as much as it hurts me to admit - someone so remarkable, like you, will always stand out.” And hey, that even earned him a little huff.

Ivar had taken his brother’s hand and their thumbs brushed over each other’s fingers, just the way they had done when they were kids.

“Regarding the pain, brother; not the one who never fell, but the one who always stood up again is the strongest of them all.”

“That some wisdom of your Buddha, huh?” Ivar teased playfully.

“Fuck you,” Hvitserk smiled and hurried to bury his face in Ivar’s neck. They both knew that these two words were actually saying: “There is nothing in this world I’d rather do than to take care of you. I love you.”

It was silent again. No cars were driving outside yet and Hvitserk couldn’t even hear a bird over the loud pulsing of his blood. It must be between two or three o’clock in the morning.

Ivar’s strong hands clasped close around his brother’s wrist while his right elbow punched Hvitserk playfully in his side.

“Hey,” he complained.

Ivar then twisted his upper body, pushed himself a bit up and turned his face towards his brother. Their lips were just inches apart and Hvitserk felt Ivar’s warm breath on his when he looked him deep in the eyes and then hummed a drowsy, “Good night”.

They must have fallen asleep straight afterwards since Hvitserk couldn’t remember closing his eyes at all, but now, awake again, he heard many birds chirping outside. Once more he was grateful, they had not only found neighbouring apartments, but that they had come with a roof terrace. Not only thecoolest thing for parties but also a great space to grow strawberries in the summer, some herbs, tomatoes lavender and some tiny trees, which attracted a lot of tiny birds. Sometimes Hvitserk was still surprised how much he really liked gardening, but it had helped him a lot during his past struggle. Taking care of something that could grow and prosper under his touch, through his care, proved to him once again that he was needed and able to do good.

It had always been like that though, Hvitserk had always been the one everyone in the family could rely on. He had always gladly helped and still it was just so often overlooked. Being sandwiched between siblings— three older, two elevated by their superior lineage, and the two youngest, so loud and demanding, constantly fighting for their parent’s attention— Hvitserk shared the fate of most middle children; being taken granted for by everyone.

Somehow no one had ever wondered, why it was him who started to get up at night and go over to the room Sigurd and Ivar shared as kids when the latter cried. Hvitserk didn’t blame Sigurd though, who was still so young himself, and he would never blame anyone anyway. Still, sometimes he had wondered why Ubbe never thought it was his duty as the eldest to help their overtired parents by looking after Ivar at night sometimes. After a while Hvitserk’s sleep got so light that Ivar just had to whimper, and his older brother was there to soothe him before his parents even heard anything.

Of course, it was their mom, and only she, who was able to get through to Ivar when he was in really bad pain, when he had another broken bone or had extreme growing pains. And during the days it was Ubbe or their dad who made sure to keep Ivar entertained and occupied as good as possible, as much as Aslaug allowed, to distract Ivar from his chronic pain. But it was always Hvitserk who calmed Ivar when he had a bad dream or was sad and frustrated and couldn’t sleep because the rising pain kept him awake. Then his older brother would carefully cuddle up to him and retell him the stories he himself had just heard from Ubbe. Hvitserk loved Ubbe dearly and his storytelling abilities was only one of the many things Hvitserk admired him for.

Cuddling up to each other became their routine, and then sometimes Hvitserk would stroke his baby brother’s back in calming circles, sometimes he just held his tiny shaking hand, sometimes he’d whisper stories and sometimes it took never-ending assurances of “it will soon be better” before Ivar fell asleep again.

The calming circles was a trick Gyda had shown him; Hvitserk was sure that he would have had no chance of ever looking after Ivar if Gyda and Björn had lived in the same house. But sharing the same property with two main houses was all Lagertha and Aslaug could agree to. The houses had to be in fact the exact replicas, his father grumbling that this made him look like an idiot to the rest of Kattegat, while Aslaug was furious hers wasn’t bigger, as she had given him not only two but four children and one needed special care, while Lagertha always played the “but I was his first wife and gave birth to his first son” card. This bickering had been a constant background noise to them all throughout their childhood.

The kids all got along well. Sometimes it seemed as if they were making up for their parent’s constant fighting. Hvitserk looked up to Ubbe, Ubbe adored Björn, Sigurd was a needy little pest but was always kept in check by their sweet sister Gyda who was the one person all of them always instantly listened to, even though she never raised her voice. And they all loved their baby brother Ivar.

Looking back, Hvitserk thought that never raising her voice had worked wonders for Gyda and had been her superpower in the often so loud household. Wherever she went, Gyda exuded an atmosphere of calm and friendliness.

Hvitserk missed his half-sister, while, lost in thought, he stroked a strand of damp hair from Ivar's forehead. After some time, he carefully made sure that Ivar was still asleep and then snuck out of the bed and back to his own apartment.

These neighbouring apartments had been a gift from the gods, just when both had needed a wink from fate. After Hvitserk got released from rehab Aslaug didn’t want to have him in their house anymore. She was very outspoken about it and about her reason for it: she feared for Ivar. Those words, yelled in a high-pitched voice, made Ivar doubt his mother’s sanity for the second time in his life. Her angry announcement also led to a fierce fight between Ragnar and Athelstan; Athelstan didn’t want to waste a moment before welcoming Hvitserk in the home he and Ragnar shared. But Ragnar proclaimed that it would do Hvitserk no good if he wasn’t forced to stand on his own feet again.

Being of age and with both his parents not wanting him around, Hvitserk was overjoyed that his little brother was finally sick of Aslaug’s suffocating love and was similarly anxious to get out of the toxic household.

It also helped immensely that Ragnar’s guilty consciousness led him to move mountains and loads of money to grant them their neighbouring apartments over the roofs of Copenhagen.

Aslaug had a fit that someone in a wheelchairwould want to move to a roof top loft, but all three men had done their best to just ignore her. The boys would swear they had later heard their dad’s thoughts on exactly where their mom could shove her concerns regarding the roof top, as they argued on the street.

The modern building had an excellent lift, and the character of the loft gave Ivar all the space he needed. Ragnar made sure that his good friend Floki oversaw any needed adjustments in regards of the widths of the doors or the accessibility of the terrace.

Ivar’s apartment also had adjusted furniture throughout all rooms and Floki took pride in designing the kitchen himself.

Now, back in his own apartment, the cold blanket over Hvitserk’s unused bed made him shiver as he wrapped himself in it. He couldn’t fall asleep again. Instead, he lay there, stared at his ceiling, a wave of emotions suddenly clashing over him. The last three years had been such a roller coaster.

Thora.

His fingers clung to the blanket almost painfully.

Hvitserk pressed his eyes together and forced himself to try some steady breaths, just as he had shown to Ivar only a few hours ago. After a few minutes, he breathed out deeply, opened his eyes and mumbled into the darkness: “You did well. You overcame things, Hvits. You did it and you can still do it.” And suddenly, his anxiety switched to a slightly hysterical laughter. “Oh fuck!” he laughed staring at the ceiling again. “I’m such a pathetic loser, mumbling to myself in the dark…”

But his words didn’t contain any heat and a small smile formed on his lips since he knew he wasn’t a pathetic looser. At least definitely not when it came to other people. Hvitserk knew that he was a good brother. Especially to Ivar. Always had, always would be.

Hvitserk relaxed a bit more in his bed and thought back to their childhood again. He had always understood Ivar’s despair, his illness making him incapable to certain aspects of life. Hvitserk had never looked to the side or pretend not to hear when small sniffles filled his brother’s bedroom. Hvitserk could never stand anyone being in pain.

That’s how he and Ivar had become inseparable, even though Hvitserk had never stopped loving spending time with Ubbe. But the nights filled with hidden sobs belonged to him and his baby brother. When they had gotten a bit older and started school, they started to hide their cuddling from the rest, Hvitserk always sneaking back to his bed before anyone woke up. Just as they had done now. But nevertheless, hiding it sometimes didn’t sit well with Hvitserk since they weren’t doing anything wrong. And he often longed for owning up to it.

Especially when the comforting felt so good.

******

The next time Hvitserk woke was thanks to his vibrating phone. With narrowed eyes he tapped around his bed to find it. The sun was already shining brightly into his room, and he wondered what time it was.

With a groan he opened the screen but then smiled.

Ivar had sent a picture of his famous pancakes and the teasing/taunting message, “Liking them cold now?”

Hvitserk answered with the running man emoji and jumped out of bed to get a quick shower.

About 15 minutes and a stack of freshly made pancakes later, Ivar asked, “Good?” with a raised eyebrow, rather amused about the way Hvitserk stuffed the sweets in.

“Sure,” Hvitserk grinned and held his coffee cup up shaking it in the air in silent request.

“Huh! Don’t you have legs, anymore?” Ivar huffed with mocked indignation, nevertheless taking the cup and limping towards his fancy coffee machine.

Those were the good moments. And Ivar had them, and they both loved them, but there was still the underlying question about last night. While Ivar pushed the buttons on the shiny coffee machine to make his brother an Americano, Hvitserk started to play around on his phone.

And there it was, the explanation for last night:

Special needs Ragnarsson to join university of Copenhagen

There are pictures too. They must have caught Ivar yesterday afternoon; looking very grumpy while he had tried to climb the stairs of the university, struggling with his crutches while carrying the registration paperwork under one arm as well.

“Ivar…” he sighed, a dull plain already clenching around his heart.

He could see how Ivar’s back muscles stiffened before he hissed a frustrated: “Don’t.”

Gosh, how Hvitserk hated the paparazzi for what they were constantly doing to them. If it wasn’t him being caught drunk, Björn with some women or Sigurd with some guy, they could always rip on Ivar.

“You could’ve…” he started but got harshly interrupted by his brother.

“No, I can’t always run whining to Ubbe, okay?” He slammed his coffee angrily on the table with such a force, that little droplets of coffee splashed to his plate. “And I won’t! Besides they just caught me off guard,” Ivar hissed through gritted teeth.

They both sat silently for a while, trying to concentrate on their breakfast, which no longer tasted that good, with all the tension in the air.

Ivar knew his brother was just worried about him, but he didn’t need that, well at least he didn’t want it. He wanted to stand up for himself and make his own decisions. And it was probably this thought that made him admit: “I visited mom, afterward.”

He didn’t even have to look over to Hvitserk to know how immediately tense he became. Biting his lower lip, a frown on his forehead Ivar prepared himself to hear a litany of reasons why that had been a fucking stupid idea.

Just as Hvitserk opened his mouth, Ivar got ahead of him. Looking out of the huge window, concentrating on the clouds to avoid looking at his brother, he admitted in a low voice:

“I just had to, Hvit. I wanted to show her the stuff from university and just share that with her.” And then he turned around facing his brother, suddenly quite furiously: “Just because you all hate her, I don’t, okay!?”

Hvitserk dropped his fork in resignation. Pancakes or not, it was too early to have this discussion again. And while he wondered how they could have arrived at this argument again, his phone beeped.

Ubbe: Is he okay?

Hvitserk huffed, rolled his eyes, and typed the fitting emoji in the box, adding, “what do you think?” Then added another message: “for even more fun, he went to see mother afterwards…”

Ubbe: ugh, one day I’ll get her a restraining order, I swear!

Hvitserk: only if you want Ivar never to speak to you again…

Unnerved from the typing, Ivar felt he’d lash out on his brother any second when he got a message himself.

The sender startled him, though, and a surprised “Huh” escaped his lips. He was supporting himself with one hand on the kitchen island, staring at his mobile in the other with quite some disbelieve.

“What’s it?”

“It’s from Lagertha,” Ivar frowned.

Abandoning his own mobile and instead reaching for the last pancake – because tension or not, Hvitserk was definitely not wasting any food - he wondered what Lagertha was up to.

They all tried to be civil with her, although being honest and more precise, it was only Ivar and he who needed some effort to behave around her. Ubbe had always adored her, although maybe Ubbe had only always adored Björn and dreamt about having the same mother as his big idol.

And do not get him started on Sigurd. That idiot would write an essay about the hardships of this poor, hard fighting women, who lost her husband to some bitch of a woman. Whose then ex-husband never stop hitting on her and dreaming about the three of them living together before he finally gave up on both and moved on. On to Athelstan, the ex-priest he had fallen in love with on one of his many travels.

It was no wonder Sigurd adored Lagertha as she had never - in contrast to both his biological parents – looked down on his musical aspirations as weak, and even supported him to try turn his passion into a proper job. Nonetheless, Hvitserk never understood why his little brother had come out as bisexual to Lagertha first and not to their father, given his current situation. That was one step too many if you asked Hvitserk. He and all his brothers would have been – well were – supportive of Sigurd. The fact he trusted Lagertha more than them, had driven a wedge between Sigurd and him. It had hurt and confused him, and he didn’t want to dislike Sigurd. And sometimes Hvitserk thought it had just been another way for his younger brother to get attention.

For a very short time Sigurd had been the family’s baby and gotten all their mother’s attention. She was so proud of him when he was born with a sign in his eyes. She had been walking around telling everyone about old sagas and that “Sigurd Snake in the Eye” was born for higher things. And then Ivar was born and all of Aslaug’s attention was drawn to him.

As understandable as it was that Ivar needed more attention than other babies, Aslaug just completely forgot about Sigurd. Forgot about all of them, actually, but Hvitserk and Ubbe had already been at an age where not too much attention from their mother was actually welcomed. Whereas Sigurd was just a toddler himself and didn’t understand what he could have done wrong to be totally wiped from his mother’s plate. Still craving for her love and attention, Sigurd identified Ivar as the cause of his misery and had despised him since then.

It was entirely thanks to Gyda that things between the two youngest never escalated. She had always put so much effort in bringing the two youngest together and creating a mutual understanding for each other’s situations. And while their dad was grateful, in awe of his daughter, both of his ex-wives, at some point, grew weary of Gyda’s efforts. Hvitserk never understood what had happened then and neither Lagertha nor his mother ever cared to explain anything to them. One day, Gyda had simply left. It had taken a whole year for her to reach out to them again.

“What does she want?” Hvitserk sighed, not sure if he really cared. Sometimes Hvitserk just wanted his former, very uncomplicated life back. The life they had, when their parents were still together, the life prior to Sigurd getting caught being fucked up the ass by a slimy music producer or Hvitserk lying in his own vomit after a bad trip. No, don’t think back to the drugs, he instantly told himself. He closed his eyes and wished that Ivar either wouldn’t notice his trembling hand or would think that it was Lagertha stressing him out. After all, he had been clean for nearly two years now.

Luckily Ivar didn’t seem to realise his sudden instability or maybe put it down as him still needing more sugar. He didn’t comment on it, at least, but instead explained:

“She said some guy saw one of my photographs at her home and asked if there was more. He might be interested in buying.”

“Oh. Well, that’d be cool, no?” Hvitserk replied with a full mouth.

Ivar huffed, and then looked at his brother. He had a smirk on his lips and didn’t seem to be angry any longer: “Well, definitely cooler than the guy’s name.”

Hvitserk raised an eyebrow questioningly. And when Ivar read, with exaggerated clarity, “Heahmund” they both started to laugh.

@not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pieces-by-me @punkrocknpearls @vikingstrash

#vikings au #vikings fanfiction #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #hvitserk #vikings hvitserk #ragnarssons #ragnar lothbrok #heahmund x ivar #ivar x reader #floki #athelstan #lagertha #gyda #vikings #sigurd #vikings ubbe #aslaug #vikings bjorn

[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader Remember part 52

The whole class was shocked that Bakugo was the one to pick up the phone. His yell was loud enough to alert Shouji. Seconds it took Shouji to race down the stairs like a spider on every energy possible to enter the room.

“That’s Y/n?” He yelled out of breath.

“Shouji! Get off the phone baku-butts!” The class heard Y/n on the other line.

“Y/n-” Shouji didn’t know what to say.

“Did you tell the teachers about me?” She asked him a sweet voice.

It was a sliver of hope, her voice. Still here in this world, gracing it with her warm presence.

“Yes, of course, Y/n- what, why?”

She told him too!

“I’m a master planner is why!” She said like it wasn’t that serious. “Good, good. I bet this will go quite well.”

Those words destroyed that sliver of peace. Master plan of his hell!

“Y/n why would you do this?” Momo yelled into the home phone. “We could help you if you just let us”

“Once I knew my mother was helping the league, it was my fate to do this. I wasn’t brought to UA for my silly mistakes, but because I was meant to be here, to guide the heroes to stop the league. I’ll take the teachers where they need to be, and I say the things I need to say to my mom.” Y/n explained. “its family business first.”

“You could have told her those things when she rots in prison,” Sero said. “You don’t have-”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be given the chance, but you guys are worth it. I just want you guys to survive your hero course and then become the hereoes you want to be, later. Especially Shouji. I’m sorry I hurt you, and the rest of the class, you’re extra special to me Mezo.”

“Y/n...please,” Shouji begged.

“Shouji you got to be my hero so many times. I know you don’t want me to do this, but you’re worth it. I love you, so much that I don’t want to imagine a world where you get killed or injured by my mother’s creations. I have to be the one to do this.”

“Y/n you can come back we can-” Shouji said.

“Please insert more money to continue the call.”

This was still part of Y/n’s plan. Sure she wish she could hear more of Shouji’s voice, but she knew she had to do this now or never. The class would tell the teachers about the phone call, to ensure she would be found dead or alive. Or at least the location in question.

 She turned to the woods boarding the town and sighed. A road cut through it, the same road her mother drove on. The sign of private property glared at her as she entered the unknown. She took deep breath and continued.

Looking back she wished she could have told Aizawa she did appreciate all his help. They may have butt heads, but she knew he cared about her well being even though he didn’t have to. He busted her shoulder and that’s how it started. That’s the logical way to see this as, but Y/n saw it as destiny was how she ended up here. It was destiny to meet Shouji too. To fall for him, to care for him, to bring her back to her mother in order to save him once. She was risking her life and memories, but she believed deep down she would find her way back no matter what. 

At the check point there was a fence around a building deep in the woods. It was an electrical fence 8 feet high. There at the gate was a camera and a scanner. She took a deep breath and went for it.

“Hello?” She asked the scanner.

“State your name and purpose.” A voice from the scanner said. 

“I’m (full name) Dr (last name)‘s daughter. I just.” She began to tear up. “I need to see my mom, I can’t take it there anymore.” She sobbed.

Thirty seconds went by and the gate opened. Easy as pie. She walked up to the building and entered. It was white, sterile. There was a guard sitting at the computer. 

“Your mother is down stairs.” He said. “You haven’t been here in quite some time.”

“Huh?” She pretended to be dumb. “I think I’ve only been here once or twice.”

“Huh, my mistake.”

Yet Y/n knew where the down stairs was. It was assumed her mother was notify she was here. Her heart race as there was no turning back. The elevator opened to reveal the real laboratory. The walls were tall holding containers of what seemed to be half baked experiments of living things that grew in tubes. She saw her mother taking notes on one of the containers. Her attention turned to her daughter as she heard the elevator ding.

“Y/n, you’re here.” She said. “We might get in trouble for this, but as your mother I have your back. Is that Aizawa-ass a huge jerk?”

“Oh he’s the worst!” Y/n sobbed. “This was all just too much on me. I can’t use my phone at all, and I got hurt!”

Her mother set the notes down to examine her own daughter. She placed her hand on Y/n’s cheek. It burned Y/n to leave it there, but she had to keep up the act for now.

“I’m so sorry. We’ve been playing by their rules for so long.” Her mother sighed. “It doesn’t have to be like that though. It can be like how things were. Remember? When it was just me and you, shopping and icecream?”

Y/n looked past her mother and saw in a container further back, was a NOMU fully grown with a brain sticking out. She had to pretend more and more as it got harder.

“I do mom.” Y/n said. 

“What did they do to you?” Her mother’s attention began going back to the container, she was asking for white noise.

“I came in contact with a NOMU. Or that’s what they called it.” Y/n said.

“Mm hmm?”

“And it is said to be a bunch of people in one body with multiple quirks. It’s man made.” Y/n explained more.

“Yeah?” She took more notes. 

“And you created them didn’t you.” Y/n said.

A slow smile crept on the doctor’s face.

“I wish I could take full credit, but it was a collaboration. Someone’s idea and my intelligence really did mix well together.” She said. “And you’re here to do what?”

“I’m gonna stop you.” Y/n said activating the quirk in her arms to fire.

“You! My creation?” The doctor asked.

Y/n swung at her mother. The older woman ducked down and got a pole from the floor and hit her daughter in the stomach with it. It electrocuted her. Y/n fell flat on her back, confused.

“This is for the NOMUs. I knew betrayal would always be in you whether I used my quirk or not. It would always resurface.” The doctor said. “You know how disappointed I was when child services came because you called 911? What kind of child rats on her own family? I could’ve been great. Solving the world’s questions they’re too scared to even research!” 

“You’re insane!”

“Am I? I birth four ungrateful children to make them the best possible examples of human life.” The doctor yelled kicking Y/n’s side. “Two run away to fulfill their lame careers, one committing petty crimes and the other had no better purpose than to become a NOMU.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would! I refuse to lose my identity, my power, my ambitions to motherhood. It was never rewarding. None of you got my intelligence. Only my drive to fulfil your dreams.” The doctor hissed. “Tell me why now are you so pissed off? Did you fall in love with a wannabe hero?”

Y/n was scared. She was electrocuted again as she screamed in agony. She felt her muscles move against her brain waves. She couldn’t move.

“You could have been a better hero if your father didn’t stop me. Look at you wanting to lose yourself into someone else. What did they do? Call you pretty? Thought you were nice? Like some painting to hang on the wall and be forgotten about?” 

Her mother kept hitting her with the device. Asking her questions.

“Forget about them, and maybe when you meet again, you’ll be the true potential you could never meet as NOMU!” 

“Fuck you!” Y/n cried out as she gave a last ditch kick to her mother’s leg. 

 “Get her!” 

Two lab assistants took Y/n by her legs and arms. She struggled and tried activating her quirk. Her mother looked her in the eyes and starting to activate her own quirk on Y/n.

“Stop it!” Y/n yelled. “Stop it! Stop it stop it!”

“Drug her up.” Her mother told a third lab assistant who shoved a needle into her side. 

 Y/n body violently shook as they carried her into a smaller room with a bed. The assistants grunted as she struggled. Her mother grabbed her face more to activate her own quirk to see how far Y/n would handle it. Y/n tried fighting the urge not to black out, but with the drugs, the arm around her neck and the hands on her limbs there was no hope. 

#shoji mezo #mezo shoji #Shouji Mezou #bnha shoji #shouji mezo #shoji x reader #Mezo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #series #xreader

[inkribbon796]

Arkham Mysteries Ch 1

Summary: Whispers of a horror time forgot and monster fueled by twisted magic The district of Arkham is home to powers old as the birth of the universe, and as new as modern technology.

In a little town outside of Gainesville, Florida children and adults go missing. Little Remus Prince becomes another childhood statistic, but he does not die like others before him.

A/N: Blood and gore warning! It’s Remus’s birthday and here’s a Lovecraft Au and there will be death in this one, but not to Remus or Janus. They are my babies.

Guess who’s getting back into the Lovecraft mythos after Color out of Space? It’s me, I love cosmic horror. So because I was bitten by some plot bunnies after that short I did during Darkstache Week, I wrote some more. When will I update this? Hell if I know maybe every third week, maybe once every two months. It depends but all of them will be compiled here instead of linked together shorts. Enjoy.

Chapters: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4

Chapter 1: Snake in the Grass

It was a humid August day, the dusk of a new moon was about to rise up into the darkening sky.

Remus angrily kicked the wild flowers, angry as he tried to blink the tears from his eyes. He just wanted to play with Roman and his friends. But Roman always acted like he was the literal plague and at best ignored him, or at worst, pushed him away.

So he was walking around the woods behind their house, angry and sad, when he heard something.

Remus stopped, the sound was like a sob of pain mixed with some type of high pitched hiss of frustration. Looking around a bit for a good sized stick and immediately went to check the source of the noise.

Climbing over a downed tree trunk, Remus almost stepped on top of someone lying in a net trap, the boy’s arms trapped to his side, little metal studs painfully digging into his side and arms. What froze Remus wasn’t the fact that there was another kid lying in the trap, but that they didn’t have any legs. Instead there was a long yellow snake tail, patches of green scales like freckles on his body.

The snake boy immediately looked at Remus and hissed at him, one eye a dark brown, the other a bright yellow.

Remus just stared at the boy, so captivated by the sight of him. The snake boy then looked in another direction and gave a desperate hiss, almost screeching out. It was enough to shake Remus from his trance and he started working to get the boy out, almost getting bitten in the process.

It took a little bit and the boy started helping the instant his arms were free. Afterwards he let out an indignant hiss at the trap, as if screaming at it.

“So pretty,” Remus couldn’t help himself and touched where the boy’s legs should be. His scales were cold and smooth instead of slimy. Running down the snake boy’s spine was a short ridge of brown, white, and black feathers that bristled at the touch of Remus’s hands.

The snake boy started and dragged him into the tree stump, there was a hole that had been made by a couple animals before them. It was full of mushrooms and bugs and Remus was instantly enchanted by them.

“Ooh, this is one’s slimy,” Remus said.

The boy slapped his hand over his mouth. “Shhh!”

Remus noticed the palm of his hand had some scales on it and in a typical Remus fashion of not thinking and wanting to see what something tasted like, licked his hand. It tasted like blood and swamp mud.

“Ugh,” the snake boy hissed.

At that moment, four men came out of the bushes, making the boy press Remus closer to the squishy bottom of the rotting tree trunk. Remus watched in amazement as the bright yellow scales started to turn a mottled brown, successfully camouflaging him with the tree, and Remus with the tree in the process.

“The fuck he go?” One of men snarled, Remus finally noticing that the men all had rifles.

“Couldn’ta gone far,” one of the others reassured. “Look at all this blood.”

Remus noticed a particularly sharp stone lying in the trunk. He grabbed it and braced himself to lunge out and stab the hunter who was wandering closer to the mouth of the trunk.

There was a loud growling hiss and the men all turned away from the trap.

“What was that?”

“Probably a mama looking for her baby, with any luck.”

“Stay quiet,” the snake boy whispered. Then he let out a hissing caterwaul.

Remus heard the sound of a rifle being cocked back, he readied his little stone as someone knelt down and looked at the two of them. His eyes traveled around the hole until he noticed them.

“There you are,” he smiled.

Remus screamed and drove the stone into the man’s face. He screamed, the rifle fired, almost hitting one of the other hunters.

Suddenly the hunters had worse to deal with than a small child with a sharp stone and an injured naga in a tree trunk. Six large nagas, each twice the size of a human, surged out of the tree line, moving impossibly fast. The small yellow snake boy surged out of the trunk and wrapped around Remus, coiling his tail around him and forcing him to drop the stone. Remus watched as the four hunters were attacked, bullets bouncing off hardened scales like tiny pebbles.

Their screams were burned into his mind, grown men strangled until they were unconscious and then tied up for a better purpose.

The largest of the six nagas slid over to the two boys, Remus’s new friend’s coiled muscles tightening around Remus just a hair tighter. She just stared at them and the naga boy hissed warningly at her.

That got an amused chuckle out of her, she lowered down closer to  his level. “What do you have there, little Janny?”

“Mine,” Janus hissed, still protecting Remus.

“Little hatchling,” the serpentine humanoid smiled in such an odd way that made Remus reflexively giggle a bit, almost like his soul was trying to leave his body. “He’s a bit too big for you to eat.”

“You’re pretty,” Remus smiled, starting to reach out to touch that long, pretty black hair.

“Mine,” Janus hissed, coiling a bit tighter around Remus, hugging Remus so that the boy’s arms were pinned to his body. “I want to keep him.”

The woman looked behind her, talking to one of the other nagas in a language Remus didn’t understand, but it made this brain feel fuzzy. He liked it, giggling a bit. The other nagas laughed and Janus the naga let out an angry huff.

“May I speak with your pet?” The larger naga asked Janus. “I promise not to eat him.”

Janus began to uncoil himself, but kept a hand on Remus’s arm.

“Hello little monkey,” she greeted.

“Hello, ma’am,” Remus greeted politely, giving a toothy smile.

“Such a pleasant little thing,” she hissed lovingly.

“My momma says I’m a little monster,” Remus smiled confidently, a huge smile on his face.

“Hmmm,” she hissed, curling his hair behind his ear. “Really? What type of monster?”

Remus shrugged, his hands going up a bit, “She never told me, ma’am.”

“Would you like to come with us?” She asked. “We’re having a party to celebrate, we’ll eat your friends.”

“They’re not my friends,” Remus told her, picking up the still-bloody stone. “I stabbed one.”

“You are just a delight, aren’t you, little monkey?” She chortled.

“I don’t want him eaten,” Janus told her.

“We won’t,” she promised, and Janus dragged Remus along to follow the group. He followed them into a cave that led out into a cavern with a hole carved into the ceiling. So that when the moon was highest in the sky it would be visible, regardless of the time of the year.

There was a group of thirty snake people, but only one other child, and they instantly tried to bite Remus when he got close. Janus hissed at them and then dragged him away, presenting Remus with a little necklace made of leaves, flower stems, and sharp stones that caught the light of the moon.

For the first time in Remus’s young life he felt included in something, that he was wanted. More wanted than anyone or anything had made him feel in his life

As he sat, watching a ceremony that would culminate in four people being strangled and ripped to shreds to be eaten, blood covering a stone altar whose purpose Remus’s young, yet untainted mind couldn’t fathom.

Truthfully, Remus’s fate wasn’t to go home when he met Janus, but he wouldn’t fight the nest’s decision. He was already home.

~::~ 13 Years Later ~::~

Remus was humming a little tune to himself, holding a large stick that looked more like a mace with several nails and sharp objects driven through it.

“Hey, buddy,” someone suddenly behind Remus called out. He was armed. “It’s too dangerous for you to be here. ‘Sides it’s private property.”

Remus turned to look at him, itching the edge of his mustache. “Huh?”

The man could almost feel like something was wrong, like a particularly smart fish looking at a flashy lure. But he couldn’t exactly place, but he looked at this young man half his age, staring at a patch of swamp as if he planned to swim in crocodile-infested water.

“You shouldn’t be here, you have folks I can call?” The man asked. “This area’s full of gators.”

Remus let out a full body chuckle, smiling at him. “Oh I’m planning on it.”

Somewhere behind him the man heard the rustling and snapping of twigs. He started to check his gun as he turned to look behind him, seeing a dark shadow moving somewhere in the distance.

“Hey!” Remus shouted, running towards the man with his mace, the man cursed and started to raise his rifle towards him.

The man barely was half turned when something large slammed into him from the direction he’d just been facing. He was knocked to the ground, gun flying to the ground, discharging harmlessly into the forest. The man screamed as he felt something like a snake coiling around him but a flawed hand at his throat, ripping at the soft flesh of his throat to kill him even faster.

Remus stepped closer, his mace hiding behind his back like it was a surprise. He smiled as he kicked the rifle into the small, nearby swampy lake.

The man was weakly fighting as the large, yellow serpentine body continued crushing and constructing. Words bubbles in his throat but because of his state he couldn’t make words.

Remus leaned in, stroking Janus’s side as he spoke to the man, “Shhh, don’t fight, it prolongs it, and I hear a brain hemorrhage sours the taste.”

He finally took a couple steps back and leaned on his mace as he watched.

Janus’s victim didn’t last much longer the claws mixed with a crushing strength of serpentine muscles against a human rib cage . . . well, it would have been laughable to even admit he stood a chance.

Because Remus was standing close enough, but not close enough to be a threat to an apex creature’s newest meal, he got blood spattered on him as he watched another human die.

After Janus was done feeding, he looked over at Remus, his iris narrowed slits.

“How was he ma moitié,” Remus grinned, waving his fingers at the naga.

The yellow naga slid over, coiling loosely around Remus and leaning down to kiss him. Remus felt all the tension leave his body when their lips touched.

“You did wonderfully,” Janus praised, tracing the bottom of Remus’s face.

Remus let out a giggle cackle, jumping up excitedly, “Do we have to head back to the nest? It’s been ages since I stretched my legs.”

“Well we do have a bit of time,” Janus smiled. “Can’t let my favorite pet go stir crazy.”

The human let out a wild giggle that reeked of madness, “I’m your only pet, Dee.”

“True,” Janus’s right eyebrow arched. “I do always like to keep you on your toes. Let’s go before I fall asleep.”

“Yay,” Remus scrambled over part of Janus’s body, already starting to scramble down the path. As he walked, taking a long, slow stride, the nearly silent sliding of a large snake in the forest turned into the soft footfall of feet on dirt.

Remus turned around to see Janus following him, walking backwards, the naga looking human but with an air of not looking quite right. The left side of his face and hands covered in green and yellow scales. He left out a trilling bird call, hissing through his teeth. “Always such a looker ma moitié.”

“Focus on the road, I’d love for you to trip and gash your head open,” Janus’s hiss was almost a warm purr.

“I walk just fine,” Remus laughed, right before tripping over a large rock. Janus let out a higher pitched laugh.

Remus groaned a bit at the sharp pain in his ankle, but smiled at the laughter from his serpentine boyfriend. The nagas were a sadistic bunch, and Remus could only feel a similar giggle bubbling from his body, it felt so good to hear Janus laugh.

Janus let out a warning hiss right before someone’s voice said, “You boys okay?”

Janus quickly turned the left side of his face to hide his scales, burying his hands in his cloak. An older woman was coming down the trail.

Jumping up, Remus stood in front of Janus, “Oh we’re fine, just tripped is all.”

“Oh, I just heard some screaming is all,” she said. “I was just worried, is all. Do you boys live near here?”

“Yes,” Remus answered, trying to hide his nervous giggle. “Just moved in, city life is so stifling.”

The old woman just smiled, “It’s so good to see young people moving back into the village.”

“Yeah, well,” Remus smiled. “We’re okay, do you need help back to the village?”

“What are you doing?” Janus hissed demandingly, the hairs on the back of Remus’s neck stood on end in dangerous discomfort.

“Just trust me, it’s a town,” Remus whispered, and walked over to the woman.

“Aren’t you a nice gentleman?” The older woman smiled, but squinted her eyes a bit when he got closer. “Have we met before?”

“Maybe?” Remus shrugged, starting to head in the direction the woman had come from.

“Yes, you’re Miranda’s boy, always such a sweet boy,” she smiled pleasantly as something painful began to boil in Remus’s heart. Something that the human thought he had killed and buried years ago.

“I thought you went off to the big city?” She asked.

“Surprise?” Remus grinned, she smiled back.

They walked for a bit, the woman talking and Remus trying not to scream and alert more humans. Janus was just silently watching him, following at a distance, still looking human enough to fool most actual humans. Eventually it was all over, the woman lived towards the edge of town and Remus waved her goodbye, refusing to come inside. He felt like his skin was trying to crawl away from him.

Finally the door was closed and Remus stared at the town, barely visible through the trees.

“Are you quite done?” Janus huffed, clearly angry.

“Where are we?” Remus asked.

Janus was quiet for a second, clearly upset and angry. “I don’t know, we try to stay away from this place, it’s too big for us to take.”

“Why stay away? You could glut yourself on this town for decades and no one would know.”

“Because I found you near here,” Janus commented.

Something uncomfortable stabbed at Remus’s heart, of a small boy whose only playmate never wanted him around.

“Let’s burn it to the ground,” Remus growled maliciously.

Whatever reaction Janus expected from the human, it clearly hadn’t been willful arson.

“It’s unsafe, our nest is too close,” Janus warned.

“We’re due to move again, and the new moon is coming up, the Grand Leader was complaining yesterday about not having enough sacrifices,” Remus’s grin was impossible to wipe off his face, he gestured to the town in the distance. “Here’s more than we could ever need. Yig would be so pleased.”

“Enough!” Janus hissed, his features more monstrous. The naga grabbed Remus by the arm and began pulling him back to the nests. “What have we told you about invoking his name? You are still human, never forget that!”

Once they were far enough away Janus turned back into his proper form. “You are not leaving me, you swore to me with your own blood. You are mine, Remus, those filthy humans can’t have you.”

“I don’t want to go back, I want them dead!” Remus shouted back, bravely looking into the naga’s eyes. “I want them all dead.”

Janus seemed to calm down a bit, stroking the side of Remus’s face. “Yes, of course. I’ll talk with the others, but I’m not making any promises.”

Remus leaned into the touch, trying to calm the bloodlust inside of him. He would be back, with or without the Grand Leader’s permission. The town would burn, and maybe the smog in his heart would finally lift.

He followed his love back to the naga nests, he’d find his brother again and wet his blood on the new moon altar.

Or he would die trying.

#Lovecraft AU #Arkham Mystery #blood #gore #birthday post #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #dukeceit #snake boy #somewhat graphic depictions of death #themes of cosmic horror #Yig the snake god #child kidnapping #baby gays #mental instability #human sacrifice #kid!Remus #kid!Janus

[arlingtonpark]

SNK 122 Review

Finally the Marleyan and Eldian versions of history are reconciled. We see the real history for ourselves and what we learn is that the Marleyans were basically right.

You can all kiss my ass!

Look, I’m not going to mince words here: the official Marleyan history is that Ymir had a working relationship with “the devil” and together they subjugated the Marleyans.

That is exactly what happened. 

According to Eren’s grandfather, the relationship was more mutual; he described it as a contract. According to Kruger, the relationship was more one-sided; he describes Ymir in the Marleyan history as a pawn of the devil.

In any event, the devil was a real, albeit mythologized figure and Ymir worked with/under them. Is it unreasonable for the Marleyans for say this dude was the devil and leave it at that? 

Yeah, kind of, and they probably did it for propaganda reasons. But it’s not as unreasonable as you would think.

You’ve all heard of Jesus, right?

Jesus was a real person and we know that because he is mentioned in the Bible, which is in fact a historical document. Yes, the Bible says Jesus had magical powers (and that the world was created 7000 years ago) but so what? Ancient historical documents mix reality with mythology all the time. That’s the challenge of being a historian of antiquity, separating the facts from the myth.

That the Marleyan’s historical record claims this dude was the devil is not that out there.

Meanwhile, the official Eldian history is that Eldian rule was orgasmic.

It completely leaves out the raping and pillaging and other atrocities. It’s an incomplete picture. The Marleyan history is essentially the whole story.

Yes, Ymir really did cultivate the land, but this was only to the Eldian’s benefit. The Marleyan history does not contradict that. It emphasizes the atrocities, but it is implicit in the Marleyan account of history that the Eldians benefited from their dominance.

‘Cause, ya know, that’s how racism works. It’s not just a detriment to the oppressed, it benefits the oppressors.

It’s not even unreasonable to emphasize the atrocities, since they are, not to put too fine a point on it, atrocities. Building roads and bridges, by itself, is just not noteworthy. 

Why would any impartial history book mention that Ymir built roads outside of a few sentences, and even then, just to lay the ground work to explain how the Eldian Empire grew to be able to expand and conquer. 

The history of the world of SNK is first and foremost a story about a racist empire that murdered many people. 

Building roads and bridges? That’s not important. 

And as for the 1700 years of genocide, that is yet to be settled. That happened after Ymir’s death, and while we see that the Eldians conquered the world, we don’t see the details.

One thing that’s great about this chapter: many apologists for imperialism turn to excuses like how the colonialists built infrastructure and cultivated the land to justify imperialism. What SNK gets right is that the benefits of that cultivation were only enjoyed by the oppressors.

Yes, in the course of colonizing Africa, the Europeans built roads and crap, but that is a non-factor in the rightfulness of the imperialist project because those roads benefited the colonialists. And no one else.

Likewise, the benefits of Ymir’s work were only enjoyed by Eldians, which is why they remember her so fondly. Meanwhile, the Marleyans were victimized by Ymir, so they hate her.

What’s even better is that this could, maybe, hopefully, be read as a repudiation of Kruger’s dumbass line about the nature of truth.

There is truth in this world.

The Marleyan truth.

You hate to see it.

Frieda in this chapter is something of a tragic figure. She means well and just wants to give Historia some good advice, but she’s too drunk on the kool-aid to say anything helpful.

It’s true that we should all be thinking about others, but what’s been forgotten is love for ourselves in addition to love for others. A healthy relationship involves both of these things. You help people out, but always make sure to help yourself.

Ymir is literally the property of her master and is the equivalent of a tool to be used until it breaks. Her life is all about serving others. She bears the king’s children, fights the king’s enemies, and builds up the king’s empire. She was never allowed to love others, and she doesn’t even seem to have had any friends.

There’s no room for her to love herself, which is why this is a bad relationship.

You know, just to say the obvious.

One thing that’s great about SNK is that one of its morals is how bad it is to care too much about others. Caring too much, to the point you subordinate your own needs to someone else, is a kind of metaphorical enslavement.

Historia is the best example of that. Her whole character starting out was about self-sacrifice and caring about others. Her girlfriend thought she was a total idiot, and she was right.

There are other examples, though, like Mikasa gradually becoming less obsessive over Eren as the story goes on, or like the way the warriors serve Marley, which is a lot like a kind of slavery.

The series is characteristically blunt about it here, what with Ymir literally being a slave, but it’s a good moral and not an intuitive one.

The emptiness behind Frieda’s advice couldn’t be made more obvious here. As she expounds on how we need to be people who are helpful to others, we see are shown how her example, Ymir, is a literal slave. And towards the end of Frieda’s monologue, Ymir looks on at two lovers making out.

The contrast is clear. Give yourself over to others and being “loved” by them is not real love.

So this is Ymir Fritz, huh?

Another theme of this series is how lacking freedom limits your potential. Historia, once again, is a good example. Her over-caring was a burden on herself, and it kept her from truly becoming her own person. She’s in a much better place now that she’s move past that.

Eren is also kind of another example, but he’s like the incel version of it. Eren is “free” because he got swole and can just kick the ass of anyone who disagrees with him. Eren is what incel losers on Reddit dream of becoming. A chad.

He went from being a social loser to singlehandedly saving the world. From commonplace to world’s strongest. He's like the main character of an isekai anime. Pure vicarious pleasure for the stereotypical anime nerd.

Ymir is the encapsulation of this theme. She is basically a god, with incredible power. The only limit on her power is her imagination. Tragically, her imagination was so limited.

She has all this power, and she never thought to use it for herself. She used it for the king because she is his slave and that is her place in the world. She never thought otherwise.

Now Eren’s broken though to her and it looks like she and him are going to be partners in crime. Yay?

The themes of this series can be good, but there are still problems.

One theme is the inherent value of life. People deserve to live and it’s not because they possess any certain quality. People deserve to live because they are. They were born and they exist now.

Maybe their birth was mistake, but that’s ok, because people can give their own lives meaning. The meaning of life, according to SNK, is completely internal. It comes from within you.

Throughout the story, characters have devoted themselves to various things. Not all of them were bad things. Levi is devoted to Erwin. Mikasa is (was?) devoted to Eren. Armin was devoted to his dream of seeing the ocean. Rod was devoted to his belief in god.

They all tried to give meaning to their lives through external means.

But people like Historia, and, in kind of a bad way, Eren, are special because they try to find meaning through internal means.

That’s fine and all, but the problem is that Eren is the main character and his values and his example is what the series upholds.

Eren is a fighter and it’s clear he sees that as carte blanche to do whatever he thinks is right.

Killing children?

MORE LIKE FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM!!1

Insubordination?

FIGHTING FOR FREEDOM!!1

Pissing over his friends?

FREEDOM!!1

So, is human life inherently valuable or not?

The series tries to be about how lives matter, but also seemingly upholds this really stupid moral code where defending your own life can justify anything.

This isn’t even really a form of consequentialism. Consequentialists define goodness in terms of an action’s consequences. But, like, it’s the consequences for the world as a whole. Goodness is about what’s good for the world overall, not what’s good for me personally.

You can kill in self-defense, but there are limits. Violence should be proportionate and reasonable. And the killing itself should not be the point.

Killing most of the world is obviously not a net good for the world. Yes, the series makes humanity out to be depraved, but that’s bullshit because it is not true. People can be made to do awful or just plain stupid things by their environment, but the solution isn’t to just kill everyone.

They were born into this world, you see.

This is why there is a ten billion percent chance Eren will repudiate his way of thinking by the end of the series. Maybe as early as the next chapter. For the series to not do that would be hypocrisy.

There is no way the story is going to go with an ironic ending where Eren kills everyone and declares himself free while standing atop a pile of rubble.

SNK has employed dramatic irony before, but it has always been straightforward with its main themes. It would not resort to irony here; that would just muddle the message even more.

At this point the series is just mocking Historia fans. Ymir Fritz is also forced into pregnancy and even sits in a wooden chair just like Historia.

But I think this is actually a reason to be hopeful. This is an implicit acknowledgement of how fucking shitty Historia’s nominal situation is.

Ymir is forced to bear children and that is a manifestation of her enslavement. Historia is therefore also a slave by the story’s logic. And since this is a story about breaking free from your enslavement, Historia can only do just that and rain hellfire on the world like how Ymir Fritz seems poised to do here.

…Please?

I don’t know if this was intentional or not, but I love how they throw in a radical feminist take on Ymir Fritz’s life.

Ymir was always thinking about others, and that made her girlish, ie is an obedient slave.

Respect.

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk 122 #snk chapter 122

[parabuttai]

In All Things

aka the coffee shop, jurdan au I wrote in a hungover haze 

It’s a muggy, autumn day when their parents die. Jude didn’t see it happen, she was in the café playing hide and seek behind the sofa with her twin sister Taryn while Vivi, the oldest, painstakingly painted her nails a brilliant shade of red and kept a lenient eye on the pair of them.  The café was her parents pride and Jude loved everything about it, from the red, leather chairs smattered comfortably around the room, to the whipped cream covered hot chocolate her dad snuck to her and sisters when he thought mum wasn’t looking. She didn’t it happen, but she does see the tall man, in a black suit with a red pocket square enter, disregarding the “closed” sign on the door entirely.  His name is Madoc and he’s a lawyer.  Jude doesn’t really know what a lawyer is.  The one time she asked her mum left her know clearer.  What she does know is that he is also Vivi’s birth father, although her sister has only ever called their dad by that term.  They see him every so often at Christmas and Thanksgiving with his wife, Oriana. Today, he tells them that their parents are dead, and then he takes everything.

She can’t even hate him for it, not really.  Legally the rights to all the recipes, all the protocols, even the deal of the day sign, which Jude’s mother painstakingly painted belong to the Greenbriar’s and their lawyer Madoc is simply the tool by which they have claimed them.  The Greenbriar family owns the Greenbriar franchise which stretches across America in a multitude of coffee shops and cosy cafes, just like the one lovingly owned by their parents.  As soon as her parents are dead Madoc swoops in with a team of lawyers to reclaim the property and get it up and running under new management.   As well as taking the café he takes all the children in, his heir and her scrawny half- siblings.  Vivi sits in the front of his black BMW sober faced and silent but Jude and Taryn cry the whole way to their new home.  That night, when Jude’s curled up in bed, listening to the even sound of Taryn’s breathing from the twin bed across the room she imagines the crash, imagines Madoc’s face behind the wheel of the oncoming vehicle.   In her heart of hearts she knows that he wasn’t the one responsible for the crash, that he wasn’t anywhere near the intersection of the day a stupid kid was too busy looking at his phone to realise that he had swerved into the oncoming traffic.  Still, that didn’t make the sight of the heavy metal lettering spelling out “Duarte’s Café”, lovingly carved by her father’s hand being unceremoniously ripped from the space above the café and replaced by the cold, corporate logo of Greenbriar an any less bitter pill to swallow.  Nor does it make the big, busy town house feel any more like a home.  Slowly though, Jude adjusts to her new life.  Madoc and his pale wife Oriana are kind in their own stilted way and their son Oak has such a boundless enthusiasm for the arrival of three, new sisters that it makes it hard for Jude to resent the willingness with which she was taken into their family.

Vivi, however, finds no such peace.  She is a thundering torrent of range and resentment and as the years past her anger hones itself into something sharp and brutal. She screams and throws things, delighting in smashing whatever she can lay her hands on.  In desperation Madoc and Oriana send her to a fancy boarding school in the hopes that a new scene will assuage her anger but it takes only a month before she is sent home from the prestigious school and asked never to return there again.  Over the years her screams quieten and she stops smashing things, but Jude can sense the anger in her, bottled tight just beneath the surface.  It’s something of a relief when she arrives at dinner one evening, suitcase in hand, and announces she’s moving across town to live with her girlfriend Heather.  Taryn cries herself to sleep that night, rocked in Jude’s embrace until she falls into a fitful sleep.  It’s only her twin’s tears that stain Jude’s skin that night though, although she feel’s Vivi’s absence like the loss of a limb. The next morning she goes to Madoc and requests a job in the café.  He is inscrutable as he looks at her and although she gazes calmly back at him she wonders if he can sense the loss, the panic that crawls beneath her skin like a living breathing thing. Whether he can sense that she is unravelling like so many threads from a worn tapestry and she has no way to stitch herself back together. That is he says no it is she who will be lost next.   He says yes.

He puts her to work scrubbing dishes in the back with water so hot it scalds her hands and leaves her nails cracked and peeling. But although her hands are sore her heart is lighter than it’s been for several years and soon he is showing her how to balance multiple cups on her arm and the best way to tell when the milk is sufficiently heated to pour into a cappuccino. He has one of the chefs teach her how to make scones so soft they melt in your mouth and allows her to try her hand at painting the day’s deals onto the sign.  Her breathing is shaky, but her hand is steady and when she wipes a paint, splattered hand across her forehead and surveys her work she thinks that this might be enough.

However, although the work sooths her heart and sooths her soul, her colleagues do not.  Their waitress, Nicasia is a vain, self-absorbed girl with a tongue as sharp as the fresh marmalade they serve with the butter biscuits. Her mother is a world famous beautician who has little time for her only daughter apart from to offer criticisms disguised as complements, an art that Nicasia has also perfected.  She is accompanied by thuggish Valerian, who delights in violence and makes a habit of pinching at Jude when she’s carrying plates causing her to smash them on the ground until Jude viciously salts every meal he brings to work and he is forced to halt his campaign or go permanently hungry.  Worst of all is the manager, Cardan, a younger son of the Greenbriar family and is in charge of overseeing the establishment.  Cardan delights in sly taunts and makes it his mission to make Jude’s time there as miserable as possible.   He sneers as she makes cups of coffee and carries plates and does nothing to stop the constant digs that Nicasia and Valerian send her way.  He is not violent towards her like they are, preferring to make her uncomfortable by pinning her with his disconcerting gaze when she is working or giving her cups of coffee with insults scrawled on the takeaway cups. “Excruciating, alarming distressing,” each one an intelligent protest at her presence.  She smiles and drinks the coffee anyway and doesn’t let herself show the shame she feels.  He smiles a knowing smile, as though its written on her face anyway.

She doesn’t know what she’s done to earn his wrath, but he makes it clear that her very presence is an offence to him.

“You don’t belong here, Jude” he tells her pleasantly one day as though remarking on the weather.  “I don’t know why you don’t just give it up and go somewhere else.”  Jude stops still as though he has slapped her and at once, she is eight again and her parents are dead, and the café they made is dead with them.  

“I belong here every bit as much as you,” she hisses with as much venom as she can muster and Cardan blinks once, before grinning a lazy, cat like smile and sauntering off to take a waiting customer’s order.

She hates him.

Then they get a new recruit and she thinks her luck might be changing.  Locke is charming and handsome and seems genuinely interested in her. He makes her feel like a character from a story book, showering her with complements.  They stay up late together one night, drinking a cheap bottle of wine she borrows from Vivi and watching the stars.  Locke tells her the stories of the constellations, some so outlandish Jude is half sure he is making them up.  His lips are stained dark purple when he kisses her and she almost thinks she’s in love.  Turns out it’s not her he wants, but her sister.  They have been seeing each other too, Taryn confesses tearfully one day. She stands before the counter in the café, holding hands with Locke who is smirking while Valerian and Nicasia howl with laughter.  Jude’s eyes stare numbly at their intertwined hands and thinks of wine stains and stars and the memory turns to ash in her mouth.  Before she can lose any more of her dignity she sinks into one of the stools at the counter, pointedly ignoring Taryn until she finally leaves.  Strangely, Cardan has been strangely silent as the pantomime plays itself out.  A large group enters and he sends Nicasia to take their drink orders uttering his first words since Taryn had burst through the door with Locke in tow.  Valerian is summoned to fix an order that should have been tuna salad, but somehow ended up with cheese and then she is alone with Cardan. She cannot look at him, but she also cannot summon the energy to move.  Maybe if she sits there long enough she’ll be left alone until the end of her shift.  Maybe she’ll be fired.  She cannot bring herself to care.

 “Here.” It’s Cardan, he’s standing on the other side of the counter from her, cup of coffee in hand.  She can see the grinds at the bottom of the coffee machine and knows he has made it fresh.  Carefully, he slides the takeaway cup across the counter towards where she is slumped. The rich scent of coffee drifts pleasantly from inside. “I don’t need a cup of coffee,” Jude snaps angrily, shoving it roughly back towards him, unable to care about the dark scowl she can feel forming on her own face.  “What does it say this time, huh?  Disturbing, warped, fucking awful?  I’m not in the mood for any of your crap at the moment.”

“Just take it, little ant” sighs Cardan.  His face is carefully unreadable as he reaches across the counter and puts his hand on her clenched fist, pressing against where her fingers curled tightly around her thumb.  She is so startled by the touch of his hand on hers that she jerks back, fingers spreading as she recoils away from the warmth of his skin.  Before she can fully process what was happening he had placed the coffee cup into her hands, squeezing securely on top of her own hands as though he is afraid if he lets go she might hurl the cup back across the counter top like some insolent goblin.  Jude feels herself swallowing the insult on the tip of her tongue as the weight of those hands settle over her, almost like a comforting hug and for a moment she feels that small, bitter part of her heart that has been rising up as she thinks of Locke and Taryn twists.  Just as suddenly, his hands are gone, leaving her feeling cold despite the heating that warms the room.  “Take it and go home, Jude.” He says, his tone bored.  

“I can’t go home, I’ve still got another four hours left before I clock out.” She retorts, feeling unsettled at his sudden change in tone and manner.

“I’m the manager, remember?” He says archly, tapping on the badge affixed just under his right shirt collar.  “Get out of here.  I don’t need you in here snapping at the customers and driving off business with your star crossed woes.”

“Like you need any help scaring off customers with your attitude,” says Jude with a role of her eyes, relieved to find that she sounds harsh rather than sad. But she can’t stand the thought of finishing off the shift while Nicasia and Valerian titter over her pathetic love life so the offer is too good to be rejected, even if it has come from him.  “Thanks,” she mutters awkwardly at last, scuffing the tip of one of her converses on the floor as she hops down from the stool, adjusting her skirt with one hand while the other twisted the cup around to read the word “unique” scrawled in a familiar hand over the list of allergens.  She imagines him saying it, imagines his mouth drawing out each syllable but her body does not fill with the familiar flush of shame that normally accompanies his reminders that she doesn’t belong here.  “A little out of tune with your other jabs?” She says with her eyebrows raised.

Cardan does not deign to reply.  He has already turned his back to her to wipe down the nozzle of the steamer and acts as though the whole interaction hasn’t taken place, isn’t still taking place. Taking the hint, Jude strides towards the exit, cupping the drink tightly in her hands as she steps outside into the bite of the cold, winter air.  And if she tells herself the tingling in her hands is from the warmth of the coffee, nothing more, then that’s that.  There’s nothing more to it. Unconsciously, she lets her fingers trace the fine cursive lettering which runs down the side of the cup all the way home.  

Jude doesn’t see much of Cardan over the next few days.  She’s not scheduled to work at the café over the weekend so she spends most of her time avoiding Taryn, a job made easier by the fact that Taryn seems determined to avoid her too.  But eventually, it’s time for her to return to work.  She spends the day studiously avoiding Cardan’s gaze, determined When her back is turned she can feel dark eyes watching her.  The day is slow, and when night falls Cardan dismisses the rest of the staff claiming that he can deal with the last few customers on his own.  Jude is the last to leave, the sleeve of her coat is trapped in the locker and she is still struggling to remove it when Cardan comes in to the small cloakroom.

“Jude!” He exclaims. His eyes are wide and he looks briefly childlike in the half dark room as he stares at her in surprise.  Then, he gathers himself and the look is gone. She can almost see the shutters falling in his eyes.  “I thought you had left.” He says and it’s a statement, but it’s also a question and Jude finds herself wanting to answer even though she’s not sure what he’s really asking.  

She settles for “my coat’s stuck.”  Gesturing lamely to where the offending item of clothing is hanging limply.  He looks at her blankly.  

“Well then get it out,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  “I’ve never known you to be set back by something as trivial as a stuck piece of cloakroom equipment.  Are you sick?”  Jude rolls her eyes but at the same time she feels something warm settle in her stomach. Although his tone is acerbic Cardan has as good as offered her a complement.  

“I’m getting to it, your majesty.” She shrugs sarcastically.  She realises she’s made a mistake at once when he grins.

“Your majesty,” he pretends to ponder it, eyes glittering wickedly in the dim light.  “I like it.  I think I’ll make it my official title.  Much more fitting than manager.”

“I agree,” she snipes. “Manager implies you actually manage things here. Majesty is much more fitting for someone who sits around all day letting others do all the work.”

“Why would I want to manage anything when I’ve got you rushing around and making sure nothing falls apart?” He laughs.  “Far more entertaining for me to sit around and gossip with the regulars, although I don’t know why you put so much work into this place, you’re the only person here who cares about this dump.”

Jude bristles.  “This dump,” she snarls, “used to be something great, something precious, and I don’t want to see that go just because some spoilt brat can’t be bothered to manage it properly.”  She is so incensed she has her hand half raised to slap him before she regains control of herself.  He is staring at her, eyes wide at the outburst and his eyes flicker to her hand. She realises he is afraid she is going to hit him and she lets it drop limply to the side.   She’s better than that.  

To her surprise Cardan doesn’t start shouting, doesn’t leave.  He runs his hand through his dark hair, letting out a huff of air.

“I’m sorry,” he says and she feels her jaw drop.  “I always do this with you.  I can’t say the right thing, be nice, be better and so I say the worst possible thing instead.”  Jude regards him wearily but he continues.  

“I meant that you’re a great employee the place would be falling apart without you.”  The words fall heavily from his lips and he is staring at her, his eyes dark, and normally she would resent that stare but it feels different now.  She can tell it has cost him greatly to admit this to her, can see in his eyes that he is waiting for her to strike back now he has laid this out for her, now he has made himself vulnerable.  But she is no longer angry, and he seems to be able to read that in her face as the tension flows out of him.  

“You mean you think I’m better than Nicasia and Valerian?” She is unable to stop the question from flowing from her lips but he doesn’t pounce on it the way she expects.  Instead he shakes his head, laughter in his eyes and she imagines him sneering “you, better?  You barely belong.”

Instead he surprises her again by saying “you’re the best employee here.”  She looks at him suspiciously, but he seems sincere. Rather than push the cat and mouse game any further she returns to the loosening of her coat, deciding to ignore Cardan completely.  However, he stretches up his arms and his shirt, loose from the day’s work, rides up out of his pants revealing the hint of a tattoo on his left hipbone.

“Is that, a tail?” Jude gasps, reaching unthinkingly out to run her fingers over the sinuous, dark shape she can see peeking out over the top of his waistband.  

“It’s not a tail.” Cardan drawls, making no move to push her away.  “It’s an ouroboros, a symbol that dates back to the ancient Egyptians.”  

“You have a tail!” Crows Jude delightedly, ignoring his explanation in favour of examining the tattoo in more detail.  At a distance it looks a little like a circle but as she bends her head to inspect it more closely she can make out the fine, scaled pattern that runs through the length of it.  “I always said you were beastly, now I have the proof!”  As she speaks, she prods him firmly in the chest and turns to look at his face.  Her laughter stops abruptly.  Suddenly she realises just how close she has come, realises that her hand still lingers on his bare chest, how close they are together.   His eyes, always dark, are like pools of midnight as he stares down at her and she barely managed to supress a shiver. If Cardan is a beast, then he was one with sharp claws and wicked teeth and he wants to swallow her whole.

“By all means, continue your molestations,” he smirks “don’t mind me.  I’ll just stand here while you accost my personage.”  

“I’d like to see you spell personage,” mutters Jude, withdrawing her hand reluctantly from his firm chest.

“What was that, dearest one?” Cardan’s grin is mischievous as he continues to lean rakishly across the wall of lockers so that his stomach remains exposed.  He carelessly unbuttons one cuff, deliberately leaving the front of the shirt untucked as he continues to smile wolfishly at Jude.  Jude stares back, determined not to let him see how flustered she is by his naked flesh or the moment of intimacy they had just shared. She is satisfied to see him blink at her own, pointed look and he shuffles slightly on his feet, his abdomen tensing as he moves.  He doesn’t look away from her though, even as he starts to slowly tuck the shirt back into his pants.

“Don’t.”  For a split second Jude wonders if perhaps someone else has entered the small storage space and spoken.  Maybe Taryn has come to find her and has wondered in after them. Maybe she is going mad and have started to hallucinate.  Then the realisation that it was her own, treacherous mouth which had uttered the word sinks in.  She is startled to realise she doesn’t regret it.  That she is relieved she had said it.  The magnetic force that draws them together is pulling her down and there was only one way to assuage its demanding pressure.

“Don’t what, exactly?” Cardan asks and Jude is relieved to see that despite the levity in his tone his grin falters briefly at her word.  It is that, perhaps, more than anything else that gives her the courage to step forward and place her hands over his own, stilling them over his belt.

“I said,” she murmurs, leaning in so close that she can feel the force of his breath against her cheek. “Don’t, do that.” Her heart is pounding fast in her chest and she imagines that, if only she listened closely enough, she might hear Cardan’s heart beating ferociously in a matching, unrelenting rhythm with her own.  

“Jude.”  He whispers her name so quietly, so reverently that she isn’t sure she heard him.  Isn’t sure he’d even meant to say it aloud. There is something so heavy in the word that for a moment she feels her bravado fading leaving behind a crushing shyness that makes her want to flee, but even as her name falls from Cardan’s lips, he is lowering his face towards her and carefully, pointedly, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.  Any thought of flight flees from her mind after that.  Despite his harshness, his kiss is soft, softer even than the sound of her name on his tongue and it is all Jude can do to stop herself from sinking into the feeling of him kissing her.  All thoughts of the Locke, of her sister’s betrayal leave her mind as he tentatively cups her face in his hands, deepening the kiss until the only thing she can do with any sense of certainty is kiss him back.  She does just that, snaking her hands under the bottom of his shirt to feel the heat radiating through his body as she offers hungry, greedy kisses of her own.  Finally, when she thought she was ready to burst from the lush, heady sensation of kiss he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes wine dark.

“What was that you said before about molesting?” She gasps and he lets out a sharp bark of laughter. He is breathing heavily against her and he grins broadly so the tips of his teeth glint in the light.

“That was hardly molestation, my little ant.  That was a full on debauching.” Cardan stretches out his arm and pulls her in an unwieldly motion so that she staggers to rest fully atop him.  If he releases her she will fall.  “I am a branch, swaying in the wake of your storm.  Have mercy, or I will be felled beneath your tempestuous whims.”  Jude laughs at the ridiculousness of the statement, at the ridiculousness of them. But as he kisses her again in the cloakroom of her parent’s café, she can’t help feeling like perhaps, just maybe she is home.

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #jurdan #holly black #jurdan fic #lmao

[eternalnight8806-3]

Ch 1. The Cat and the Fox

Here’s another chapter fic for you guys!

@keichanz @noviceotakus-blog

Also available on AO3 and ff.net

Category: Romance, Modern College AU

Rating: Will be Explicit but for now I’ll just say Mature for language and drinking

Words: 4,541

Backstory on my universe: Humans know of the existence of demons, but they don't usually intermingle. Demons keep to themselves in their own areas of the world and humans do the same. Hanyou children are practically unheard of, though 1 or 2 will be born every hundred years or so. They are treated as less than by the demon community and with fear from the humans. Neither world truly accepts them. InuYasha lives amongst humans because his mother, Izayoi, was human. He often wears a hat or something of the like to hide his ears from humans. They always treat him with disdain when they learn what he is. The only person other than his mother to treat him well is Miroku, his childhood friend. His father died shortly after his birth, but no one knows exactly what happened to the InuTaisho. Izayoi died when InuYasha was 17. He is now 20 and attending human university studying culinary arts. He loves food and he figured if no one knew a hanyou was making their food then they couldn't complain. He lives in a frat house under scholarship.

Please let me know what you guys think!

“Miroku, this is by far the stupidest thing you've ever convinced me to do.” InuYasha stated as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wore a well fitted long tailed black tuxedo complete with red cummerbund and bowtie. A red lace fox type mask covered his face but accentuated his deep amber eyes. His waist long white-silver hair hung loosely.

Miroku walked by and gently flicked one of InuYasha's white dog ears atop his head. “Quit complaining. You have to stop hiding up here every time the house hosts a fucking party, dude. If you're going to be a brother, you have to do brother stuff. That includes this masquerade Halloween party.”

A loud thunk could be heard reverberating throughout the room as InuYasha smacked Miroku across the back of his head. “You know I can't fucking stand it when you touch my ears, asshole.”

Miroku rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah. Just quit whining. It's going to be more fun than you think. Just wait and see!” Miroku winked at his friend as he grabbed his own Phantom of the Opera style mask off of his dresser and slipped it on his face. “How do I look?” He asked as he did an overly dramatic twirl.

“Fucking stupid.” InuYasha grumbled. He looked down at his own feet, covered with brand new dress shoes he had somehow been conned into buying. “These fucking shoes pinch my feet. I ain't wearing 'em.” With that, he flicked each one off of his foot and threw them towards Miroku's half of their shared room.

Miroku just shook his head at his friend. “Suit yourself. But you're not getting out of going. You better be down in five minutes or upperclassman Kuno will have both our asses.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he said as Miroku walked out of the room to join the party that was already in full swing downstairs.

Taking one last look at himself in the mirror, InuYasha sighed. He wiggled his toes on the hardwood floor, enjoying the freedom of not having the restrictive shoes. Never in his life had he worn anything other than flip flops when he wore shoes at all. Absolutely refusing to put the dress shoes back on, InuYasha said a quiet “Fuck it,” to himself as he stormed out of the room barefoot to join his frat brothers and their stupid party.

“Sango, I don't know how you talked me into this outfit.”

Sango side eyed her best friend in the passenger seat of her car. “Kagome, you look smoking. Every guy will love it.”

“Well yeah! Only because it's so tight I can't breathe!” She fiddled with the drawstring on the corset of her skin tight faux leather catwoman costume.

“Kagome, we're in college now. We're supposed to wear sexy Halloween costumes to dumb parties!”

Kagome pouted in her seat. She knew her friend was just trying to help her have fun and try new things, but this outfit made her extremely uncomfortable. It was so low cut she might as well not have a top on in her opinion. The drawstring in the front didn't really function to hold it closed, but more to draw more attention to her breasts. The pants did make her ass look good, she could admit that much, but she was afraid if she sat down she'd bust a seam. The only things about the costume she didn't mind were the simple black face mask and cute cat ears.  “Fine. But if my ass comes out of these pants you're going to regret making me buy this.”

Sango laughed. “Fair enough,” she said as she pulled into the parking lot nearest the most infamous party frat on Shikon University's property, B.E.W. She pulled out the final piece of her own costume, a thin light pink cloth eye mask and put it on. Looking over at Kagome she inquired, “How do I look?”

Kagome sized her up. The girl wore a tight fitting black sexy ninja costume. Her own top was cut lower than Kagome's, showing off her ample assets. A pink sash adorned her slim waist, holding her fake sword in place. She had to admit she looked damn good. “Amazing,” she answered honestly.

Smiling, Sango opened her door and yelled, “Let's do this shit!” as she climbed out. Kagome shook her head at her friend and opened her own door to follow.

An hour later, Kagome was completely trashed. Sango had thrust cup after cup of beer in her hand, determined to get her friend as drunk as possible. But now Kagome hadn't seen Sango in atleast 20 minutes, ever since one of the frat boys in a Phantom of the Opera mask had asked her to dance with him. Stumbling in her stiletto heals, Kagome found herself firmly planted into someone's very hard back.

“What the fu-” InuYasha turned just in time to see an obviously drunk girl start to fall backwards. He reached out reflexively and wrapped the girl up in his arms. A moment passed where he simply held her to his chest before he looked down at her. His breath hitched in his throat when chocolate eyes met his own. Even through her face mask and his drunken stupor, he knew this girl was beautiful. “You ok?” he asked her.

Smiling up at the man who had kept her from unceremoniously falling on her stupidly drunk ass, Kagome nodded. She was enamored with the effort this guy had put into his costume. The long white wig, the absolutely adorable white ears on his head, and the enchanting amber contacts that she couldn't stop staring at.  

InuYasha slowly let the girl go, making sure she was steady on her feet. A worried frown crossed his features. This girl was beyond incapable of getting home safely and he didn't see anyone around who seemed to be with her. Had she been stupid enough to come to a party alone?  “Hey, you alone?” He asked her, gruffly.

Kagome had been busy staring at his bare feet. She wondered where his shoes had gone. Slowly, she looked back up into those gorgeous eyes. Some of the fogginess cleared from her brain and she realized he'd asked her a question. “Hmm?”

InuYasha was a bit foggy himself, having drank half a keg in order to stand being around this many people at once. It took him a moment to register that she hadn't heard him. “Did you come with someone?” His ears twitched slightly, trying to hear only her above all the party noise.

She nodded, lazily, but didn't speak. Her eyes were glued to the top of his head, watching his ears. She could have sworn they had just moved. Shaking her head slightly, she told herself she was just way too drunk at the moment.

Growing irritated with the girl, InuYasha waved his hand in front of her face. “Hey, do you need help finding them or somethin'?”

Kagome giggled and swayed on her feet. “She's a ninja!” she managed to say between bursts of laughter. “You'll never find her!”

Shaking his head, InuYasha put his drink down and took the girls' hand in his own. He knew he would feel guilty as hell if he just left her alone. His mother had taught him better than that. “C'mon. Lets get you some water and try to find your ninja.”

A shock went through her hand when this man grabbed hers. Secretly, she wondered if he felt it too. She allowed him to lead her upstairs and into a bedroom, presumably his own. Dropping her hand, he went to a small mini fridge in the corner and took out a bottle of water and handed it to her. Taking it from him, she looked around the room nervously.

Seeing her discomfort, InuYasha worked to quell her fears, “I promise I ain't gonna hurt ya or nothin'. The kitchen's just nothing but beer and dumbshits right now.”

Kagome nodded once and opened the water to take a sip. She watched the man slump down on the bed in the far corner of the room and tuck his feet under himself. Unconsciously, she walked over and sat next to him. She didn't notice when her hand brushed his thigh on her way down.

InuYasha gulped when her hand trailed over his thigh. His eyes turned her way as she sat next to him, seemingly unaware of what she had done. Clearing his throat, he tried to break the tension, “So, catwoman, huh?”

Kagome looked down at herself and the costume Sango had picked out for her. She snorted. “My friend made me.”

InuYasha looked fully at her this time and smiled. “Yeah, mine too,” he said as he gestured to his own outfit.

“Oh, I think it's adorable!” Kagome exclaimed. “What an awesome fox you make!” She flashed him her own smile.

“Keh.” He decided to let her think it was a costume. That was the point afterall. “Not as good as yours,” he said, trying to pull the focus away from himself. Though he was finding it strangely easy to talk to this girl.

The pair sat like that for a long while, talking about themselves, though strangely never telling eachother their names. Somehow, it never came up. Kagome told him of leading a sheltered life as a private school girl. Her father had died when she was young but he had left her family with enough money to allow both her and her brother to get the education he thought they should have. She informed him she was studying to become a teacher.

InuYasha told her of losing his mother 3 years ago and the fact that he didn't really fit in anywhere. However, he did not tell her why. They talked about his culinary arts major and his love of food. Almost any food to be honest. InuYasha was not picky by nature. They spoke of his love of the outdoors and how if he could he would sleep outside every night. She told him she'd love to see the stars without all the light pollution the city had. Secretly, he knew a place they could go for such a pleasure, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her that.

Time passed quickly and not even InuYasha noticed when the noise downstairs started to fade. He was so enamored with this girl. Never would he know what caused him to have the courage to ask her what he asked her next. “Hey, do ya think I could have your number?” Panicking immediately at what had come out of his mouth, he tried to back peddle slightly, “Um, just so I know you're ok tomorrow and everything?”

Silently, she held her hand out for his phone, smiling at him. He watched her in awe as she typed her number into his phone. She handed it back to him just as an extremely drunk Sango stumbled into the room.

“There you are!” she shouted. InuYasha flattened his ears to the screeching. “I've been looking everywhere for you!” Kagome stood and went to support her friend, herself being almost sober at this point. She gave InuYasha an apologetic look as she wrapped her friend's arm around her shoulder and began to help her downstairs.

InuYasha didn't miss that her friend had indeed been wearing a ninja costume. He chuckled quietly as he got up to rid himself of the stupid clothes and mask. He fell back down on to his bed face first and quickly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of deep brown eyes and a beautiful smile.

The next morning, InuYasha awoke with a pounding headache. The light streaming in through the window was making him want to curse the sun's existence. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed his aching head. He noticed that Miroku had fallen into bed fully clothed at some point in the night. Shaking his head at his friend, he moved to get up when memories from the night before came flooding back to him.

The image of chocolate brown eyes and perfectly pouty lips assailed him. Forgetting his pounding head for the moment, InuYasha sat there and thought about the events of the previous night. This girl had willed things out of him with so much ease. She had seemed comfortable in his presence. He, the master of few words, had spoken to her for literal hours and not once had he become bored or felt like he was annoying her. That's when the last few moments they spent together hit him like a tanker truck. She had given him her number!

With speed only he could muster, InuYasha reached for his phone and quickly unlocked it. It was still on the page that she had entered her number on. She hadn't saved it, but luckily his phone hadn't died overnight. He also noticed she hadn't put in a name. Shrugging, he quickly filled in “Catwoman” in the name slot and clicked the save button.

Seeing it was well after noon, he decided it was safe to check on her and her friend. He typed a quick message to her.

Hope you and your drunk ninja made it home ok

He sat the phone back on his nightstand and went about his normal morning routine, with the addition of pounding back half a dozen Tylenol to stave off his hangover headache. Since no one else was awake, he moved at lightning speed getting himself cleaned up and ready for the day, including piling his hair into a messy bun over his ears and planting a red beanie on his head. All the frat brothers know about him being a hanyou, but he didn't know who had crashed here after the party. He didn't need that drama.

The frat brothers had initially not wanted InuYasha in with them, but Miroku coaxed them into it. It had taken him over a year but he finally felt like most of them didn't absolutely hate his guts. Miroku was still the only one he could call a friend, but the others were starting to atleast try.

Coming back into his bedroom, he noticed a text message notification. He picked up his phone and saw it was from the mysterious Catwoman.

All safe. She's still passed out. The sun woke me up along with the worst headache of my life. I'm never going to drink again.

Letting out a rumbling laugh, he typed out a reply.

Yeah. Me too. I can't believe we let our friends talk us into this bullshit

On the other side of campus, Kagome smiled when she saw her mystery savior had replied to her message. She had nicknamed him “Foxy” both in her head and in her phone. Both because of his fox costume and because she just knew he would be. Smiling at his reply, she thought about what to say next to him.

Thanks for taking care of me last night. I was a real mess. Sorry about that.

His reply was almost instant.

Don't mention it. I've dealt with much worse

She quirked an eyebrow.

Oh yeah?

Yeah. My asshole best friend likes to get so drunk he can't stand every other night. I've seen everything from him blubbering like a baby to him puking all over my feet.

A few moments passed and she received another message from Foxy.

Sorry. That was probably too much.

Sango began to stir in the bed across from her. Kagome typed quickly.

Not at all. But my friend is starting to wake up finally and I'm probably going to have to hold her hair all day. See you!

She didn't have to wait long for a reply.

Have her drink lots of water and aspirin. I hear it helps. Glad you guys are ok.

Putting her phone back down on the nightstand, Kagome went over to check on Sango.

“Owwwwwww.” Sango mumbled as she slowly sat up. Rubbing her temples with both her hands she asked, “What the hell happened last night?”

Kagome sat next to her and handed her a glass of water and two aspirin. “Well, you abandoned me to dance with a frat boy and I slept with the first guy I bumped into.”

Sango's head whipped around so fast that Kagome could have sworn she heard the swoosh of the wind it made. “You did what?!?!”

Kagome burst out laughing and immediately regretted it. Clutching her head in her hand, she replied, “No, Sango. Of course not. Though I did talk to one for a while.”

Sango breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ Kagome. You about gave me a heart attack.”

Smiling at her friend, Kagome said “Sorry. I had to pay you back for abandoning me somehow.”

A look of remorse crossed her friend's features. “Damn, Kagome. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear.”

“I know you didn't. It's ok. I forgive you. Did you have fun, atleast?”

Nodding, Sango lifted her phone from its place on her nightstand and opened it. Kagome watched as she flipped through a few pictures before settling on one to show her. Looking at the offered picture, Kagome noticed that the Phantom frat boy had taken his mask off. He had semi short black hair tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Two gold hoop earrings adorned his left ear and one his right. He had dark, kind looking eyes. “He's cute.” Kagome stated, truthfully.

Pulling her phone away, Sango nodded. “Yeah, he is. His name's Miroku. But god he's so handsy.”

Kagome giggled. “And that's a problem for you why exactly?”

Sango shouldered her friend. “Hey! I'm not that bad.”

“Uh huh.”

Sango glowered playfully. “Did you have fun?”

Kagome nodded. “Yeah. I really did spend most of the night talking to a guy.”

Sango raised an eyebrow. “Did you now?”

“Don't act so surprised!”

Raising a hand in mock defeat, “Hey, if the shoe fits...”

“Sango I swear!”

Laughter was her only response for a moment. “So, did you and mystery guy do more than talk?” She waggled her eyebrows.

Slapping her friend lightly, “No! I did give him my number though. He texted me earlier to make sure we made it home ok.”

“Ooo. He sounds sweet, Kagome. He got a name?”

“Foxy.”

A puzzled look crossed her friend's face. “Foxy?”

Kagome played with the end of her hair, nervously. “We never actually exchanged names. He was dressed like a fox so I nicknamed him Foxy.”

“How did you never get his name?”

Shrugging, “I don't know. It just never came up. We talked about pretty much everything else, though. He's a culinary arts major.”

“A guy that can cook. Good choice! Though you might want to know his name.”

“I don't even know what he really looks like. His costume was super elaborate. He had a wig and contacts even.”

“Wow. Commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe you guys can meet in the light of day.”

“I don't know, Sango. We were both pretty drunk. He may not like what he sees sober.”

Sango's eyes rolled. “You're hot, Kagome. But whatever. Suit yourself.” She stood and stretched. “I'm gonna go shower.”

“K.” Kagome watched her friend grab her shower caddy and bathrobe and exit their dorm room before she stood and went to pick up her phone again. Her finger hovered over the message app for a solid minute before finally working up the courage to type.

My friend's all good. How's yours?

InuYasha pulled his phone from his back pocket when he felt it vibrate while stirring his pot of ramen with his other hand. Yeah, he was a culinary arts major, but he was still a poor college student and the stuff was actually pretty damn good. Smiling to himself upon seeing that Catwoman had texted him, he quickly opened the message and read it.

Not awake yet. Probably gonna sleep all fucking day. Lazy bastard.

Lol. That's not very nice.

What can I say? I'm blunt.

An honorable quality. Hey, I have a question for you if that's ok?

Shoot.

He turned off the stove and took the giant pot of ramen to the couch with a fork and proceeded to dig in wholeheartedly.

Why were you so nice to me last night? Most guys would've tried to... you know.

Chuckling at her obvious innocence he typed one handed.

No. Please tell me what most guys would've done? ;)

I'm glowering at you right now, you jerk.

What? I'm not the one who can't say the words tried to fuck my brains out.

A series of emojis were his reply, most of which relayed shock and anger.

Lol. Sorry. I was just messing with ya. Mostly it's cause of my mom. She taught me to help people in need if I can.

I'm really sorry she died. She sounds like a really good mom.

InuYasha stood and went to go put his empty ramen pot in the sink.

She was. I really miss her.

A loud kerthunk from upstairs made InuYasha sigh loudly.

I think my room mate just fell out of bed. Gotta go. TTYL?

Look forward to it. Hope your room mate is ok. :)

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, InuYasha took the stairs two at a time back up to his room. He was met with the sight of Miroku attempting to stand and falling right back down on his ass. Rolling his eyes, InuYasha went over and offered his hand to the fumbling man. Miroku looked up and grabbed the offered hand, pulling himself up slowly. He rubbed his head and yawned before asking, “What happened to you last night?”

InuYasha's face blushed slightly. “I, uh, was helpin' someone.”

Miroku took notice of his friend's flushed face and smirked. “Oh yeah? And how did you help them exactly?”

“She was drunk off her ass and alone. Didn't feel right leaving her.”

“Oh! A damsel in distress! Do tell, InuYasha.” Miroku plopped unceremoniously back down on his bed.

“Ain't nothin' to tell. I gave her water. We talked. Her friend showed up and they left. End of story.”

“Oh come now, InuYasha. Surely there is more to it than that?”

A long pause reverberated through the room before he received an answer. “Well, she did give me her number...”

A knowing smile spread across Miroku's face. “And does this damsel have a name?”

“Yeah.”

“Well? What is it?”

“Dunno.”

Miroku narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means I don't know, dumbass. She never told me.”

“You mean you talked to this girl for a period of time, and she gave you her number, but not her name?”

“Yep.”

Miroku sighed. “Well, I suppose you can always ask her later.”

“I guess... just seems kinda awkward now, though.”

Shaking his head at his friend, Miroku changed the subject. “I however, met an angel last night. She's the perfect woman, InuYasha.”

“You say that about every woman, pervert.”

“No, man. I mean it. She's beautiful. And sassy. And just... perfect.”

“If you say so. Look, I've gotta go to the library and get some books for class tomorrow. You cool?”

“Yeah, man. I already feel sober.”

“Suuuure ya do. Yell at Kuno if ya need anything.”

“Yep.” InuYasha snatched his bookbag from the floor and practically flew from the room.

This time of day on a Sunday it was easy for him to run through campus without getting weird looks from the other students, mostly because he might see one or two at most. His feet bounded easily off of the pavement as he ran towards the library. InuYasha loved running like this. It felt freeing. The only problem with it was sometimes he would reach his destination faster than he would have liked and had to end the fun. He really needed to find some sort of release.

Entering the library with a flourish, his eyes were drawn to the bulletin board to the right of the door. He was always on the lookout for odd jobs or something to help him earn some extra cash. It was difficult for him to find a real part time job with his... situation. Amber eyes scanned the many papers adorning the board. Some were looking for room mates, some were trying to sell books or furniture. The only help wanted thing he saw didn't interest him, but he knew someone it might. He took out his phone and snapped a picture.

Kagome had just returned from her own shower when she heard her phone ding. Scrubbing her hair with a towel with one hand, she lifted up the phone and looked at the message. She smiled to herself when she saw it was from Foxy. He had sent her a picture. She clicked on it to enlarge it.

“Help Wanted”

Part-time child care assistant

$12/hr -up to 20 hrs/wk

Students welcome

Will accommodate schedule

888-555-7685

Ask for Koga

Kagome's eyes widened in surprise. She had only briefly mentioned needing to find a part time job now that her money she had saved up over the summer was starting to become dangerously low. Not only had he remembered, he had even found something he thought she might enjoy.

How on earth did you remember?

I remember a lot. Saw it and thought of you is all. You wanna be a teacher right?

Kagome smiled down at her phone as she tossed both of her towels into the mesh hamper at the foot of her bed.

Very much. Thank you so much. This may just be a lifesaver.

Kagome dialed the number from the flyer. She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet waiting for an answer.

“Yoro North child care. Ayame speaking. How can I help you?”

“Yes, I saw a help wanted flyer. It said to ask for Koga?”

“Hold please.”

A few moments passed before a gruff male voice came to her ears.

“Koga here.”

“Yes, I saw the help wanted poster about the child care assistant...”

“Ah, yes. Are you available for an interview tomorrow afternoon?”

Smiling in spite of herself, Kagome nodded before realizing he couldn't see her through the phone.

“Y-yes. What time?”

“Three p.m.?”

“Absolutely. I'll be there. Thank you.”

“Wait, miss?”

“Y-yeah?”

A soft chuckle came through the receiver.

“Can I get your name for the appointment?”

“Oh! I'm so sorry. Kagome. Kagome Higurashi.”

“I look forward to meeting you miss Higurashi. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

Kagome waited for the tell tale click on the other end before pulling the phone away from her ear. Unwilling to give up her excitement, she quickly texted the man who had made her so happy.

I have an interview tomorrow!

She got a series of thumbs up and happy face emoji's in response.

Next >

#fanfiction #my fanfic #my fanfiction #the cat and the fox #tcatf ch 1 #i hope you guys like this one #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #chapter 1

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking... Ch. 16

Masterlist 

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

A/N: This chapter was gonna be much longer but I relaized I should make it two parts because there is a lot going on. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 3510

Warnings: Uh cursing I think is the only one…wow maybe bad french since I don’t speak it, I just take it sooooo

Tags!!:  @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7@littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment@unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple@ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate@superwholockbooknerd526@frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr@sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space@iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2(lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!) @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism

If anyone else wants to be tagged just send me an ask!

Breaking Pace

You poked at the fire, it’s just as cold this winter as it had been the last. But that only meant one things for you, Philip Hamilton’s coming home. The Christmas season has come upon everyone, this is actually the first Christmas you’ll spend with them and you’re realizing how different things are with the holiday in this era. However, some things are still the same, like the singing. You Eliza walked through town together, which was the first time you’d actually walked through the city. You didn’t do much, just picked up some things for the upcoming dinner. While you were out you saw countless numbers of people singing and you were honestly amazed at the sheer amount. New York City was still New York City, no matter what time period. You missed it, the kids kept you busy sure but you never did get used to how quiet it was so far from the hustle and bustle of city life. If you closed your eyes and listened to everything around you, you felt like you were back home. Sitting by your window sill in your third floor apartment that you shared with Anna. You always felt conflicted over whether you wanted to go back to that or not. All of your friends and family were back in the twenty-first century but…the love of your life was here. Not only him but all the new friends you’d made. There was no win, no matter what happened you’d lose something and every time you thought about that you’d stop and listen. In the city you had the best of both worlds. You liked it up there and the singing wasn’t the only thing you noticed. Presents. Oh, the bane of this world, giving people gifts. It’s always fun to do it but the process of finding them is extremely frustrating most of the time. And you were in a different position than most. Alex and Eliza always asked if you’d like compensation for working but you always turned them down. They were already giving you more than enough so there was never a need for that. Now though, you were starting to see the appeal of it. You had nothing to give, at least physically you didn’t. Which is why you made a little deal with Eliza and Angie, but that comes in to play later. You heard a stampede of footsteps trot down the stairs and looked up to find all the children rushing down them. You quickly got up and went over to them.

“Hey, hey, hey now! No running down the stairs! You guys could get hurt!” AJ had a huge grin on his face.

“I’ll go get Father and Mother! They’ll be so happy!” AJ turned to run down the hall toward the study. What the hell’s going on? Johnny noticed your confused expression and explained.

“There’s a carriage…Philip is here early!” He said joyfully. WHAT?! He’s here! He wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow morning! Oh God, do I look okay? Do I have ashes on my apron? Oh, why do I fucking care?! I’m a maid! You smoothed out your dress and saw Eliza and Alex rushing into the main room, AJ close behind.

“My son is back from working hard! I’m so excited!” Alex chimed in while Eliza simply jumped around happily. Everyone crowded around the door as the sound of carriage wheels got louder and louder until they stopped out front. Ugh, I love that sound! You stayed in the middle of the room. I’ll write a letter to Philip every day. I’ve kept his room clean while he was away. Wait for him. The door finally opened, you hear him but you couldn’t see him, everyone was standing in the way but you heard it, among all the words buzzing around you heard it.

“I missed you all so much!” He still sounded as chipper as ever, it made your heart skip a beat. I’m willing to wait for him… The kids parted from him, Eliza and Alex moved to stand by his side. There he was.  My Philip Hamilton… He was wearing an extra jacket because of the cold and he was wearing a hat, that was new at least. What is up with that feather though?! He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and you could almost swear time itself stopped with him. He didn’t move but a smile creeped up onto his face. You weren’t ashamed to admit that a few stray tears escaped your eyes. You took a cautious step forward, your hand reaching out, he did the same. You shook your hesitation away and busted out into a full sprint towards him. He met you halfway. You slammed into him and hugged him with all your strength.

“Come on Star, I’ve only been gone for a few months!” He joked.

“Shut up, Sunny. Let me have this!” He laid his hand on the back of your head and the other on the middle of your back.

“I’ve missed you…so much.” He whispered, you nodded into his shoulder.

“How do you think I feel?” You laughed. The two of you stood there for a moment, not moving, just taking in the pleasure of being close, which you haven’t been for almost five months. When you did pull away you looked up at his ridiculous hat and plucked it off his head.

“Are we in France now? Why on Earth would you wear this?” You tried to joke to stop yourself from crying so much, he looked at you with the same fake offense that you loved.

“Excuse you, I look wonderful in this hat! What? Do you have a thing against France now?”

“I’m not against France, I’m just no Thomas Jefferson. I swear Philly, if you do that thing we are-“

“Ah, mais Mademoiselle! Te yeux, elles avaient faire mal moi! Mon coeur, il vais te amour! Ma petite chou, s’il vous plait, qu’est que je dois te dire?”

“Philip, I have no idea what you just said to me but I think you called me a cabbage at some point and I am honestly very offended by this!”

“Your lack of culture offends me! I’ll have you know that my uncle gave this to me, so yes it is from France!”

“You have an uncle in France?” You asked.

“Well, he’s a kind of uncle. Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette…we just call him uncle Laf!” OMG I’M TAKING THIS HORSE BY THE REINS! MAKING REDCOATS REDDER WITH BLOOD STAINS LAFAYETTE!! Alexander laughed at the name.

“His name is too long; the children call him ‘Laf’ because when Philip was a toddler he couldn’t even pronounce Lafayette!” Eliza smiled nostalgically.

“Aww, I remember that!” Philip shook his head disapprovingly.

“Anyways, I look great in this hat.”

“I think it’s a little too big; you need a few more months!” You handed it back to him. Your face is too nice to hide it under a hat, how else am I supposed to count your freckles? Philip raised an eyebrow to match his sly smile.

“Oh? So I have a nice face? And what was that? You count my freckles?” Damn it! I need to stop saying my thoughts out loud!

“Um, no?” You tried to deny.

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.” He chuckled.

“Ugh, I have to help prepare for dinner!”

“You can deny it all you want but I’m not the only one who sees it!” He jabbed, you rolled your eyes and started to walk towards the kitchen. You always felt weird around the other maids since none of them lived on the property, since they had their own families, and they were all much older than you. The oldest one looked like she was in her mid to late fifties but you thought it would be rude to ask.  Just as you approached the door, Alex called out to you. You turned to see him jogging over to you, holding some sort of envelope in his hand. He stopped and held it to you. You took it and realized it was a letter it looked off to you, most likely because you couldn’t tell who it was from.

“I just checked the mail, it might from Philip before he left.” He chuckled before leaving to back and talk with his son. You looked back at it and you were sure it wasn’t from Philip. You popped off the seal and looked at the letter inside.

Dear Y/N,

             Hello, it’s been a while. I haven’t been able to send letters due to how busy I have been. If you could not tell already, this is Rachel. Cato and I are doing wonderful, busy but wonderful nonetheless. We have set ourselves up a home close to New Jersey, I hope to see you soon but as I said I have been far too busy to do much of anything. But with that in mind, I have good news! I’ve recently given birth to two wonderful little boys. John Hercules Spencer and Alexander Titan Spencer. My surname is Sky because of my being a bastard but I went by Spencer for years to hide that. My children will have to do the same in order to thrive in this judgmental world but I am hopeful. Someday, things will be easier for them. Cato has lovingly dubbed them Herc and Titan, they’ll be wonderful no matter who the end up being. Did you catch the name? Titan, it’s you my dear friend! Titania, Titan, sounds quite nice don’t you think? I believe so. They are truly beautiful; they have their father’s skin but my eyes. Actually, oddly enough they both have a mess of freckles across their faces. They remind me very much of Philip and Angie because of that. I remember Alexander, Mr. Hamilton, told me that my father had those freckles. I do not remember him much but that I do. I’m glad my children share something with him because I know my father would be very proud of me. Not a single time did Alexander talk about my father and not mention his thoughts on me. He truly did love my mother; he was married because of his family. Even though my father only knew me for a short time, he adored me. I feel as though somehow he knew; he knew I would be the one to carry out his legacy. And I shall, I plan to speak out against slavery, for the sake of my love and my children. I will do anything for them and these atrocities need to be put to rest. I’d prefer it done peacefully but that does not seem to be an option, although I will try. I wish you could write back to me, do not fear though, I will try to see you as soon as I can. That probably will not be for some time though with how troublesome my children already seem to be. They don’t seem to cry but they never sleep and like to keep their poor mother up all night. They are so happy to be in this world; I shall always be here for them. My mother couldn’t be around so I swear I shall be for them. I’ll do whatever it takes, probably make a million mistakes. But I’ll make the world safe and sound for them. They will come of age with this young nation. I’ll bleed and fight for them, make it right for them. I will lay a strong enough foundation, I’ll pass it onto them and give the world to them. And let me tell you now, they will blow us all away someday. I cannot wait for you to meet them. Until time allows us to meet once more.

Your friend, R.S

             You were incredibly happy; you were so glad that she was well. And she has children now! The idea that those kids will face hardship made you sad but you knew it would work out for the best. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and you couldn’t have asked for a better gift than that. You wondered what these next few days will bring.

…

             This is it! Oh god I’m nervous! Alex and Eliza called you all down on Christmas morning. You, Eliza and Angie have been practicing for a whole month, you were so glad that they wanted to help you with this. All the children ran into the main room, holding cushions and using them to sit on the floor. Eliza decided to have all the children be given their presents first. Your favorite reaction was Johnny’s when he got new sheet music. He literally cried. You thought you should go next but Alex stopped you.

“Actually Titania, Eliza and I have something for you, the children do as well. Do you mind if we all go first?” He asked.

“Oh, you all didn’t have to get me anything! Oh that’s so sweet!” You couldn’t help but give a sheepish smile. They really didn’t have to do that! Johnny was the first to stand up. He hid his face in his cravat and made his words muffled.

“I…um, mama told me what your gift is so I have an idea for that…” He sat back down and you were already intrigued, so was everyone else. Before you could question him about what that meant Jamie stood and handed a large sheet of paper.

“Turn it around.” He instructed and you did so, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You saw a black and white sketch, your own face staring back at you. It was a beautifully done portrait, it must’ve taken him days to do.

“Oh, Jamie! I love it! It’s beautiful! I’m so proud of you!” You pulled him into a hug and ruffled his hair. He snorted and once you pulled away, AJ was standing with a proud smile on his face.

“I have to go grab mine! I’ll be right back!” He ran out of the room and into the dining room. You raised an eyebrow and you could Eliza holding back a giggle. He soon came running back into the room, holding some kind of tray. He approached you and you finally saw what it was. It was a small cake; you’ve only seen it once or twice in this era but not had it. Although Alex did say that John Adams probably won the election with cake bribery. “Cooking is science so I thought it would be the best decision to make this for you! I’m proud of the whipped cream myself!” He smiled widely.

“You…you used your talents for good instead of evil! AJ this is the best gift you could ever give me! I love it!” He handed you the tray and told you to try it later. Angie walked over to her parents and put her hands on her hips.

“I helped with this last year! So I hope you like it!” Both her and Eliza went over to you and locked arms with you.

“What’s going?” You asked nervously.

“You’ll have to come with us to get it! We’ll be right back boys!” Eliza cooed. They lead you down the hallway and into Alex and Eliza’s room, they closed the door behind you. Eliza walked over to her wardrobe and opened the door, quickly pulling some things out of it. Your eyes widened. “Mulligan said he took your measurements last year and decided to make something for you. Alexander, Angie and I all helped with the design. We think you’ll like it!”

“Put it on, put it on!” Angie jumped excitedly.

“Yes, undress please. I am very eager to see how this looks! I shall help you put it on.”

“Eliza, you don’t have to do that! I’m the maid here!” You interjected, she waved your comment off.

“Nonsense! You are a very dear friend and I consider you my own daughter so I will help you with this!” She insisted, you eventually gave in and undressed, allowing Eliza to help you with an actual corset.

‘Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” You let out as she tightened the laces to the back.

“You haven’t gotten the chance to wear a proper dress in a long time, don’t worry you’ll get used to it again.” I’ve never actually worn a real corset Eliza! She finished putting all the garments on you and helped you step into the cover. You pulled your arms through the sleeves and Eliza buttoned the back for you. You could feel the weight from the ruffling gathered up around your lower back.

“Okay, are you ready to see it?” Angie asked sweetly. You nodded and the led you over to Eliza’s full length mirror, once you saw yourself, you froze.

“Originally, it was meant to be a ball gown, but Alexander said that it might suit you better to wear something more casual.” Eliza informed. The dress was, as Eliza said, very casual. You could see someone wearing this to go visit a friend or to have tea, but it was nothing short of beautiful.

“I picked out the color! It’s the same color I wore when we first met!” Angie said proudly. It was a soothing lavender color with black and dark purple floral patterns along the trim, fading out into the actual skirt and bodice. The dress stopped at your ankles so you could see your old, dark boots peeking out from under it. The sleeves stopped at your elbows and the neckline was a little low but not so much that you felt uncomfortable. The actual heavy ruffles were the most intricate part, the fabric started at your stomach but draped down to your knees and came up to sit on your lower back, a waterfall of purple falling out of it.

“You look gorgeous, TT!” Angie exclaimed.

“I might want to keep this dress under lock and key, don’t want any boys trying to pester you now do we? Oh, what am I saying? You’re always beautiful! This dress just shows you what we all see!” Eliza commented. Beautiful? You certainly felt it, you felt like you could dazzle a room full of people. “Oh! Let me take that head cloth, that will really complete this!” She untied the cloth keeping your hair out of your face and handed it to Angie.  There was a collective silence for a moment as Eliza and Angie nodded in approval.

“Come on! We have to show everyone!” Angie tugged on your arms, before you could even get a word in, they were already pushing out of the room.

“Alright, I shall go out first and introduce the two of you!” Eliza skipped down the hall and into the main you room while Angie and yourself stopped at the archway, hiding behind the wall so no one would see you. From in the room you heard Eliza. “Everyone! I have something I would like all of you to see!”

“What exactly is going on here mother?” You heard Philip ask. Angie held in a squeal.

“Patience Philip! Now everyone, give it up for the Hamilton girls! Titania and Angie!” You heard Alex and give a short ‘woohoo!’ and some applause. The Hamilton girls? Before you could think about that any more, Angie was leading you out, strutting into the room. You saw everyone look at the two of you and they cheered, everyone except Philip. For a second you worried that he might not like the dress but as got closer to him, you saw the look in his eyes. He was star-struck. By the time you made it back to where you were in the group originally, Philip was staring up at you from his seat, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. “These girls are the most beautiful roses this family could ever hope to see!” Eliza smiled.

“Yeah! We’re beautiful but if anyone tries to mess with us, they get the thorns!” Angie stuck out her tongue. You couldn’t help but giggle at the statement paired with her enthusiasm. AJ leaned over toward Philip and snapped his fingers in his face, brining Philip out of his dreamlike state. He shook his head and blinked a few times.

“What happened? Where am I? What year is it?” Philip joked, a blush spreading across his face. He stood up stepped in front of you, scratching his cheek nervously. “You…you um, you look really…Wow…” He said passionately.

“Wow? Is that the proper adjective?” You asked, trying to ignore how hot your face felt with him staring at you. Why does he have to be so adorable?

“It is now…Because wow, you look incredible… Although I do have a complaint.” He crossed his arms and you raised an eyebrow

“Oh you do now?” You asked sarcastically.

“Yes, I don’t like your hair in your face. It makes it hard to see your eyes!”

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