#but she's a slightly-lower-than-average mother for her time

[lxzy-bxby]

Domestic

~ ♡ ~

If you had a dollar for every time people called you crazy for getting knocked up by a trooper a decade older, the trooper in question could probably leave his job. Well, if it was that easy to become noncombatant.

But honestly, you don’t give a shit. You are planning on doing it at least one more time in the future.

Those haters would totally understand you once they saw your baby daddy with his shirt off, your infant on top of his bare chest. Because that’s exactly the picture greeting you as soon as you open your eyes.

If it wasn’t for your still aching postpartum lower body, you’d pounce on Leon right away.

“You’re home…” You rub your drowsy eyes. “And I’ve been wondering why she has been so quiet.”

You still feel kinda guilty for allowing yourself to sleep in the first place. You knew it’d be tough with Leon being away half of the time, and you told both him and yourself that you would manage. But as soon as the baby girl dozed off, so did you.

Waking up to Leon finally being home is more than pleasant.

Leon raises his head, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “The best kiddo ever. Let me shower and eat before pooping her diaper.”

You smile slightly, scooting a bit closer. Your daughter looked up at Leon curiously, reaching out to grip his nose. Leon laughed, letting her and then squeaking in a high pitched voice, making her giggle.

“And you were the one to tell me that the battlefield must be way easier than fatherhood.” You tease, twining your legs with his, tufts of hair rough against your soft skin.

Leon just shrugs, engrossed in stroking the baby's onesie-clad back—she was having her daily tummy time, and she seemed to love to see the world from another perspective, currently mesmerized by her father’s stubbled face. “Didn’t expect for the little bean to cooperate. Y’know what they say about wailing and stuff.”

“Our kid is just different.” You huff arrogantly. “Smart and calm and pretty.”

Which is true, though. Your babygirl is way more quiet than average and definitely beautiful: how could she not be with Leon being the father and you being the mother? And even though you’ve been self-conscious throughout your life, seeing your drop-dead gorgeous daughter now feels like a self-esteem boost all the time.

Leon grins, glancing at you. “I bet she is. The real question here is if I can start calling you MILF now that she’s almost a few months old.”

“Just so you know, I’ll start thinkin’ that our marriage is falling apart if you don’t change my name to ‘DILF’ in your phone.” He declares nonchalantly, stroking the newborn's head. She makes a gurgling sound, her big wide eyes darting between you and Leon.

You force yourself to make a disgusted face and swat his bicep lightly. “You’re gross.”

You press a kiss to her downy temple, throwing a glance at the bedside clock. It’s been a few hours since she last ate. You frown in confusion. Technically, you have to feed her now. But it doesn't seem like she’s hungry.

Moments like these make you deeply and utterly despise being a first-time mother. Especially when your pushing-forty husband is as clueless as you are.

“So… the midwife told me that feeding time varies, but… it’s been like two hours. Should I… should I make her eat nonetheless?” You mewl to Leon, tucking into his shoulder.

He strokes your back soothingly. “We can try. If she latches on, then she must be alrighty with boob time.”

You mentally exhale at the absence of any witty tit-related retort.

Then Leon smirks.

“And if she isn’t… Well, I can replace her.”

Not like that surprises you. He always was a sucker for a good pair of breasts—pun intended—but now it's a million times worse. Motorboating kind of worse.

You wrinkle your nose in mock-disgust, snatching your daughter from him and praying for her to latch on. Leon pouts dramatically when you turn to face away from him.

“How low you think of me, baby. I do not salivate anytime I see tits.” He huffs, peeking over your shoulder.

Luckily for you, babygirl does latch on. You look at her content face as she suckles, feeling Leon squeeze your waist softly.

“Does it… hurt?” He asks obliviously yet with genuine concern, nodding to the nursing baby. 

You shake your head, smiling lightly. Finally, your infant pulls away, drool and milk in the corners of her mouth. You chuckle, handing her over to Leon, marveling at the way her small legs scrunch when she’s up in the air.

It definitely does not initiate any kind of heat in between your thighs when you see his veiny arms wrapping around her tiny body deftly to press her upright against his bare chest.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Leon murmurs, holding her over his shoulder. 

He starts patting the baby's back softly, nuzzling her head. She looks up at him in the hell you my-mother-literal-fucker want me to do adorable way, and before her tiny brain processes it, lets out a loud burp which would earn her a dozen of sexist etiquette comments if she was a few years older.

“That just gave me a Raccoon City flashback.” Leon notes dryly, and you think that if this child makes him make jokes about his PTSD sponsor, then twelve hours of labor were worth it.

Truth be told, Leon really does look at least ten years younger and at least twenty years happier whenever your daughter is within arm’s reach.

He pecks her forehead and nestles her in the crook of his sinewy arm, oh-so-gentlemanly ignoring spit on his shoulder.

You curl up against his side. “And what the hell are we supposed to do with her now?”

Leon lets out a velvety laugh, playing with the ends of your hair. “Well, not now, but someday definitely… make her a sibling. That’s for one. As for now… No idea ‘bout you, but I’m turning into walking dead myself.”

You suddenly feel like a stupid fucking brainless dumb bitch for not even realizing that maybe he is tired as hell. “‘Course. Rest up. We’ll go chill downstairs.”

Before you can go and chill downstairs, Leon gently yanks you back onto the bed, pulling you closer to his side. “As if you’re going anywhere. I missed you and we’re cuddling until… I dunno, until I wanna go pee or somethin’ like that.”

Not like you want to protest, honestly.

So you settle with what he offers—even if that means him falling asleep within the next five minutes and you having to suffer through his snores with the restless kid on top of you.

Right now, you couldn’t think of anything better than that.

~ ♡ ~

[burnt-by-marigolds]

⊱ Yae of Evereska ⊰

OC Introduction

I suppose some information below could be considered mildly spoilery in relation to my fics, though I regard it more as a “supplementary material” providing context, since I’m sure I won’t be able to cover it all in my stories. I also tried to keep the details vague, so to (hopefully!) whet people's appetite.

Shout out to @elceewunjo, @missfortunetherogue and @izumiphoenix who have tagged me in the OC Preview game. Thank you! This is the post I did instead.

⊱ Basic information ⊰

Name: Yae (pronounced yAh-eh, /’jɑ:ɛ/) Species: Half-elf Pronouns: He/him Gender: Masculine leaning, otherwise open for interpretation Age: 42 (during the events of BG3) Neurotype: Autistic Attraction: Nebularomantic, demi, pan Class: Warlock, patron: Great Old One, Pact of the Blade Place of birth: Evereska Notable family:

Xan (he/him) – father; high elf, wizard (enchanter), member of the Greycloaks (canon BG1 companion).

Kirian (ey/em) – parent; human, wise person / witch (OC).

Zenith (he/him) – half-brother; high elf, cleric of Selûne (Light Domain), member of the Greycloaks (BG3 hireling, canonically dead, alive in my headcanon).

Avalea (she/her) – “aunt”, Zenith’s mother; high elf, politician, patron of arts and sciences (OC).

⊱ Appearance ⊰

Yae is tall, angular, slender. He used to be a scrawny, sickly kid, and only gained a little muscle once he started training swordsmanship; but you can still count his ribs through the skin of his chest. During adolescent years, he went through two major growth spurts; his pale skin is dotted with both stretch marks and freckles. There are magical burns on Yae’s face and hands, a memento of a half-developed spell he tried to cast as a teenager.

Yae has grey eyes – exactly the same colour as Kirian’s, even though eirs somehow seem warmer than his. The half-elf’s hair is best described as ashen brown, slightly wavy – similar to Xan’s and Zenith’s. He likes to wear two thin side braids and bangs he can hide behind. Yae has a noticeably flat affect; his expressions are subtler than average.

The men of the family. Left to right: Yae, Xan, Zenith

⊱ Background ⊰

Yae was born and raised in Evereska, an elven city on Faerûn’s mainland, in the region known as Western Heartlands. Despite having an older half-brother, he grew up like an only child would – by the time of Yae’s birth, Zenith was already an adult, travelling outside the city in the service of the Greycloaks, and back then the two didn’t really have a chance to become close.

Yae had always been quiet and bookish; he had trouble getting along with other children. Instead, he spent time with Xan, reading and practising magic; with Kirian, listening to stories about common people and occasionally travelling the wild; and with Avalea – whom he regards his favourite aunt despite not being related by blood – absorbing knowledge shared readily by her academic proteges and picking in passing the skill of how to read and phrase contracts.

Yae has always been the most expressive around Kirian

At the age of fourteen, Yae secretly tried to cast a spell he researched and devised all on his own, in hopes of becoming like everybody else. The magic backfired, leaving him scarred for the rest of his life. The unfortunate event also made him forsake the path of a wizard. Instead, he chose to become a warlock; he craved guidance and safety, and someone to just be there for him – a role he subconsciously hoped a patron could fill. A few years later, after another extensive research, he found a mysterious, alien entity, and forged a pact with it. Ironically, it remains unclear whether the said entity cares, or even knows about the mortal harnessing its power and knowledge.

In his early thirties, Yae left Evereska and arrived in Baldur’s Gate. He settled in the Lower City, renting an apartment in a tenement house, and worked as a freelancer, until he met Helsik. The two became associates, but eventually Yae’s health deteriorated and they parted ways.

Some time after that, Yae – who never ever wished for a more interesting life – got kidnapped by illithids.

⊱ Personality ⊰

Yae is slow to trust and doesn’t do well in social situations – except for bargaining and outwitting the other party when striking deals, another thing he owes to aunt Avalea and her political acumen. His limited expression, reluctance towards touch and eye-contact, as well as the need for a lot of time and space to himself often cause people to assume he’s indifferent or even cold. But given the chance to warm up, he proves to be a very loyal person, and if he feels close to someone and safe with them, he starts to enjoy physical contact and becomes more comfortable looking directly at them. Interestingly, he can usually sense when something is off with another person’s behaviour, though most of the time he’s unable to say what exactly.

Yae and his favourite aunt

Yae values rationality and logical thinking, as well as careful research. He doesn’t care much about power, but loves knowledge for its own sake. He’s a focused person, good at noticing details and making connections. On one hand, he can be morally grey and try to stay neutral when possible; on another, he’ll oppose bullying helpless targets and senseless violence. He also can’t stand people who don’t respect boundaries. Add to this his stubbornness – he won't blindly follow rules or expectations if he thinks they make no sense.

Deep down, Yae is extremely lonely. The distance he creates between himself and others serves to protect himself from hurt. During the events of BG3, he finally earns companions he decides to trust, and his demeanour eventually softens and warms a little.

⊱ Important relationships ⊰

Astarion

At first, Yae and Astarion faced the double empathy problem: they misinterpreted each other’s behaviour, drew negative conclusions and got frustrated in the process, with Astarion believing Yae held him in contempt, and Yae believing Astarion didn’t mean a single word he spoke, didn’t like him and that it was generally better to just keep distance from the rogue.

It didn’t help that Astarion couldn’t make up his mind as to whom to seduce as a part of his “nice, simple plan”. Yae seemed simultaneously like a very good and a very bad target. Eventually, Astarion gave it a go, and Yae refused him in his usual brusque manner (though he didn’t mean to be rude), which naturally made the vampire angry (mostly with himself, but by extension also with Yae).

A quiet moment full of trust

What fed into the confusion was the fact that, despite this string of misunderstandings, the two also had positive interactions: they shared some snarky comments and agreed on various matters; and when they didn’t butt heads, Yae treated Astarion in a perplexingly normal, often indirectly kind way, even once he deduced the latter is a vampire. If their interactions had been purely negative, it would make the situation so much easier, wouldn’t it?

In Act 2, they finally started to listen to each other without assumptions and became friends. In Act 3 the devotion grew deeper, even as it probably meant different things for each of them. After growing closer still and having some time to explore and name the shared bond, they finally partnered.

Shadowheart

Yae and Shadowheart hit it off pretty quickly. They both decided that the other person was the most pragmatic and reasonable of the entire ragtag band, which led to their quick “alliance”. Yae, despite not following any gods himself, didn’t judge Shadowheart’s devotion towards Shar as “evil” nor offered unsolicited views on religion. (Neither did he hide them when asked, so the two still discussed their conflicting opinions at length.)

Out of the three initial group members – Yae, Shadowheart and Lae’zel – only the githyanki was eager to take on the role of the leader. Shadowheart, however, would have none of it. In a true kingmaker fashion, she decided they were to follow Yae’s decisions instead, whether he liked it or not. He shouldered the burden, though he’d always hear other people’s expertise and was all too happy to share responsibilities on various occasions. Gradually, the group became more democratic, with less clear, and sometimes interchangeable leader role.

The alliance quite naturally turned into friendship. Shadowheart became the first person Yae would turn to with his numerous health problems, which speaks volumes about his trust.

Side note: If I were ever to consider a poly ship for Yae, it would be a mostly platonic one with Astarion and Shadowheart. But truth be told, I don’t think Yae would be happy in a poly arrangement – it would overstimulate him badly. Having one partner is already complex enough for him.

Whatever Yae is talking about, Lae'zel's not easily impressed

Lae’zel

Yae quickly became annoyed by the way Lae’zel claimed superiority and insisted Faerûnians were her inferiors and should serve her – enough so he started pushing back and calling out flaws in her reasoning whenever he could, as well as challenging her faith in Vlaakith.

On the other hand, he quickly noticed that Lae’zel was something other people were not – literal. She believed and meant every word she spoke, which matched Yae’s own straightforwardness. This trait was what ultimately made the two respect each other, especially once Lae’zel realised Yae wasn’t the weakling she had first taken him for. Their opinions still clashed a lot, but in a more friendly manner – and they started learning from each other.

However, this relationship was heavily tested when Yae spoke against freeing Orpheus. After defeating the Netherbrain, Lae’zel left feeling betrayed, and Yae blamed himself, wondering if he really had been right to assume the githyanki shouldn’t trade one tyrant for another.

Six months later they reconciled, and Yae was quite perplexed to find out Lae’zel had named the hatchling Xan. (No, not to honour his father, but still.)

The Emperor

The Dream Guardian made one crucial mistake when he appeared to Yae, and it was taking on Yae’s father’s appearance without mimicking his demeanor. He didn’t even once insisted they’re all doomed! So Yae’s only logical conclusion was it must have been some kind of a ruse, or possibly tadpole induced hallucinations.

Sometimes what really matters is looking in the same direction

Because of this – and because of lack of trustworthy research – Yae refused to use additional tadpoles or illithid powers. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

As much as Yae hated the Dream Guardian deflecting all his questions (not so nice when others do that to you, huh?), his trust towards the stranger slowly grew. He didn’t balk upon the reveal of the Emperor’s true nature. Instead, the idea of becoming a free illithid fascinated him.

Eventually, Yae remained a half-elf, but even without the tadpole, he liked to think he and the Emperor could still be considered friends – or whatever illithid equivalent there was.

Side note: I do have that AU at the back of my head where Astarion ascends, Yae breaks up with him and becomes an illithid, and the two continue to have the most epic, earth-shattering arguments for the rest of the adventure, calling out each other’s bullshit, but never admitting their own. In this scenario, I think it would be possible for Yae to eventually pair up with the Emperor, though it would definitely be an unusual, inhuman relationship – and I’m unsure if it would last.

⊱ Writing ⊰

The Voice of Reason – a collection of fanfics taking place during the events of BG3.

⊱ Other information ⊰

Yae has various sensory sensitivities and is prone to overstimulation.

As stated above, he has never wished to live in more interesting times. Instead, he can genuinely appreciate peaceful boredom.

Some people wrongly assume Yae hides behind his bangs and tends to wear less revealing clothing because he's shy of his scars. That's not true. The real reason is that he likes to have something between himself and the rest of the world.

He likes puzzles and games, especially those that require logical/tactical thinking.

If Yae were a recruitable companion, his personal quest would be titled The Voice of Reason.

⊱ Gallery ⊰

[imasradiantasthesun]

i was inspired by this post by @evessupersecrettumbler to create a comparison chart for my headcanons for the D12 gang’s heights :D

i accidentally put Peeta as 5’11 instead of 5’10 lol whoops but point still stands, he’s a lot taller than Katniss. in the first book, she has to stand on her tip toes in order to kiss him on the jaw after the tribute parade. when he's first introduced, Katniss also describes him as "Medium height, stocky build." average height for men in the US is about 5'9. historically, average height has increased over time, and the books take place far in the future, though how this may be affected by the droughts, floods, and other environmental disasters (that a) no doubt affected access to nourishing food, and b) canonically lowered the human population in North America) is unknown to me. so i erred on the side of caution and decided that Peeta's full height is about 5'10, 5'11ish (likely after growing a bit after the 74th Games due to being much more well-fed).

through others’ words about Katniss as well as her own descriptions of herself (including the example above), we know that she is definitely small. off the top of my head i can remember: almost all of the male tributes and at least half of the female tributes in the first book are bigger than her (she also says, "Though I may be smaller naturally […]" in the same scene); in the first book she's small enough to be swallowed up by her sleeping bag; and Peeta says that Katniss, "isn't that very big" in Mockingjay.

while height is primarily determined by genetics, it can also be affected by other factors like medical conditions and malnutrition. in my opinion, both of Katniss's parents were on the shorter side, so she would've been as well anyway, but i think the fact that she was malnourished during a critical period of her childhood (aka after her father died when she was 11) sort of secured it. the average height for a woman in the US is 5'4, though in general the average height range is about 5'0 to 5'7, so the girls' heights vary a lot more than the guys' here. so i put Katniss squarely at 5'3 (on a good day lol)

we know that Gale was taller than 6’0 by the time he was 14, so i imagine him as 6’4; both of his parents are probably quite tall, and he was pretty much done growing by the time he was most heavily hit by malnutrition anyway (again, after his dad died when he was 14). Madge’s father is described as a “tall, balding man”, so i think she would be tall like him as well. she is also the most well-nourished kid in the district, so that probably helped her grow too.

Thom, Bristel, Delly, and Leevy are all basically based off of vibes and my own imagination. we know that Delly was described as (relatively) overweight, but that doesn’t really say anything about her height, so i just put her as 5'5, which is in the middle/slightly higher end of women's average range. Thom and Bristel were able to carry Gale along with Peeta (and i think Haymitch as well?) after he was whipped, so we at least know they’re strong. also, considering the fact that Gale was lying on a board at the time, i think the three of them (Peeta, Thom, and Bristel) were all roughly around the same height so they wouldn’t be uneven when carrying Gale. i also headcanon Thom and Bristel as being first cousins (their fathers are brothers), so they both got their dads' good genetics in terms of height.

there is absolutely nothing to indicate Leevy's height other than the fact that she's from the Seam, so she's malnourished. i headcanon that Leevy and Gale are second cousins through their mothers (specifically, their mothers have the same paternal grandparents), so Leevy's mom could be on the taller end for women, or at least medium height, but i also imagine Leevy's father being pretty short for a man, hence why Leevy is 5'2. heights can vary a lot even between full siblings (for example, my older brother is 8 inches taller than me because the men on my dad's side are always >=6'0 while the women on both sides are average/short), so it's not a stretch at all to say that Gale is more than a foot taller than Leevy despite them being cousins

[gallusrostromegalus]

so if Yachiru Kusajishi is older than Shinji and still looks like a small child, while Tetsuzaimon Iba grew up from in utero to a full adult while the Vizoreds were in the living world, what determines the rate of maturation for a particular soul in AEIWAM?

Short Version: Hell is Clogged, and the Demons are desperately trying to keep powerful souls OUT until there is room for them, AND trying to yank powerful souls in ASAP when an opening becomes available, and this makes Powerful Souls age funny.

Slightly more complex version:

So in AEIWAM, the Exit from Hell is currently being blocked by God's Dismembered Ass.

This means that there is an ENORMOUS Queue of Perfectly Reformed Souls trying to get out, and there *is* a constant steady trickle of souls out of Hell, but Nowhere near enough, and worse, once a soul is reformed, it doesn't give off spiritual energy to feed the Life Machine anymore.

So Hell is in the VERY Precarious Position where they NEED powerful souls to enter Hell so they can off-gas spiritual power to keep the machine that generates reality going, but if they get too many too strong souls too fast, they risk blowing a hole in the side of the hell dimension and, ah.

Well, All Hell breaking Loose.

So the demons in Hell are constantly making complex calculations about who actually get to enter- Souls that have good Karma, even if they're powerful are typically booted to the Spirit World until there's an opening (like a former captain finally returning to baseline power and reincarnating), and Souls with Bad Karma but not much spiritual power can get sent to the afterlife they don't actually deserve because they're so far back in the triage. At the same time, they're constantly giving extra life force, get-out-of-death-free cards and other chicanery to exceptionally powerful souls to keep them "alive" until there's room.

...And also yanking them down the SECOND there's an opening to fill because they absolutely cannot let the Life Machine's battery get any lower.

This power-scramble is responsible for a lot of Bizarre Aging and Dying Phenomena:

Tetsuzaimon Iba was born, aged at a normal human rate until his 26th birthday and then just. Stopped. This happened to his mother too. She's been 29 for 342 years now. That's not the only form of Delayed Aging that hits Spiritually powerful people: Some people just age at a slow but consistent rate- 1 year for every 5 lived is pretty common for rank-and-file shinigami. Yamamoto had gone through several slowdowns- as a young man he was aging 1-for-10, but once he founded Soul Society it slowed to 1-for-25 and ever since The Divorce he seems to have stopped aging at 'A Ridiculously Ripped 80-something'.

Hisana Kuchiki was struck down with Sudden Incurable Wasting when one of the smaller power slots opened up and a Demon tried to pull her in with a quick accident and accidentally caused her to *linger*. The Demon is PROFOUNDLY sorry, takes very good care of Hisana down there, and lives in terror of the day Byakuya gets down there and kicks it's ass.

Demons are not actually malicious, though they can be really unpleasant. Demons are essentially the Social Workers of the Wheel of Samsara, helping damaged or dangerous souls become better people before they reincarnate. The relationship between the average soul in Hell and their assigned demon ranges approximately from 'your benevolent and genuinely helpful therapist' to 'your overworked and jaded parole officer'.

The exception is for souls with good karma that are there to vent power- A Demon assigned to one of those cases is essentially the Soul's Personal Assistant/babysitter to make sure the soul doesn't break anything down there. "Shinigami Supervisor" is a DEEPLY coveted position in hell- You get all the spiritual sustenance you can handle, very little paperwork, AND you get to have fun adventures with a cool person who (largely) has their shit together! So the competition for the Next Opening is ferocious. Shinigami scientists have noted that there is often an uptick in seismic activity, the appearance of hot springs, and unusually hot weather all over the living and spirit worlds in the month leading up to the death of a Captain or other powerful soul, but aren't sure why. The reason is Demon Job Promotion Thunderdome, held in the time leading up to the 'retirement' of a captain or other powerful soul as they finish giving off all the power they can to the Life Machine and enter the reincarnation queue.

The utterly crackheaded "returned to life" science used to bring back Rose, Kensei and Matsumoto during TYBW only worked because a pack of Demons on the other side were MAKING it work.

Mayuri is actually an escapee from Hell that WAS aging drastically fast (he looked 32 when he was 14) because the demons were trying to reign him back in, but he learned just enough about life-force management from his internment in Hell to keep himself alive(ish) and Hale (Kinda).

Most of the souls in Soul Society age normally, and the indicator that you DO have spiritual power is that you 1. Age slower than anticipated and 2. feel EXTREME levels of hunger. (Frankly, nothing about 'souls don't feel hunger' makes sense. It'd be a post-scarity society if that was the case, not feudalism. Nearly all Souls in AEIWAM feel hunger a normal amount, but those who would make good shinigami feel 'I will eat drywall or carrion to stop the cravings' levels of hunger).

One of the things that happens before you become a seated officer in the Gotei-13 is that your captain is supposed to take you aside and explain that the reason an officer's commission pays so well and takes care of so much is that if you take it, you are at DRASTICALLY higher risk of going to Hell when you die. If you become a Lieutenant, it's all but guaranteed. It's not the office that grants it per se- but one you're a seated officer, you WILL be exposed to situations that will make you grow as a person and become a stronger fighter and thus, a more powerful spirit. maybe you'll squeak under the power limbo bar, but understand that that's a risk.

The reason Shinigami can't assign people to at least the same district their relatives are in is that assignment is done by Hell- it's determined by "area of lowest ambient spiritual power in spirit world at the EXACT time you die" and you HAVE to go there. It does help alleviate the pressure in Hell by a significant amount, and if you move districts after arriving in your assigned one it doesn't cause a problem. It's only recently that Soul Security Numbers have been introduced, and your ancestors can opt to put in their address if you want to look them up when you cross over.

Yachiru however, is an unusual case. She's one of the slowest-aging people in Soul Society (aging approximately 1 year for every 50 lived), but it's not the contrivance of Hell. There's actually a lot of Wailing and Gnashing of teeth about Yachiru in Hell, because she's actually got a case of Secondhand Deification from her father, and frankly, Hell doesn't know what it's going to do with either of them.

[lagooneah]

Birthday...

A comfort fic after Overture - By Me (Lagooneah) Slightly proofread(?) Contents: Comfort, general sibling shenanigans, found family trope, cuteness and everything being ok for once. Warnings: The heart wrenching desire that things were this ok in canon. W/C:Roughly 2100 ---------------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes- I am, now could you help-"

"You're certain-"

"Great heavens, will you just trust me, mate?"

"... Always..."

A blonde young man, no older than 18 or 19 years of age, passes through the door of the antique shop, the jingle of a bell sounding faintly before the blunt shut of it. He strides a few feet off, stopping in front of a boy with dark hair and eyes even darker, sitting and slouching at a bench.

He places his hands on his hips, making a show of his presence rather than announcing himself- but his colleague is quick to catch on, lifting his head and meeting his gaze,

"Nothing? Really?" He asks with a lift of his brow, the blonde shakes his head with a scoff,

"Nothing. Shame really, thought for sure the antique shop would have something..."

They both sigh, nearly in sync while the blonde plops right beside the brunette, resting his arms out and over the back.

"Carlooooo," He whines dramatically, hanging his head back. Before he can even get a response, he sounds again "Carloooo what are we going to doooooo." He whines further, flopping his weight onto the other boy, now getting a response.

"Ack! Romeo! The blazes-?" Carlo huffs, attempting to shove his comrade, Romeo, off of his back, but to no avail.

"Save me Carlo... My body is limp, I'm seeing.. The light..!" He continues, his limbs reaching only to flop again over young Carlo, who huff and grumbles with another shove,

"Get.. Off me..! God- why is it so hard to shove you off?!"

"Maybe it's because you're so short."

"Am not! I'm average and you know it!"

"Yeah, yeah- 5"7."

"Get your head out of the CLOUDS- YOU SASQUATCH-"

"So this is where you've been?"

In an instant, the pair are at a halt, meeting eyes in silent agreement to not look up at what's before them.

Or rather, who.

The company lets out a sigh, hands at their hips, "And here i foolishly thought my protégés were doing something useful in their time slipped away from me."

Carlo's eyes dart to his friend, eyes wide with questioning,

"I thought you said she knew?? That you told her-"

"Told me what?"

The boys whimpered quiet and meek, like a pair of puppies to their mother dog. Romeo leans down further to Carlo's ear,

"Follow my lead." He clears his throat.

He rises quickly and with straightened posture, dragging his fellow by the collar and straightening him to his feet too.

"Lady Florence, I can explain."

The woman before them stands clear now, her deep red hair tied in a neat bun, her eyes icy, calculated, fierce. Her arms cross and eyes narrow, a familiar language that need no words by the pairs standards.

The blonde clears his throat again, eyeing the other before speaking again,

"I- well. I figured that since the streets were mostly empty, safe, then I could uh... Tends to some other matters. More personal." He brushes over, Carlo beside him, side-eyeing and mouthing a 'what?'

There's no way he could get away with this.

...

He didn't.

"Why didn't you tell her?!" Carlo hisses, pulling his boots off and letting them fall with a clunk against the hardwood floors. Romeo defends,

"Because it's supposed to be a surprise! What could I have told her? 'Hey, we're gonna go shopping for fun and whimsy', it wouldn't have worked!" He hangs his coat, not caring enough to adjust the amulet attached.

Carlo rolls his eyes before using them to glare at the blonde,

"Whatever..." His tone lowers as he continues to undress out of his uniform, turned away from the other. Romeo remains quiet for a moment before sighing softly, walking right over to him.

He drops his forehead to Carlo's shoulder and mumbles,

"Sorry... She won't let us alone for weeks now..."

Carlo chuckles, patting and tousling Romeo's hair,

"It's fine... We're acting like we would've been up to her standards enough to stay long anyway. Just let me help next time, you dunce."

Romeo smiles, lifting his head to rest his chin against his shoulder.

"You can still help noooowwwww..." He whines, similar to hours before to Carlo's dismay,

"Don't do this-"

"But Carlo I need heeeellllpppp, and you're the smartest guy I knooooowwww." He continues whining, dramatically turning his head and flopping his arms about.

"Ok I'll help just cut it-"

"Carlooooooo..."

"YES YES I'LL HELP STOP."

Romeo smirks, and Carlo's cheeks flush with frustration, before smiling and letting out a small giggle, which turns into a fit of giggles between the two for full minutes in the dressing room.

---------------------------------------------

"Ok- here's the plan." Romeo and Carlo are close, faces leaned near as they whisper.

"You distract Lea first- you keep her occupied with 'training', while I run down the Boulevard for some kind of shop. Then, I come back on the 10 minute mark, we switch off, discreetly, you can't go immediately or she'll notice." He pats and squeezes his shoulder, "Ready brother?"

"As I'll ever be, brother."

And the plan goes into motion- for the next two hours of what was endless training for Lady Florence, the boys were taking turns searching high and low for a shop worthy enough, let alone a gift. Though they weren't 'training' per se, you could easily be convinced that they lost multiple pounds each during these two hours.

Aside from the occasional look of suspicion, they were under the radar in their plan, executing with high precision that they only ever seemed to practice when on the battlefield.

It was at the plans near end, right when they were beginning to lose hope, that they found the perfect gift.

---------------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Yeah! Why?"

"Well- just wondering- do you know if she's ever been surprised before? Like, a dark room, confetti, screaming 'Happy Birthday!' Kind of surprise?"

"I... Oh. I actually have no idea."

"Exactly! What if it's like that one time you and Rosie threw something for me like that, and I passed out from shock? Or worse..."

"Pfft- hehe. I forgot about that-"

"Shut up! You know how my parents are..."

"Yeah- sorry. Anyways, what are you worried about? That she's gonna hit us? Think we're intruders?"

"Well, yeah. I doubt anyone visits the Legendary Stalkers room, turns all the lights off, and waits for her."

"Well, you make it sound so much creepier than it is!"

"It's inherently odd!"

"Shh! Someone's coming-"

The jostling and jingling of keys sound, paired with clicks of a heel, nearing closer and closer to the door before them.

Romeo and Carlo had been in this room- Lea Florence, their teachers room- for a generous hour and a half hanging streamers, setting a small table with themed cutlery and plates, and distributing items of 'who carries what' for when she would arrive.

Carlo held a moderately sized cake, decorated with white, red, and pink frosting in a neat design of a rose garden- topped with a personalized piping of the birthday woman's' full name and candles and flame, the only thing illuminating the dark room.

Romeo held a small party favor that was sure to spew confetti at the strings pull, and he stood just a foot away to the nearest light switch. Putting himself in charge of timing the light to then signal Carlo to shout the words...

click

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"

The room stops as Lea's eyes widen and adjust, her mouth opening, but no words making their way out. Confetti in her hair, and two boys smiling wide before her, she lets out a scoff.

Then a giggle.

Then a full hearty laugh.

The pair glanced at one another, smiles faltering as their target audience began laughing at them. At the display? With them? What was it? Whatever it was, they didn't pick up on it, not before Carlo could speak up,

"You... Don't like it?"

And Romeo followed,

"Sorry- are parties not your-"

"This is what you fools were up to?" She asked as she wiped a tear from her cheek, giggling in between words. They looked at each other again, before simultaneously going,

"Yeah..?"

Lea giggles even more- Lea, the Legendary Stalker- was giggling like a schoolgirl before them. They thought that they must've passed out and started dreaming or something. She saunters over, wiping another tear or two before wrapping her arms around their necks, pulling them together into a half-hug.

"You idiots..." I all she mutters as her hold tightens, each boy leaning into her shoulder and peering at the other in confusion first, then smiling in wonder.

---------------------------------------------

Another hour passes quick as seconds for the group; sharing cake, small stories, and even a few laughs. They've never been this close, this vulnerable- with her at least.

Lea was all business, a serious face and a constant expression that deters. Carlo would bet that nobody's seen her in such a way, no one in Krat, and Romeo would bet that the reason for that was because it was reserved for those closest to her.

Both reveled in the feeling of honor to have been subjected to this 'her' regardless.

"Oh- I nearly forgot. Carlo?" Romeo gestures to him, and after a set of looks he nods,

"Oh yes! The gift!" He laughs, practically skipping with energy towards the small box in the corner of the room. Lea tilts her head, raising a brow while her eyes bounce from Carlo to Romeo,

"Gift? Don't tell me-"

"it isn't a birthday without at least one gift, is it?" Carlo asks paired with a wide smile, placing the gift in his teacher's lap. The boys watch, each with an eager expression that communicated the 'go on' they wished to say. Lea smirks, shaking her head before gently opening the box.

Within laid a sleeve, one fitting for a vinyl and only that. It was slightly damaged, scratched a bit scuffed in one area, slightly bent inward in another. It was light tan in color, a blank canvas for any artist's influence. Lea looked up from where the cover laid on her lap and at the boys responsible,

"You... A vinyl sleeve? What for?" She inquired, and Romeo giggled in response,

"What else for? The vinyl we've got! The tune we recorded not too long ago!" He smiles, turning his head to Carlo beside him and pointing, "Which by the way... Have I told you how absolutely smashing you are on the Piano?"

Carlo smiles and scoffs, hiding the blush dusting on his pale cheeks,

"Only a million times... Besides, it wouldn't have been complete without your Cello."

"Annndd you're violin." Romeo turns the compliment to Lea, whose eyes are wide with surprise. They begin to soften, and both Romeo and Carlo nod and walk to her, pointing and poking at the cover, a mess of 'we can draw here...', 'mark our names here...'. Lea watches as they brainstorm, seeming content enough to just let them spew whatever ideas they like, only chiming in for little details and slight tweaks.

For a moment she thinks, for a moment, it's as if all of her worries and troubles were gone, and the only things that existed were these two bright young men before her.

Her students, her family.

And thus, the record was housed.

Romeo drew roses about the edges of the sleeve, some messier than others, but overall delivering the message.

Lea adds on details, like a leaf or a bush here and there, a swoop there and a swoop here, all in compliment to Romeo's doodles.

Carlo writes right in the middle the title of the tune; "Survivor". His writing is smooth and elegant, the calligraphy refined and practiced in every word. He writes his name in the left corner, just "Carlo" in a similar but more casual script, and he passes the quill to his friends.

Friends, Family, the people he loved and who loved him back.

With Romeo and Lea's name written near his, the sleeve is complete, making a cover fit for their tune.

It was messy, it was colorful, it was unique, and it was theirs.

Lea hangs it on the wall beside her bed in the bedroom, Carlo and Romeo already passed out in the chairs at the center table; Romeo snores, recklessly leaned back against the chair, while Carlo remains quiet with his head laying over his folded arms. Lea smiles, opting not to wake them quite yet, instead taking it all in.

Taking them in, and under her gentle wing rather than below her critiquing sword. For in this moment, they were her baby chicks and not her soldiers.

---------------------------------------------

A/N: A cute Lies of P Fic, Catch! So I finished Overture and I was upset and hated it (it was amazing and I'm obsessed with the lore and characters) After the ending ripped my heart out, cut it into pieces, and put it back inside of me, I decided to do what writers do and be extremely delusional, put it into words, and post it while I act like I'm ok! It's also teeny tiny practice for how I wanna write these characters in that longer fic that I'm planning- and with that in mind I actually really enjoyed exploring these characters and their dynamic! Super fun write, and I hope it's just as fun of a read! Enjoy!!!

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Gortash Musings 4

Content Warning: mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Briefly. Lots of mentions of racism to Tieflings, and briefly mentioned racism to half orcs and other races.

His first child stirs some whispers. At first people speculated that his wife was unfaithful. As their daughter grows, his features become too apparent for anyone to believe it. Then they speculate that either he or his wife has some warlock pact with a devil. It's too close to the real story for Enver to be comfortable, and he carefully runs some propaganda pieces about local Tieflings, along with putting an "interesting fact" section in the Baldur's Gate Gazette that he makes sure runs some articles about how tiefling features can be dormant for many generations. And if he stretches the truth to make it sound like over twenty generations can pass before a tail appears in a lineage, well, the average citizen needn't know.

Propaganda is one of his favorite weapons, and this is one of his first instances using it to benefit someone who isn't directly him. His daughter is too young to speak a full sentence, let alone comprehend things like racism or prejudice, and he'd rather fix some racial issues in his city before she grows too big to stay ignorant.

It doesn't stop him from holding his infant on his lap while reading aloud his latest piece of pro tiefling propaganda. He only does stories like this perhaps once a week, as flooding the paper with too many at once would arouse suspension particularly from the more anti tiefling residents.

"Look here, Ember. Our newest resident wizard who has taken up residence in the lower formerly known as Lorroakan's Tower. Right after discovering that the degenerate was lying about the majority of his conquests, and exposing him as an abusive employer." Enver cooed, pointing at the portrait of Rolan.

Ember patted the image, grunting out a few syllables, then reached up to gently pat her own horns. "Mine."

Enver nodded, "Yes, he has lovely horns, just like you! I'd say yours are nicer though. You'll have more volume than him as you get older, if those secondary horns coming in behind your primary horns are any indication."

Ember patted her horns again, giggling.

He held her a little closer, nuzzling into her head. "That's my girl, beautiful, just like her mother."

When his second child arrives, he's not surprised this time. He expected the horns and tail. His wife had even purchased a few onesies with a hole for a tail to go and little sleep caps with button flaps for horns to fit through. The court however, seems to be even more shocked with a second child born with fiend blood.

His wife does her best to ignore them. Enver works overtime to ensure that she can afford that luxury. He appoints that Rolan fellow as his courts official authority on the arcane, hires more tieflings in the flaming fist, hells, he even puts together a small team of flaming fist made up almost entirely of Tieflings, half orcs, dragon born, and other looked down upon races whose specific job it is to serve as law enforcement in the lower city. He emphasizes that their goal is to protect and assist the people there, something these recruits love because most of them are from the lower city.

It's a first in the city's history, as the flaming fist have never been used to help anyone other than the upper class, something he can even remember his parents complaining about when he was a boy. The people's taxes partially paid for the flaming fist but reaped no benefit from them. They didn't help with any crimes not directly affecting a noble or wealthy citizen.

It's a stark change for the city, and one he does hear the occasional complaint about from different nobility. To his surprise, his wife's tongue proves faster than his whenever she hears them.

Some human noblewoman had raised her voice slightly to ensure most in the room would hear it. "The lower city has taken care of itself since our glorious city was founded! Why they suddenly need the protection of the flaming fist, I will never understand. And the gall to ask for their own private sect of Flaming Fist? Why, given how the peasants behave, I won't be surprised if after a month of being directly policed, the entirety of the lower city has relocated from the slums to the cells of Wyrm's Rock!"

"They could fill a library with all the things you don't know, Lady Greymoore." His wife's voice is cold, cutting, a tone he had never heard from her before. Her voice has always been either shy or kind when speaking to him. It is maternal and warm when addressing their children. It has been fearful, joyous, and annoyed. Never this. "In fact they do! They call them libraries."

Lady Greymoore flushes, which surrounding nobles chuckle.

"And a piece of information for you, free of a trip to the aforementioned library, it is not gall to accept the protection of a civic police force that your taxes pay." His wife continues. "However, speaking so cruely of the largest population of our city? Criticizing my husband's work when you stand in his home, eat his food, drink his wine? All while your husband collects his income from dues of the merchant guilds his great great grandfather grandfather founded... That's gall."

Laughter fades as his wife glares at Lady Greymoore, her eyes cutting the woman just as sharply as her words. Lady Greymoore's husband walks over, taking her arm and roughly leading her away. No doubt because the oaf owes Enver quite a bit of money, and doesn't want him to come collecting anytime soon.

The party goes on, the awkward moment eased away with wine and dance.

Enver takes the chance to take his own wife by her arm, gently guiding her out onto the dancefloor. He has always been attracted to his wife, she's a beautiful woman. He's a man who enjoys women. He's never been shy about telling her what he thinks of her looks, as he knows how to charm women. When she started to show during her first pregnancy, he felt a different type of attraction. A possessive type. She was waddling around his castle, clothed in dresses his wealth bought, wearing jewles he had gifted her, his hair growing inside her. He had scarcely been able to keep his hand off of her during either pregnancy. When she gave birth, he'd been impressed with her strength and how focused she'd been. When he saw her mothering their children with such attentiveness and patience... An attraction he's too scared to call love had blossomed as well.

But now?

Seeing her humiliate someone in public with wit and vicious fury? Bane, grant him self control, he wishes he could have her on one of the tables dotting the sides of the ballroom.

"You want to dance?" His wife asks, concern in her eyes. "You danced with me once earlier, won't this hurt your knee?"

He scoffs, having left his cane at their table. "I know my own limitations."

"Of course!" She says quickly. "I don't ever want you to feel I'm trying to control you."

He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't if you tried."

She smiles back as he begins to lead her in a calm waltz. "I know. And I wouldn't want to. Watching you stride on your own is far too inspiring of a sight."

Now that does catch his attention. "Oh?"

"Don't act shocked. Your mind is a wonderful thing, Enver." She says softly. "And all you've done for this city is amazing. People feel safer now, more trusting of you than they've ever felt of the Dukes. And with good reason! You're helping people..."

He is. He's aware of the effects of his policies. It's just not the main intention. The intention is to make sure his heirs can rule easier once he is gone. But no one need know that. Even his darling little wife.

[m0n0morph]

Tontu Lore

Profile and description

Tontu is an explorer of the cosmos, what is he looking for one may ask, no one really knows. His calm and almost peaceful and kind looking demeanour and very inaccurate to his actual personality. Essentially Tontu is an asshole but he uses his majestic appearance to seem as though he is a wise teacher of magic. Don’t be fooled by him though, he’s not afraid of getting his hands dirty, after all the ends justify the means.

Tontu is considered a young adult by the Kabii although he is over a hundred years old. He is shorter than average and has peach coloured skin with white markings around his eyes that reveal his status as a royal magic user to other Kabii. He wears a traditional wizards hat with matching coloured shoes and white gloves. He has large moth wings with short tails, the upper part is a brilliant blue colour that matches his eyes and the lower part is a slightly dull light purple. Finally he has two large bipectinate antennas that complete his odd appearance of a moth. He can be seen holding a staff that helps him channel magic.

Gender: he/him

Sexuality: gay

Absolute Control

Tontu’s backstory and why he is the way he is before meeting the main cast

Origin

Tontu grew up on the planet Taphino [see:The planet Taphino and the Kabii] as one of the leaders children along with his older sister. He is was never overly remarkable among his species, he mainly focused on learning magic specifically runes, alchemy and curses and although he was among the greatest this was never enough for him. He longed to leave the colony and explore the space beyond the planet, the books and scrolls he read only gave him a taste of something he wanted to devour.

Being the second son he was not set to inherit his mother’s position of power, rather his older sister was. He was not jealous of this and preferred not having to spend hours studying politics like she did. He felt bad that his sister had to do all this work for a position she was not that interested in, she was a trouble maker through and through and hated wasting time reading instead of having fun, but she still understood the importance of her position and tried hard to make her mother proud.

Closer to the time she was to inherit her mother’s title she came to Tontu in a frenzy, she had done something and got in trouble, enough trouble to have her position as future leader in jeopardy. After confiding with Tontu the two came up with a plan, they were going to sneak in on the next meeting of the leaders to see if they can learn what she can do to fix her mistake and make it up to them.

Using Tontu’s magic the siblings turned invisible and snuck into a meeting where they learned of the destruction of The Ancients by Eclipse Knight and that the universe is now safe for them to travel, but stayed there since they refused to tell the population of this to keep their power.

In their anger the siblings confronted their mother during the meeting. Both their mother and the rest of the leaders were outraged at the two young spies and demanded that they are captured and held prisoner to stop them from releasing the truth.

With the help of his sister Tontu was able to escape but she was taken and now off world for the first time knew he couldn’t leave her behind but did not have enough power to save her himself.

He needed someone with power to help him, someone like Eclipse Knight.

The Ends Justify the Means

Among the vastness of the world beyond Taphino, Tontu would meet the strangest creatures and people, he was not used to seeing other species outside of the Kabii and would find joy in the diversity of the universe.

Kabii were viewed as an older and wise species that was nearing extinction and thus others believed Tontu to be a wise scholar of magic thanks to his highly advanced knowledge. Tontu would use this perception of him to gain insight about the world and would soon find a friend in a strange creature named Chorus, who was curious in learning magic from him. he would tell her of Eclipse Knight and his power as a being of awe, neither fully understanding his hate and true fury.

Together they discovered the first peice of the Equinox key, a part of the artifact that was sealing Eclipse Knight away. The duo believed this to be a sign and searched for the rest of the artifact but were struck down by a mysterious force and found themselves crash landing on planet Popstar. Together they both convinced four of the residents there to help them find the rest. Chorus told them that Eclipse Knight was a Mighty warrior that was trapped and they want to free them to help protect the galaxy from evil. Although Tontu agreed with her he had his own darker reasons for freeing Eclipse Knight. His power would be able to destroy the leaders that captured his sister, he hated them with his whole being and wanted them to know his suffering.

He manipulated the kind people of Popstar to realease Eclipse Knight, he didn’t care how he did it, as long as he got there then it would all be worth it.

[urmultideadfandomperson]

Random Facts about Dahlia Rosenheim

(have a chart, too, inspired by @amber-of-tharaval :D)

Dahlia's surname is completely coincidental. V (the creator aka me, since that is my initial) just thought of the surname in the middle of a blackout in school. Assuming it was original, V takes Rosenheim as Dahlia's surname. One day, when she randomly searched up 'Rosenheim' in Google, she discovered it was actually an existing city in Germany.

Dahlia is unsurprisingly named after a flower. Her mother always loved flowers, especially dahlias. Therefore when Dahlia was born, her mother named her after the flower.

Dahlia's main occupation is a lawyer. She works in her own law office, formerly working under her uncle's law firm. She owns a rice business to invest money faster, advised by her mother.

Dahlia's income per month is 200K-300K. During harvest months, it can reach a million.

Dahlia prioritizes the things that she love such as her family and friends. But as a Christian, she always puts God first.

Dahlia once wanted to be a psychiatrist, knowing that mental health nowadays is completely overlooked by many. But she stopped achieving the dream when she discovered their monthly income.

People would most likely know her by 'Atty. Rosenheim' than her own name.

Whenever it came to the seven deadly sins, Dahlia's main enemy is envy. Her second is lust.

Dahlia was formerly twenty-two (22) years old. But due to her experience with past lovers, V changed her age to twenty-four (24) years old.

Dahlia is a huge Swiftie. Her favorite album is 1989 and her favorite song is 'this is me trying'.

Dahlia uses a lot of skincare products. Those are cleanser, moisturizer, sunblock, face mist, and cherry lip balm.

Dahlia's body is slightly chubby. She also has stretch marks.

Dahlia's breasts are lower than average. At often times, especially when in the beach, Dahlia feels insecure.

But then she hears from her friends with a bust that they suffer from huge breasts. Suddenly, she is thankful.

Dahlia's family is complete. Her parents are alive and well, and she loves her siblings with all her heart. They also have a pomeranian dog.

Dahlia has siblings! She is the eldest of them all. She has a younger brother named Ray (middle child) and a younger sister named Sapphire (youngest child).

Dahlia loves all animals, though she prefers dogs over cats.

Dahlia loves mathematics, and her intelligence in school is rather high according to her classmates.

Dahlia is a huge bookworm. She owns many novels in her shelf. Her favorite genres are fantasy and mystery. Romance is a subgenre for her.

In personality, Dahlia is in between extroversion and introversion. However, she leans more of being an introvert. Therefore her MBTI is INFP-T.

Dahlia likes to cook at times when she is by herself in RILM. She is especially proud when she cooks Filipino cuisines.

Dahlia is a huge sweet tooth. She loves to eat a lot of sweets.

Dahlia's body isn't entirely flexible. In fact, she is quite stiff. This can be noticed whenever she dances.

Speaking of dancing, it may not look like it but Dahlia loves to dance. She loves to imagine she is in a ballroom, dancing with grace and passion. She often laughs during dance practices.

Dahlia can play instruments. She is great at both the guitar and piano, though she much prefers to play the guitar.

Dahlia's guitar is inherited from her father.

Dahlia knows how to do Muay Thai. Muay Thai is a martial arts in Thailand, one of the most deadliest martial arts. Her father wanted to help her learn self-defense, and Muay Thai was perfect. In fact, Muay Thai is suitable for small people.

Dahlia's voice is mildly deep compared to other women. Her voice is also soft and gentle.

It is rare to see Dahlia angry. And if she is, beware not to push her buttons.

Dahlia is lowkey into science and technology, even archeology! She loves to see such historical items and new inventions that can help today's society.

Dahlia can fluently speak Filipino. She also once tried to learn Japanese in Duolingo. However, she stopped during her lesson in directions.

Dahlia learned Russian in Duolingo before she switched to Japanese. She cannot catch up with the information and difficult words.

Dahlia is often mistaken to be an earth sign due to her appearance. When in reality, she is actually a water sign. Her personality explains it all.

Dahlia, although she is very embarrassed and ashamed, Dahlia has higher than average libido. This is because (tw. implied early exposure) Dahlia's cousin introduced her to those things at a young age. Her cousin was still a vibe, though since they get along very well.

Speaking of the past lovers, Dahlia has four exes. Three of them were serious, and one was only a fling that lasted for only four months. (This will be elaborated in a future post.)

Just like most of the girls, Dahlia is a delulu.

Dahlia's face shape is a diamond, eye shape is upturned, lip shape and eyebrows are thin, and eyelashes are quite long.

Dahlia has a small circle of friends. Her best friend is Zarnaih Marchessa (Zarnaih belongs to @naihhhhe, my bestie <3)

Despite drinking milk everyday in the mornings (she prefers chocolate milk), Dahlia is still short in height. She always questions herself about this.

Dahlia's love languages are acts of service and words of affirmation. She likes to receive physical touch and words of affirmation.

Dahlia and V know each other. The character and the creator bond together a lot, making them close.

Okay, this is a lot or information about her. This is enough for now. She has more, but I guess this will be good. Thank you for reading!

[woodblxssomcrowned]

Eight gates, Chakra level, Byakugo seal- Brain storming (Just dumping throughts and WIP headcanons)

Shinobi are by default only capable of using around 20% of the total amount of chakra they have in their bodies, and are prevented by the 'Eight Gates' from accessing the additional 80%.

Using up the 20% that you have accessible will make you feel weakened, fatigued, and maybe even drop unconscious, as your body will shut itself down in an attempt at protecting itself and the chakra it stores to keep you alive.

There are exceptions, as moments of stress and desperation may cause the First or even the Second of the Eight Gates to open subconsciously in order to allow for a brief surge of strength and power. A lot of shinobi open the first and maybe even the second gate at some point in their life without even realizing it.

Opening the Eight gates consciously is intentionally difficult, as they are not meant to be opened. A person's body will be created to be capable of physically enduring the 20% of the chakra one can consciously access, but not more than that. Accessing more though forcing the seals of the Eight gates open will cause the body to gradually break apart and eventually die. Many can survive 30% to 40%, even 50%, and for a little bit the act of releasing the gates will numb one's sense of pain, fear and consequential thinking, but will ultimately suffer exhaustion and injuries that may range from minor and treatable, to permanently debilitating. Just as a visualization I will refer to chakra as points.

An average shinobi's total chakra level is around 100p, and their accessible level is 20p.

Ōtsutsuki Clan descendants typically have higher than average chakra levels. The Senju rank between 200-300p, with accessible level being 40-60p.*

The Uchiha clan rank between 150-250p, with accessible being 30-50p, but their chakra is also very potent and tends to be more equivalent to 200-300p or more.* (*Exceptions for higher or lower levels may vary depending on individual and genetics.)

Hashirama's level is way too high, but for visuals and just this post we'll say that his rank is 1500p, with 400p accessible to him. (It is possible that his regenerative abilities allows him to open up the eight gates and tap into even more without harming himself in the process, by simply healing whatever injuries he sustains.)

Kichiro ranks at 500p thanks to being a pseudo jinchuriki, with 100p accessible.

Kaname and Danma both ranks slightly above 300p, with 60p accessible.

It is worth noting that even the ~20p level available for average shinobi, they can still muster quite powerful techniques, but their accessible chakra will simply be depleted faster.

Now onto the Byakugo seal/Strength of a Hundred Seal /Yin-Seal

The Byakugo seal is an advanced sealing and chakra channeling technique that allows the user to store additional chakra at a specific point on their body by gradually directing certain amounts of their accessible 20% and maintaining it there for an extended period of time.

By the time the seal is completed and will manifest visually on ones body, an amount equal to an individuals' accessible 20% of chakra times 100 will be stored within it.

In the WS!AU, this means that once Kaname completed her byakugo seal, she has her roughly 300p total chakra within her body, of which about 60p are accessible for her, along with the additional whopping 6000p worth of chakra stored within the seal.

This technically puts her among the individuals of her clan with the highest levels of chakra, which are her father, her uncle, and her mother (who also has the seal). And to a sensor who is unawares of the seal, she will light up like a Christmas tree and seem far more powerful than she actually is. Only individuals with techniques like the Byakugan will be able to tell that the chakra that radiates off her isn't in fact circulating through the pathways the way it should normally and does for her father and uncle, but is instead concentrated to a single abnormal point on her body. Even sensors of her uncle's caliber can only sense that it is her chakra, and a whole lot of it.

A drawback of this is that she can't suppress the chakra within the seal to try and hide herself from sensors. It will be there no matter what she does unless she completely drains the seal.

This being said, even though Kaname's chakra level is technically higher with the seal, she will still not be able to use it however she wants. Her body is still only built to handle around 60-80p of chakra surging through her at once. If she attempted to release even half of the 6000p stored in the seal she would die instantly. And, unlike the eight gates, the byakugo seal will not instinctively block you from pulling too much chakra from it, and it does nothing to numb the user's sense of pain if they were to force too much chakra through their system. Injuries that a user of the eight gates may be temporarily capable of brushing off would likely incapacitate a byakugo user very quickly.

Because of this, the byakugo seal requires great chakra control not just to create and use efficiently, but also to use safely. Historically, a number of shinobi met a very quick and gruesome end after spending years obtaining the seal, only to get overconfident and pulling too much chakra from it at once.

(Tsunade found a way of bypassing this when she created the "creation rebirth" technique, and it's derived jutsus. She simply heals any injuries her body sustains from the excessive amounts of chakra as they appear with that very same chakra. )

So, even though Kaname can't use techniques as powerful as her father or uncle's, she can in theory make about 100 60p attacks by utilizing the chakra in the seal. And that is still pretty insane.

[lady-phasma]

Do you believe Aemond is a Valyrian Supremacist? He models Daemon so much in his focus on Valyrian history, dragons, Targaryen blood etc, that to me I feel as though he must to some extent believe Targaryen's to be superior? I see alot of people defending him on the basis he isn't, but... I just don't see why Aemond of all characters wouldn't have feelings of superiority based on his blood? Extending from that, do you think he would have preferred to wed a Targaryen woman? We get a glimpse he feels that way from the TV show, but in the circumstances he had another sister instead of Helaena, surely he would have been betrothed to her/wanted to be? I just truly cannot see him as being free of "bigotry" in regards to seeing non- Valyrians as below him. Like? Isn't that the point of him hating Rhaneyra's sons? Because they are bastards from a lower House?

This is a really great ask, anon. Thank you for asking me. But of course, you asked me, so it’s no surprise that I will give a very me answer.

First, I really dislike having that phrase Valyrian Supremacist on my blog. I only have it one other time that I can remember and that was also an ask. Briefly, I’ll tell you why: it is a 20th-21st century Earth term that may not have been present in Westeros. If we are discussing in-universe theory and not literary/film theory then I choose to avoid it.

This may get long but I want to be as clear as possible: I only slightly agree with you. If we grant the premise, that he models parts of his personality after Daemon (which is a difficulty premise to grant in its entirety), then I would say that his Targaryen side would value that heritage to a degree. However, he cares deeply for his entire family and that includes the Hightowers. His last name is Targaryen, but let’s not forget he is also a Hightower. I think great houses/names are very important to royalty in Westeros, Aemond included. Hightowers are certainly not lowborn.

Trying to go in the same order as your questions, I would say next that all descendants of Valyria may feel superior because of history and dragon lore. I can never overlook House Velaryon in these discussions. They also have immense pride in their heritage and name. However, when you say “Aemond of all characters” I wonder exactly why he stands out as someone for whom this pride seems more important. If we examine his actions in season one and in the book, I think we can see that his character is no more or less concerned with it than the average character.

If he were more concerned with Targaryen blood and that pride fueled his decisions, what would that say about Alys Rivers? I think most fans who haven’t read the book know a little about her, but for those who don’t she was a bastard Aemond took as a “war bride.” Regardless of whether or not she bewitched him, we can’t talk about his life as a whole without mentioning her and their relationship. If she did, we aren't told at exactly what point that happened. He wasn't above sex with non-Targaryens.

Since it was first uttered, I have been obsessed with his line “I would perform my duty, if mother had only betrothed us.” Leo Ashton delivered it with such sincerity and commitment that it is hard to argue against Aemond’s devotion to his family (not discussing any specific romantic ships here). As we know, royalty and aristocracy in Westeros get very little choice in who they wed. The hypothetical “if he had another sister” is interesting because that marriage would, ultimately, be decided by Viserys and Alicent.

Such a betrothal would have been seen as a duty and honorable, so I have no doubt that Aemond would have agreed. I don’t know that anyone would disagree that Aemond puts his family above everything else. Thus, I have yet to see in the series direct bigotry from him. Factually, with no nuance, the issue with Rhaneyra’s sons is illegitimacy. Every character may have a different interpretation as to how this effects the line of succession and only a few state it explicitly in the series. I would argue that Aemond doesn’t care that their father isn’t Laenor Velaryon when he first calls them bastards. Children at that age might not really comprehend the ramifications of that accusation (I think we see clearly that Aegon doesn’t). Aemond first dislikes his nephews because they were cruel to him. Yes, his brother was as well. The Pink Dread was seemingly almost entirely Aegon’s idea, but siblings often forgive each other more readily than they may forgive outsiders.

In Fire & Blood we get a clear picture of how much his animosity and resentment fuel his actions:

One by one, every man and boy with Strong blood in his veins was dragged forth and put to death, until the heap made of their heads stood three feet tall.

I do not think this action was about bloodlines or heritage. I believe this was entirely revenge. By this point in the Dance, Aemond is furious and nearly crazed by his need to avenge the wrongs done to his family. I don’t think it was an attempt to annihilate the Strong bloodline, but a show of force and power. Aemond is formidable, rash, and still young enough to not care about consequences. Perhaps you have noticed I skipped over the direct slight against him. Lucerys altered Aemond’s life irrevocably. Had this same mutilation happened to a low born boy, he would have had no future at all in Westeros. Aemond’s lifestyle was only salvaged because he is royalty and through determination of will.

Would the loss of an eye, the murder of one’s young nephew (Prince Jaehaerys), and the maiming of one’s brother cause a young prince to go nearly mad with rage and the need for revenge? I believe so. By this point in the Dance, further along than I think you asked about, Targaryen heritage is probably the last thing on Aemond’s mind. I have no doubt that he was raised to believe that dragons, the throne, and many other things make Targaryens better. But we should never discount his mother’s influence. This man loves her dearly and Alicent may provide some balance in his understanding of things. My headcanon about his religion (not particularly relevant here) comes from the canon that Alicent has a strong faith in the Seven. I think this has a deep effect on Aemond and could influence whether or not Targaryen blood is paramount to him.

Lastly, I wanted to address this statement:

I see a lot of people defending him on the basis he isn’t

I assume that you use “defending” in the sense that these fans attempt to separate him as somehow immune to this pride or better than other Targaryens. I don’t know that I have read exactly the defenses you’re referencing, but I will be clear: this is not a discussion of fanfiction. If that is an element of a work of fanfiction, then by all means, go for it. It doesn’t seem plausible, however, that anyone of Valyrian descent is immune to this type of indoctrination.

[stinmybubs]

"Jewelry Box." Fantasy AU Pt.1

AN: A lil somethin somethin! Will be the only series I will work on rn! Summary: Fighting to succeed to the throne, you do everything in your power to become the next ruler of the Caataeta Empire. Even if meant cursing yourself with a power that secures your throne. You wish for no lover, just people you can help you chip away the curse that's killing you, and to secure your empire. You need husbands, wives. A Jewelry Box.

AFAB! Reader x a series of characters.

LGBTQ+ female readers ! There will be WLW in this!

Prologue

Your body convulsed in pain. You could feel your lungs begin to burn and your eyes begun to sting. Tears slipping through your eyes as your body tried it’s best to recover from the curse. You let gasps and pants as you collapsed to the concrete floor of the castle dungeon.

“Ack-!” Blood beginning to flood out your mouth. You begin to feel a tinge of regret. Why did you curse yourself? Why..? Then as you remembered your reason in the first place, you picked yourself back up, desiring a greater power, your desire to succeed to the throne was greater than any pain.

You can take it. You can show them all, you can show them just how strong you can be.

“The Nasty Truth.” Pt.1

You stared at the floor of the throne room, bowing your head to your father. The great father staring at his two children, choosing the successor was obvious. Oh had he wished his son wasn’t so snobby and immature.

And he wished you weren’t a girl.

You always had grace in your step, taking after the empress. Your mother. Your mother was the most beautiful women in all of Caataeta, she was the definition of nobility and was the perfect empress.

If only your brother took after her as well. The empress had passed a year after your little brother was born, he was born when you were the age of 6 years old. He hadn’t had much time with your mother, or else he wouldn’t have turned out the way he was.

He was a playboy, your average stuck up noble clearly not fit to rule. But. He was a male, men can only truly succeed to the throne. A stupid rule, you thought, anger filling your mind and jealousy.

You had everything your brother didn’t have. You were ready to rule. You deserved to rule. Your face scrunched up in anger as you stared at the floor, quickly composing yourself realizing your mistake.

“You may lift your heads.” Your fathers booming voice echoed throughout the large room.

“Father may I excuse myself.” You keep your head lowered. Your father simply nodding you off. As soon as those doors closed you couldn’t help but scrunch you face up once more, jealousy overshadowing any reason.

The clicking of heels could be heard throughout the halls, being escorted by your personal guard and lady in waiting.

“Your highness. May I ask what’s the matter?” The familiar voice of your lady in waiting, Momo Yaoyorozu. She was the daughter of the grand duchy the house of Yoayorozu.

“Momo you are a higher status than me…no need for formalities…especially now.” You stated as you sat down in front of your vanity, ashamed of your womanly appearance.

“But I am your lady in waiting now. That puts me under you.” Momo spoke informally, happily taking your hair down from the tight bun it was in. “Oh how beautiful you look with your hair down your high-“ you quickly cut her off, loving her touch and slightly leaning into it.

“Call me (Y/n). Momo.” You grab her hand, looking back at her, placing her hand against your cheek to lean further into her warm touch. A tint of red flushed the black haired girls face. “Oh- oh my.” Momo said very flushed, not even trying to retreat her hand from you.

“Momo…why does it have to be a man to succeed the throne? Why not me..? Don’t I have everything a ruler should have?” You state, closing your eyes as you let her caress your cheek.

“Yes (Y/n). You have everything and more than the crown prince has…but this is a man’s world. Sadly.” Momo’s eyes darken, remembering if she hadn’t gotten this job as lady in waiting she would’ve been married off to some sleazy old man.

“Your highness…I must tell you how-“ Momo was interrupted by the door suddenly opening, she quickly retreated her hand. Stepping aside for you to see who it is. You were angered by this, looking at the door with a glare to see your brother standing there with the biggest smirk on his face.

“Why so angry sister!? I’ve only come to reliever good news!” He strutted into your room, collapsing onto one of the couches you had surrounding your tea table.

“Not only was I appointed crown prince, my coronation will be within the week!” He cheered. “Oh and not to mention your engagement to the hellfire kingdom! Their land will be ours!” He closed his eyes. This comment alarming you and making you shoot ip from your seat.

“What did you just say? Father would never marry me off!” You shout, quickly walking over to your arrogant brother. “Well it’s true. Go ask yourself.” He chuckled, lifting himself from wear he lie and waltzed out your door.

“Momo! Get me ready for an audience with the king immediately.” You should sitting yourself back down in your vanity seat, anger filling your body.

“But your majesty- I-…dinner is almost ready how about we wait till then? I think you should maybe take this time to think about this.” Momo could feel her heart breaking. She couldn’t bare to see you marry. It took everything in her not to beg you to leave with her. Run. Run away and never look back.

The dinner was quiet. Usually your brother would be talking on and on about his day, but for some reason he was oddly quiet.

“Daughter. You will be engaged with prince Todoroki Shouto of the hellfire kingdom.” The imperial father spoke. Ah, that’s why. You glare at your brother briefly before answering your father.

“Father! I assure you there is no need to marry me off to such a small kingdom! Surely I -“ you were cut off by a loud booming yell of the imperial father “SILENCE. You will do as your told and marry the prince. Honestly I expected more out of you then to talk back to your father in such a way.” He shouted. His voice immediately filling your body with fear, you stayed silent for a minute before finally answering your father with a semi- shaken voice.

“Yes father.” You lower your head in shame.

“Honestly sister you should know your place as a women. Simple, this connection to the hellfire kingdom will help expand our empire!” He laughed, clearly enjoying this.

“Father may I be excused.” You don’t entertain your foul brother.

“You may.” With that you sat up, Momo following behind. Your face turning into a scowl as you left the dinning hall. Thinking how stupid you are for thinking you can change his mind.

This is a man’s world, after all.

AN: I hope you all enjoy this! I figured that this was a long part so you we’ll get more to the action in the second <3 thank you all so much for reading and giving my posts so much love. Xoxo Stinmybubs.

[ask-missparker]

Okay, who’s driving? ~ Marvel Blurb

Pairing: Mia x Nikolai, Liane x Ethan, Rick x Luna, Cole x Jeremy

Friendship pair: Josh & Bella

Summary: Moments like this the universe just wants to make it harder on us. In other words, they should’ve just called Cole…

Other characters included/mentioned: Rochelle, Michelle, Cole, Rick and Luna

~~

Warning: Slight small mention of labor, but it is mostly comedic relief to move the story forward more than anything else. Nothing graphic or informative or insane. So you’re fine. ANYWAYs, please chaos from the young avengers and family members enjoy 😉

Note: Sorta OUAT but also could be Marvel fic haha (depending on how you look at it 😊)

A/N: This was a fun idea that could be seen as crack too, due to how much going on in the fanfic. Please enjoy!

~~~~~

It was supposed to be a simple afternoon—well simple for the average group, due to them all hunting down the potions and stuff to stop the tide coming their way. A wicked protection spell.

You know save the day and explore that kinda thing?

So in response they were all sent a little goose chase and hunt for it at the docks.

It was good, they found the hidden gems and a piece of the puzzle to make the potion for later. Even broke half of the curse, destroying the spell, thanks to Liane, Joshua and Bella—restoring memories back for everyone. Yay, everything is safe and sound.

Just as things were going well at the docks with everyone talking and deciding to go back to the town square, Mia felt something off. She gripped Nikolai’s bicep and winced slightly.

“Love, are you alright?” He asked softly placing a hand on her lower back for support.

Mia chuckled awkwardly, “Eh, he he, well, either that was a Braxton Hick or a real one…”

“You’re a two weeks early, t-that’s not possible.” He replied in surprise, his tone sounding calm despite him internally freaking out.

“Yeah, well, since when have your children ever been one to surprise us by coming late?” She added jokingly.

Ethan, who was walking with Liane, looked up noticing his friends in distress. He knew his question would sound stupid, yet he still asked, “Are you guys alright?”

“You’re about to be an uncle again.” Mia murmured before clearing her throat once the contractions left and smiled in relief.

“Oh shit! I’mma be uncle again, I wasn’t there the first time around and now I am! This is exciting news—”

He was swiftly cut off by Nikolai who chuckled, “Uh Ethan, buddy, can you help me get everyone in the cars? Mia, where are the keys?”

Liane gasped, “You let her pregnant ass drive us to the docks?! Have you no shame?!”

“No! We took her car and I drove us here, I gave her the keys for safe keeping afterwards!”

“That still doesn’t make sense to me! You got magic and you couldn’t drive yourself!?”

“My car is getting fixed at Tony’s shop! We did needed another form of transportation here, and I will have you know I drive pretty well.”

Liane grinned, “Well in that case I’m driving! Me and the kids in one car. Ethan, Nik and Mia in the other. To the hospital people! Chop chop!”

The blonde sounded way too confident and overly proud of herself with that statement.

Everyone else looked at her like she was nuts. Yes, they were all vastly skilled in their respective fields but they all had their weaknesses. Everyone and their mother knew that Liane wasn’t the best driver per se.

Ethan loved his wife too much to say anything about it, as he was too busy in shock that Liane snatch the keys out of his hand. Joshua rolled his eyes and groaned at the idea, rubbing his mother’s shoulder in comfort. Even he was a better player in driving someone around.

Nikolai whined knowing it wasn’t the best idea to have the blonde drive both teenagers around to the hospital.

The only one truly brave enough in the chaos at the moment, despite being awakened by the curse to speak up was youngest lady there.

“Absolutely not!” Belladonna exclaimed snatching the keys out of her mom’s hands. “Are we really going to listen to her? Josh back me up here!”

Liane gasped in offensive frustration, “Um excuse you, young lady, but who do you think you’re talking to, sweetie?”

“Mom, I love you, but unfortunately you’re not the best driver.”

“I’m an experienced and excellent driver, sweetie.”

Bella muttered under her breath, “Yeah, when we were cursed and under that damn spell…”

“BELLA?!” Liane screamed in shock and gasped. “My own daughter this is—”

Joshua sighed speaking up, “Aunt Lia, she’s got a point. Last week you decided to give an another driving lesson and crash into a mailbox.”

Liane eyes widen and scoffed, “Well if I ever…it was one time!”

Joshua smirked, “It happened more than once. Also I think I should drive.”

“Him?!” Ethan yelled putting stuff in the car and bumping his head against the trunk.

“You?!” Liane added dramatically, “You’re both children you don’t even have you—”

Bella smirked as well nudging for Joshua to pull out his drivers permit, as he showed it to the others. Liane’s jaw dropped as Ethan blinked. Nikolai was rubbing his wife’s back and snickered at their reactions. He was proud.

“Since when did you-?!” Liane yelled breaking the silence.

“Back in New York, I got it.” Joshua added simply, a hint of confidence in his tone.

Bella couldn’t help but crack a smile and tease him, “Yeah, sure, it took him almost 6 months but he got it..”

Soon enough, different set of bickering broke out between the 5 of them.

“They are both babies they aren’t drive!”

“Liane not the time!”

“I can’t believe you decided to tell us now, Ethan?!”

“What you yelling at me for?!”

“I don’t know, it just feels right to yell.”

“Oh my god..”

“Are you sure we can’t all just drive together in one car?”

“Not a bad idea…out of both of us, who was the biggest space?”

“Idiot, how would that work, Nikolai?”

“I’m brainstorming, shut up.”

“Cause you guys stop fighting please? It’s not helping. I can take us three there, while Ethan gets there first.”

“Joshua, you’re a child!”

“I’m 17!”

“It was worth a shot, Bella…”

“Just let me drive!”

“Mom no!”

“Bella, please, the adults are talking.”

“You don’t even the slightest directions to the hospital!”

“THERE IS GPS FOR A REASON!”

“Shouldn’t we just call an ambulance?”

“That would take too long, Ethan!”

“Oh my goodness my nieces are gonna be born on a dock!?”

“No they ain’t!”

Mia finally shouted over everyone, “GUYS!”

“What?!” They all yelled back.

She sighed pointing to herself in a sing song tone, as if stating the obvious. “Hello.” She added hands on her hips for added effect.

The group was silent before getting the hint all making “ohhh!” and “ah, oh yeah, right.”, along with a bunch of apologies being given by the others. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and smile despite the mild pain she felt, coming and going.

Ethan spoke up as they followed the lead to the cars and asked, “Wait, wait, who’s driving?”

“I am!” Liane added, as if it was obvious.

She quickly got a bunch of objections and heads being shook in disagreement over her statement. Some rapidly shouted, “NO!”

Nikolai put a hand on his wife’s shoulder in silent support and turn to the group firmly, “Ethan’s driving us, Joshua’s driving you guys.”

“Yes!” Joshua exclaimed happily as him and Bella fist bumped.

Bella called shotgun and scurried over to the car.

Liane opened her mouth to speak wondering if Nikolai was serious or not, but one firm look from the brunette and she shut up completely.

——

———

Soon enough they all arrive to the hospital, Joshua was left to park both cars as Ethan and Liane helped Mia into a wheelchair.

Nikolai was filling out forms when he noticed their friends all there. He stood there in shock, “What hell-? How did you guys—when did you guys get here?”

Michelle smiled sitting in one of the waiting chairs, “You really think we would miss this? Dude, it’s my nieces being born. Plus it’s gives me a chance to give Alexander the middle finger if he arrives.”

“I—But I didn’t call you! No one texted you.”

Bella smirked looking up from her phone, “Oh, when Josh was driving I texted Michelle. Figured she would like to know, but I didn’t expect her to come.”

Rochelle rushed in from one of the hospital rooms and smiled, “Oh hey! You’re here, that’s great, well me and Luna were already here anyway when Michelle called me.”

Mia, who was sitting in the wheelchair rubbing her backside, was about to ask what happened when the loud screams were heard down the hall. They belonged to Rick. Along with the insults.

“Long story short, Ricky got hurt earlier while experimenting on something with the kids..” Rochelle added, “He’ll be fine.”

Bella and Mia both rolled their eyes as Nikolai stayed quiet shaking his head.

Just before anyone could anything a cloud of magical thick smoke appeared. As the smoke cleared away, it showed Cole looking annoyed, angry and worried. The man was enjoying a peaceful afternoon in his shop, with his husband Jeremy while babysitting the children, when he got the damn news. He was in the middle of teaching one of his nephews, George, some cool spells! So he wasn’t happy.

Liane froze meanwhile Ethan signed looking at his brother.

“You should’ve call me!” Cole exclaimed loudly rushing over to the group. “Why did I just get a damn text from Bella that my angels are coming?! You idiots, you could’ve just call me instead of arguing over who gets the bloody keys?! UGH!”

“Cole, we can explain.” Liane started but was cut off.

“Ha! Please tell you didn’t drive, last week you hit my mailbox.”

“THAT WAS YOURS?!”

Ethan and Michelle snorted loudly but was stopped short by a glare from Cole.

Rochelle stay quiet running away to go check on Rick and Luna, not wanting to feel Cole’s wrath today. The redhead almost bumped into a wall rushing away from the group.

Besides Rick yelled, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE?!”

Luna shouted over him, “Ricky stay still! The doctor is trying to remove the nails and splinters!”

Cole looked at Nikolai and pointed, “And you! What were you thinking?! As her husband I would believe you would have some sense to inform me or not waste time—”

Nikolai raised both eyebrows and furrow his eyebrows, “Don’t even start with me! I was more focused on my wife than calling anyone. None of us expected this to happen and we would’ve gotten here sooner, if it wasn’t for Liane’s performance.”

Liane gasped, “Me?! I offered to drive but you all refused to take me seriously.”

Bella and Ethan shared a look, slowly wheeling Mia away from the group and into her hospital room. Michelle got the hint, scurry off to follow them into the hallway as well, not without snapping pictures for blackmail later.

Joshua walked in a few minutes later, after successfully parking both cars, seeing his father, aunt and uncle Cole fighting.

“What did..?” He started before being dragged away by his best friend, “Gah, son of—!”

“Come on I’ll explain later.” Bella remarked ushering him into the room.

“Bella what did you do?!”

———

—————

Hehe I agree nothing! Also the poor mailbox 😂

Let me know what you guys think!

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel @trulysummersprivate @gaminggirlsstuff and etc

[keikokasugawitch-blog]

Echoes through you (Echoes of love)

For the KitsuMay Bingo 2025 Event hosted by @kirayukimuraappreciation

Prompt used: Family tree

Word Count: 1656 | Rating: General Audiences | Tags: Hikari Zhang's family, making up lore as I go, tooth rotting fluff (of Hikari's dad brand), explorations of love and what it means to be in love.

Warning: Not Beta read

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Hikari Zhang could almost be considered human.

Almost.

By way of technicality, she was only a quarter kitsune, so her aging is far more similar to that of a human than that of her mother. Much less if one were to compare her to her grandfather, who was a full kitsune. Her mother explained to her that her life expectancy would probably be a couple of decades above the average of a human’s life span if she didn’t learn how to fully shift into a kitsune by the time she reached a mature age.

Her grandfather, for instance, had a good millennium under his belt, give or take a couple of decades. The old man enjoyed fluctuating his shift between that of a man in his 40’s and a modest 90 years of age, his fragile bones prompted his daughter to protest whenever he did something particularly daring.

But that was the temperament of Hideki Kashiwagi. Jovial and ever the prankster.

“That old man likes to rattle my nerves, child, don’t you worry about a thing,” Nadeshiko Kashiwagi would tell her daughter from time to time. “He has nothing better to do after all.”

This would often result in the old kitsune swapping the kitchenware’s place in the house, intentionally misplacing the car keys, or replacing his daughter’s shampoo for mayonnaise. It was as if a rowdy teen lived in the body of an old man.

Whereas Hikari’s grandfather was a prankster, her mother was the model of a diplomat, if slightly more temperamental than one would assume someone in that position to be.

“That was a foul!” Regal Nadeshiko would scream whenever she believed a pitcher threw a bad ball at her daughter. “Are you blind?! Use your whistle!”

“That’s not how it works, kaa-san” Hikari would attempt to correct her after each game.

“It was such a bad technique; he was lucky you have yet to unlock your abilities.” Scoffed her mother.

This is the same woman that would later be a staunch advocate of Hikari not using her abilities to “get ahead”.

“As long as Hikari-chan had fun.” Hikari’s father reasoned, his scrunched eyes and bright smile directed then at his daughter. “Did you?”

Hikari simply nodded.

Not for the first time, the youngest of the family was left perplexed by the contrast between her parents and asked herself what it was that made them fall in love with each other.

For starters, Zhāng Yáng was an excentric man, loved a good myth and was an antique curator. He and his wife were at least two centuries apart in terms of age, and you could almost be fooled to think it was Nadeshiko who was younger, by appearance alone.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ve never told you about the night we met,” her father told her for the fifth time that month, when she had reached 13 years of age; “it was a lovely February, the plum blossoms in full bloom, your mother was looking to get this lovely inro-dokei valued. It was a thing of beaty, early 1820’s craftmanship, I believe it was her mother’s, it had a plated heron on the backside. I thought at the time she could get about 300 thousand yen out of it, on the lower side-”

Once he started, he didn’t really stop. He was passionate like that.

Hikari Zhang loves her family.

Her grandfather was always proud of her talents, especially whenever she caved and helped him prank Nadeshiko; Hideki was the one to show her just how powerful a kitsune can really be.

Nadeshiko taught her daughter control, and she emphasized not letting Hikari’s developing fox spirit overpower her will.

“The fox within us, unlike that of your grandfather, who are one in the same, has a will of its own. It will strike to protect you and its own well-being, and it is not bound by human morality.” Her mother explained when she was 11 years old and had caused minor burns to a boy that had pushed her into a puddle when she refused to give him the last red bean ice popsicle.

Earth.

Lightning.

Fire.

Those were the elements colliding withing the Zhang household.

“It is a thing of beauty, to be connected to the natural world like that,” Zhāng Yáng romanticized. His wife simply rolled her eyes at the dreamy look on her husband’s face, leaving a chaste kiss on his cheek that prompted Hideki to gag exaggeratedly and making eye contact with his granddaughter, cracking a smile.

“Were you in love with grandma, ojii-sama?” A 15-year-old Hikari asked her grandfather, without looking directly at the nine-tailed fox seated beside her.

Without opening his mouth, Hideki’s voice reverberated in the closed space of the inner garden of the main house. “I loved her as I only know how to love, she loved me, I think sometimes, far more than what I was capable of.”

That made her turn.

“What makes you say that?”

“She loved me first. I was curious. We had a child together. I devoted the rest of Aki-chi’s life to cherish her.”

To Hikari, that sounded like love.

“Your grandfather? Oh, he adored mother, you couldn’t separate the two of them.” Nadeshiko told her when she asked; she had a fond smile dancing on her face. “I do sincerely hope that I can give your father as much happiness as I saw my mother express back then.”

Hikari also wonders, walking down the halls of her prospective university, what it would be like to love someone.

She was closer to humans than any of the other kitsune on her household, and she had yet to fall in love with someone. Takeshi, the closest friend she has, and three years her senior, could’ve probably been a good candidate, were he not… himself.

“Look, I’m just saying, the guy gives me the creeps.”

Like right now, with him bitching about the newest exchange student.

“Didn’t you watch The Ring all by yourself?”

He balks at that.

“Hey, that’s not fair! That’s very much different, there is no way that that situation would ever come around, this guy is plain and simply creepy, all on his own and I’d rather he wasn’t anywhere near me.”

With how perceptive Takeshi was, Hikari wasn’t exactly surprised when a couple of months later he boldly proclaimed:

“Ugh, you are in love with that guy… we need to buy you better taste in men.”

What really gave her away was that she didn’t denied it.

She once learned that there was a language of love.

“French,” her father told her, “Or Italian, some might say. But I, of course, conquered your mother with my excellent Japanese.” He puffed out his chest at that.

“He had the thickest accent,” her mother giggled (giggled!), recounting their first meeting. “He went on a full rant about the pill clock’s history; I had to contain my amusement, since he couldn’t have known at the time that I lived through the era.”

She never thought to ask before then.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been in love before,” responds Liam Dunbar, her newest friend, and only other supernatural that Hikari knows, “didn’t end well, it was back in high school. Nothing wrong happened between us,” he hurriedly continued, when Hirari’s expression became puzzled, “she didn’t want to put her sister in danger by staying in Beacon Hills, so they moved. And I… we weren’t really fit for long distance, you know? I was only seventeen and, uh, she was my anchor,” that last part was whispered, sheepishness mixing with the fondness and anxiety that had permeated his scent just seconds before.

“Love is a choice,” her father said with conviction, when she told him that she wanted to open up a shop with Liam, “it doesn’t necessarily feel one way or the other.

“Look at your mother and I, she’s not much for PDA, but I adore it. That doesn’t mean that I love her more than she loves me. I mean, I know she loves me more than I could ever love her,” he put a hand up when his daughter went to reply, “She does. She will live far longer than me and then some and she still chose me to love, I will be a drop of water in the ocean of her life, and that is no easy thing.

“What you feel for this boy of yours, is for you to decide, not for others to define.”

Her mother insisted on meeting him before her daughter went off into the world with him.

“He has a sealed Kukan with him?”

Hikari nodded. “I can help keep it safe, my kitsune aura will mask any essence that escapes from the rowan tree container. The Kukan possessed his Alpha’s best friend when they were younger, it is a great honor to be entrusted with its safekeeping.”

“And you think a shop would be a good idea?”

The young kitsune directed a piercing look at her mother.

“The best hiding places are in plain sight.”

“We do not involve ourselves with the Kukan, they are to be balanced out by the Tengoku” intervened Hideki.

“He needs my help.” Punctuates Hikari. “And I intend to give it to him.”

Both her mother and grandfather eyed each other, appearing to hold conversations with just their looks, before her mother sighed in resignation.

“Never open its prison, do not allow yourself to become someone that the Kukan can use to bring about its seeds of chaos.”

She could not, int the end, keep her promise.

After the Nogitsune was defeated and Derek Hale’s funeral had already come to pass, she returned to her childhood home, with Liam at her side.

A loving father answered the door to receive the gift of a live and healthy daughter.

“Welcome home.”

With a tight squeeze into Liam’s warm hand, the fire kistune answered.

“I’ve always been home.”

[echomymelody]

Saki wakes up in a field of flowers.

Above her, the sky is blue and clear, without a hint of clouds.

She frowns, because she remembers, very distinctly, her mother telling her that there would be nothing but rain the next few days. But then, she also doesn’t remember falling asleep outside — not like she’d be allowed to stay out for so long, especially when the cold airs of winter hadn’t fully left and still hung over spring’s warm breezes.

Slowly, Saki sits up, feeling the cool but soft grass against the soles of her feet. There is no hint of dampness on the blades of green, a feat unusual for springtime, and she draws the conclusion that she’s dreaming.

There are a few sunflowers in front of her, swaying slightly under the influence of the gentle wind, accompanied by some tubular pink flowers, which Saki recognises to be one of the many flowers Ichika gave her a long time ago. How would she ever forget, when that was the only splash of colour in her bleak white room?

Feeling a smile form on her face, Saki picks the pink flowers up and brings them up to her nose, and a sweet scent washes over her. Weirdly enough, they smell like bubblegum.

Saki looks up, taking in the rest of the surroundings. The pasture in front of her, dotted with whites and blues and yellows and reds, seems to stretch endlessly, and curiosity gets the better of her. After placing the flowers down and getting up on her feet (and stretching out her slightly tense muscles — she’d stayed in the same position for too long), Saki steps forwards, the sun’s warm gaze draped over her.

With every new step, her curiosity grows, and restlessness crawls up her limbs. Not the nervous, uneasy kind, but the kind that excites her, that makes her want to run until she feels like she’s flying, free of any worries and doubt.

And so, Saki starts to run. The faint wind brushes against her cheeks, a cool contrast to the sun’s warmth. She feels her hair flowing behind her, twin tails fluttering in the air. Her heart rate increases, and she feels it thudding against her chest as she runs. Her breathing picks up its pace, and she feels her smile widening, tugging at the edge of her lips.

She feels so alive and free.

Around her, as she runs, the world turns into a blur of emerald green, accompanied by streaks of red and yellow and blue. Colours fly alongside her, twisting and turning and blurring into one as she picks up her speed. Joy blooms from Saki’s chest, and she continues to run, her body light and her eyes bright, without a care in the world.

Two — or three — minutes pass before Saki has to slow to a stop, panting heavily with her hands on her knees. After all, the human body has its limits, and her limits are lower than average, as much as she wishes it weren’t. Sweat trickles down her face, and she blinks rapidly to get the droplets off her eyelashes.

Ahead, there’s a pond, brilliant blue and still, only interrupted by the circles of ripples caused by the soft wind. White figures are scattered on the waters and the grass around the pond, and Saki, after her heartbeat returns to a calmer pace, makes her way over to it.

Closer up, Saki realises that the white figures form the shape of paper cranes. Some of them are crooked, folded with presumably unsteady fingers. Others look to be folded swiftly, with a precision that only came from repeated practice.

Noticing how some of the cranes have things scribbled on them, Saki sits down by the pond and gently picks up the closest one by her. She unfolds the crane, and takes in a surprised breath as she recognises what’s written on the paper — her own bucket list she’d made years ago, on what she wished to do when she was able to leave the hospital. Most of the items on this list have been checked off, and there are countless exclamation marks and all sorts of happy emoticons doodled around the list.

A few more paper cranes drift towards Saki, with similar scribbles and stickmen doodles on them. Like before, she unfolds the cranes, and scans over the lines with a happy grin on her face. Out of the hundred wishes she’s written, ninety-five of them have been ticked off, and she’s already working towards fulfilling the remaining five wishes of hers.

And yet, Saki feels her eyes getting wet as she stares at the first wish she’s crossed out — to be able to leave the hospital. Barely more than a year had passed since she’d been discharged, but oh, that felt such a long time ago! And in the year since her release, she’d been living life to the fullest, trying new things she’d never had the chance to do, and creating so many precious memories she’ll forever hold dear to her heart.

Blinking the tears away, Saki looks up again, trying to see what memories the other paper cranes hold. She reaches out, and nearly manages to pick up another crane just before an abnormally strong gust of wind blows past her. Yelping in shock, Saki draws away from the pond, and stares in wonder as the cranes in front of her begin to fly.

The wind lifts the cranes up from the pond, and they swirl up into the sky. Some cranes become unfolded, revealing the secrets hidden in them. Saki catches glimpses of music scores, with multicoloured circles and handwritten notes on them. Those must be her compositions, Saki realises, and even from her spot on the ground, she recognises her best friends’ handwritings. Ichika’s written some lyrics on her music sheets in blue, and Honami’s red pen had added some notes here and there, some of her neat words intersected by Shiho’s small but precise green circles.

There’s also cranes folded from her school notes, some decorated with doodles and Ichika’s handwriting as the two of them not-so-discreetly passed notes during last year’s classes, others with Shiho’s and Emu’s, as well as some assessments — she embarrassingly recognises the first assessment she’d ever had, where she barely scraped by with a pass.

The wind blows against her face, causing her hair to fly wildly in the air, and Saki grins widely, her heart bursting with elation. In just a year, she’s been able to do so much, and she’s had so, so much fun. Her body feels light and giddy with joy, and even as hair strands poke at her eye, she brushes them away, a bright, wide smile on her face.

She’s free.

(cross posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55774057

[41319kbex]

Hell Hath No Fury (6/?)

Thank you to all who made it through the most case-heavy chapter I think I’ve ever written! But as so many of you have been kind enough to point out, it was necessary to get to this point in the story…which I hope you will all enjoy, and maybe see as a bit of a payoff for sticking around past the last chapter!

Thank you for all the reviews and kind words, and especially to those who reviewed as a guest that I wasn’t able to thank personally.

Unfortunately, I still don’t own Castle…

xxxxx

Stepping out of her car in the driveway of a huge house, Beckett only had a second to take in the view before a sharp pain shot through her side. Nearly 3 hours in a car with 2 badly broken and 1 slightly fractured rib had not been the best choice; then again, she realized as far as bad choices go, she’d made a lot worse recently. She leaned forward with her forearms bracing herself against the car and had to take a few moments to breathe and try to stretch out just a little before she could stand completely upright again and shut the door.

As she slowly walked around to the trunk of her car, she had time to finally really take in the full view of his house. Damn, Castle…you rich or something? Of course, she’d known he was well-off…the way he dropped money so freely, had so easily dropped 100 grand at the shot to catch her mother’s killer like it was not much more than a penny to him. But seeing this house that was borderline mansion territory really kind of smacked her in the face with his wealth.

She grabbed her bag with her left hand out of habit and instantly dropped it, wincing in pain and grabbing at her ribs. Right side, Kate…you can only lift with your right side. Granted, she’d been told she wasn’t supposed to lift anything at all, but she wasn’t about to not carry her own bag inside. She’d honestly fought with herself over whether to leave her bag in the car, just in case she decided she didn’t want to stay; she’d decided instead to go ahead and carry it inside. She could leave it at the door and make it clear to him she wasn’t agreeing to stay yet; she just didn’t want to have to go back out to her car to get the bag if her decision was yes.

She waited another moment for the pain to subside a little before grabbing her bag with her right hand this time. It was still painful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage as she made her way to the door and knocked. When the door opened and she saw Castle standing there, the pain in her side was momentarily forgotten…because he looked better than he had in the hospital; he looked almost, almost like himself again. And she’d missed him. “Hi…” was all she could think of to say in the moment, and she realized that was definitely not her finest hour.

“Hi,” he returned, offering her a small smile before stepping back so that she could come inside. “So you’re staying?” he nodded toward the bag in her hand.

“Uh…you did offer,” she pointed out, though it wasn’t an answer. She set the bag down beside the door as she stepped inside, her eyes widening as she looked around. She felt like she was so far out of her league here, that it wasn’t funny.

“Right, I did…I do…I just thought…” Castle was stumbling over his words.

“That I wouldn’t say yes?” she finished his thought for him as he closed the door.

“Yeah,” he admitted, studying her for a moment. She had a scabbed-over cut on her lower lip and looked like she had a few scrapes on her like she’d been in some kind of fight. That wasn’t like her; she was too good of a cop, too good at defending herself to get scraped up by an average suspect. He was curious, but he wasn’t sure asking her about it was the best way to start the afternoon.

She saw him looking, and knew he was going to wonder. “I’m fine, Castle. Just a few scrapes.” And broken ribs. She downplayed her injuries, seeing no need to elaborate on how hurt she was just yet. “Where’s Martha and Alexis?” she changed the topic.

“They left about an hour ago to go back to the city. Alexis has school for another couple of weeks, so they come out Friday afternoon and go back Sunday morning,” he answered.

So they were alone. Nothing and no one to interrupt them. No case for her to be able to bury herself in and hide behind. If they really wanted to sort through everything unspoken between them and deal with the fall out of…well, everything…it seemed like it was now or never. “So…just us…” she breathed deeply, her eyes searching him.

“Just us,” he nodded, his eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze for a few moments. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you…” he added quietly.

“I understand why you didn’t,” she offered a small smile of understanding. Because she did understand why he’d been upset; this case, her mother’s case…the way she acted when she investigated it, the things it did to her…add to that the fact the shooter had been after her and shot him instead; she hadn’t been lying to him when she told him she couldn’t pick it up for the same reason a recovering alcoholic didn’t pick up a drink. “I didn’t exactly call you either.”

He was quiet for another few moments, just watching her. “I should show you to a guest room,” he realized, finally tearing his eyes away from her.

“Right.” Even though she hadn’t completely, officially agreed to stay. She was careful when she knelt down to pick up her bag, making sure she used her right hand. She was also careful to mask any pain she felt, in no hurry to reveal her medical status to him just yet. She wasn’t going to lie to him about her injuries, but she also wasn’t going to just volunteer the information either.

She figured it would come up when she told him about the shooter anyway, and she would tell him about the shooter.

The way she was moving was not lost on him, but he didn’t comment on it yet. He’d ask her later. He led her upstairs, not moving very quickly at all. He was still supposed to be taking it easy, and stairs weren’t exactly his friend at the moment.

“If you tell me which room it is, I’m sure I can manage to get there on my own. You don’t have to come up the stairs,” she told him, noticing the difficulty he was having. Of course, the stairs weren’t necessarily her best friend with broken ribs at the moment either. They really were quite a pair, weren’t they? In another scenario, this would have been laughable.

He shook his head. “I’m good. The stairs are good for me,” he insisted stubbornly.

She eyed him for another moment. “Ok, but if you fall on your ass, I’m saying ‘I told you so.’ And I’m taking a video.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed. He continued up the stairs slowly, careful to keep his breathing and heart rate slow. Once they finally made it to the top, he took another moment before walking down the hallway and giving her an abbreviated tour and finally stopping in front of one of the bedrooms. “You can have this room. There’s a bathroom inside…and a view of the ocean. You’ve got complete privacy.”

She stepped inside and moved to place her bag on the bed. It was a beautiful room, but the view she saw from the window was the most spectacular thing about it. “Castle…” she breathed.

“It’s extraordinary isn’t it?” he said softly from his spot in the doorway. He hadn’t entered the room, not wanting to intrude on her space. “It’s the perfect room for you.” Because he thought she was extraordinary; In spite of everything they had said to each other, everything they had been through, every way she frustrated him or pissed him off, he still thought she was the most extraordinary person he’d ever met.

Meeting his eyes when she turned back, she blushed slightly at his words coupled with the way he was looking at her. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m still medicated,” he shrugged with a smile. “I’m going to let you get settled. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk before dinner.”

She returned his smile with one of her own. “We probably should, don’t you think? We have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded. “I’ll make us some coffee,” he agreed, turning to head downstairs and leaving her to

her own thoughts until she was ready to join him.

xxxxx

She took some time to try to prepare herself for the several discussions they needed to have, figuring they should start with what she’d been doing the last two weeks. After what she figured was enough time for him to have coffee made, she started down the stairs, following the smell to find the kitchen since she hadn’t had a tour of the lower level yet.

“Why don’t we take our coffee outside?” he suggested, handing her a cup made just the way he knew she liked it.

She brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the aroma deeply before taking a sip, savoring it. No one could make coffee taste the way he could; she didn’t know what he did that was so special, but even fancy coffee from coffee shops didn’t taste as good as his. And she had missed it recently. “Sure,” she agreed to his suggestion.

He led her outside to the back porch, gesturing for her to pick her seat before he sat down in a seat opposite her. “I need to talk to you about your mom’s case,” he started.

Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. “Actually, can you let me go first?” she asked him. Seeing him nod, she took another deep breath. “The shooter's dead.” Seeing his eyes widen slightly, she continued. “I didn’t do it,” she told him. “I wanted to…I almost did. But I didn’t.”

“Then how?” he asked, not following.

“Another sniper took him out.”

“Another sniper? You’ve got another sniper after you?” he asked.

“No…I don’t think so. I think the sniper was just after Maddox. He screwed up by shooting you instead of me. I think the other sniper was cleaning up his mess so that the case could be buried again.”

Castle was quiet for a moment, digesting the information she’d shared with him. “Could be. Maybe not,” he told her. Seeing her questioning look, he took a deep breath. “I got a phone call yesterday from a man claiming to be a friend of Montgomery’s,” he started. “The man told me Montgomery sent him a file before he died…a file that had all the names, all the proof someone would need to bring down the man behind your mother’s murder. The file is supposed to be used to keep you safe,” he continued, watching her, trying to judge her reaction.

“Well it didn’t work since Maddox tried to kill me more than once,” she murmured.

Castle took note of her words to ask her about them later. He needed to finish with his explanation before he lost his nerve. “He told me he didn’t get the file until after the shooting. But now that he has it, he struck a deal. If they come after you, he uses the information in the file to expose the person behind your mother’s murder. But you can’t go digging into your mother’s case anymore. If you do, they will come for you.” He gave her a minute to digest the words. “He said he’s already taken measures to make sure you’re safe,” he added. “So, maybe it was him who took out the shooter…Maddox, did you say his name was?”

She stood and began pacing with her coffee cup as she digested the information Castle had just given her. She supposed it was possible this man who had called Castle had been the one to take care of Maddox and clean up the files; it made just as much sense as her theory that it was Maddox’s employer cleaning up his mess. Either way the case got buried again.

He watched her pace, watched her thinking. “Beckett…” he started.

“Do you believe him? This…man who called you?” she asked, turning to him then. “Do you believe that if I stop digging, I’ll really be safe?”

“The way this man talked…yeah. Yeah I do,” he answered honestly. “Look, I know what the case means to you…but I don’t want to see you killed for this. Your dad doesn’t want to see you throw your life away for this.”

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of her father. “What does my dad have to do with this?”

He sighed, realizing he hadn’t told her about that either. “Your dad came to see me…before Montgomery was killed. He asked me to try to convince you that your life is worth more than your mother’s death. His words, not mine,” he told her quickly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her wrath for words he hadn’t said.

Great. Her father was conspiring with Castle against her now too. “What else did my dad say?” she finally asked.

Well, she wasn’t yelling at him. Castle took that as a positive sign, at least. “Not much, really. Just that he was worried about you. That you cared about me. That unless I was dumber than I look, he knew I cared about you too. And that I should stop you from throwing your life away. Again, his words, not mine.” He was quiet for a moment before he had to ask. “How mad are you right now?”

She glanced at him before taking a deep breath, wincing slightly at the inhale. “At my dad? A lot, actually. But at you? Not as much,” she admitted softly.

He noticed her wince and couldn’t not ask anymore. “Are you okay? You haven’t seemed

quite…right… since you got here. You said Maddox tried to kill you more than once, and you’re too good at your job to get scuffed up by some random arrest. So the split lip, the scrapes…I’m going to assume are from Maddox?”

She knew it would come out sooner or later. And she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to lie to him about it. “Yes,” she nodded. “And some broken ribs.”

“Broken ribs?” he immediately took a step toward her, only to be stopped by her holding up her hand.

“I’m fine.”

“Broken ribs is not fine,” he shook his head.

She sighed. “They hurt, but I’m fine, Castle. It’s nothing I can’t handle. It just hurts to breathe a little too deeply. The doctor said they’ll heal in about 6 weeks.”

“So you’re off work for 6 weeks…which is why you were able to bring a bag to stay for a few days,” Castle began to put the pieces together.

Beckett looked down at her coffee for a moment. “It’s a little longer than 6 weeks,” she admitted, taking a slow drink of her coffee. Seeing his questioning look, she bit her lip slightly. “I kind of got suspended. I’m not allowed back until September.”

“What?!” he almost laughed. “I’m both outraged and impressed by that.”

She rolled her eyes at his reaction. “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “What happened? How did you get suspended?”

She sighed. “The new captain hates me.” She shot him another look when he laughed at her words. “I’m serious, Castle! She did her whole hostile takeover and decided to use me to make an example out of so that everyone else in the precinct would see what happens when you go rogue.”

He couldn’t help but laugh some more. “You did go rogue…”

“It was my case! You’re my partner! She didn’t want to let me go after the shooter!” She cut him a look because his laughing was not helping. “Castle, if you don’t stop laughing, I swear to God…” she threatened him.

“Okay, okay…I’ll stop,” he held up his hands in surrender. “So September, huh?”

“Yeah, September,” she answered, her eyes daring him to start laughing at her again.

He gave it a few moments before getting serious again. “What are you going to do with your mother’s case?”

She was quiet for a bit, unsure of the answer herself. “I think for now…I don’t rock the boat,” she finally decided, looking out over the beach. “Whoever that second sniper was cleaned up the mess and took all the evidence. I don’t have anything to really run with. And this guy who called you says I’m safe for the time being…” she trailed off with a shrug. She wasn't going to abandon the case, but she was going to put it down for awhile...at least until she could find another lead.

“Is that enough for you?” he asked her seriously.

“It’s enough for now,” she answered, turning to him with a small smile. “I’ll get justice for my mom one day. I’d like you there when I do.”

He met her smile with one of his own, stepping closer to her and taking her hand in his. “I’d like that too.” When she didn’t pull her hand away, he felt a little braver. “So…what are you going to do this summer?” he asked curiously.

Finishing the coffee in her cup, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never not worked for more than a week. I don’t even know what to do with that much free time,” she admitted.

“You could stay here,” he suggested.

“Yeah, right!” she laughed.

“I’m serious, Kate,” he told her. “I’ve got the space. You need to heal, I’m healing. It’s peaceful. You brought a bag.”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “I brought enough clothes for a week, not the entire summer, Castle.”

He shrugged. “I have a washing machine. And you can go get more clothes. Or go shopping here.”

She shook her head again. He really wanted her to spend the summer with him. In the Hamptons. Her. “Why don’t we just see how this week goes?” she finally suggested. It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.

xxxxx

Thanks again to all who read and review! I truly love knowing your thoughts on my chapters. And I hope this gave you a bit of a payoff for the buildup through the story so far.

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

Hell Hath No Fury (6/?)

Thank you to all who made it through the most case-heavy chapter I think I’ve ever written! But as so many of you have been kind enough to point out, it was necessary to get to this point in the story…which I hope you will all enjoy, and maybe see as a bit of a payoff for sticking around past the last chapter!

Thank you for all the reviews and kind words, and especially to those who reviewed as a guest that I wasn’t able to thank personally.

Unfortunately, I still don’t own Castle…

xxxxx

Stepping out of her car in the driveway of a huge house, Beckett only had a second to take in the view before a sharp pain shot through her side. Nearly 3 hours in a car with 2 badly broken and 1 slightly fractured rib had not been the best choice; then again, she realized as far as bad choices go, she’d made a lot worse recently. She leaned forward with her forearms bracing herself against the car and had to take a few moments to breathe and try to stretch out just a little before she could stand completely upright again and shut the door.

As she slowly walked around to the trunk of her car, she had time to finally really take in the full view of his house. Damn, Castle…you rich or something? Of course, she’d known he was well-off…the way he dropped money so freely, had so easily dropped 100 grand at the shot to catch her mother’s killer like it was not much more than a penny to him. But seeing this house that was borderline mansion territory really kind of smacked her in the face with his wealth.

She grabbed her bag with her left hand out of habit and instantly dropped it, wincing in pain and grabbing at her ribs. Right side, Kate…you can only lift with your right side. Granted, she’d been told she wasn’t supposed to lift anything at all, but she wasn’t about to not carry her own bag inside. She’d honestly fought with herself over whether to leave her bag in the car, just in case she decided she didn’t want to stay; she’d decided instead to go ahead and carry it inside. She could leave it at the door and make it clear to him she wasn’t agreeing to stay yet; she just didn’t want to have to go back out to her car to get the bag if her decision was yes.

She waited another moment for the pain to subside a little before grabbing her bag with her right hand this time. It was still painful, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t manage as she made her way to the door and knocked. When the door opened and she saw Castle standing there, the pain in her side was momentarily forgotten…because he looked better than he had in the hospital; he looked almost, almost like himself again. And she’d missed him. “Hi…” was all she could think of to say in the moment, and she realized that was definitely not her finest hour.

“Hi,” he returned, offering her a small smile before stepping back so that she could come inside. “So you’re staying?” he nodded toward the bag in her hand.

“Uh…you did offer,” she pointed out, though it wasn’t an answer. She set the bag down beside the door as she stepped inside, her eyes widening as she looked around. She felt like she was so far out of her league here, that it wasn’t funny.

“Right, I did…I do…I just thought…” Castle was stumbling over his words.

“That I wouldn’t say yes?” she finished his thought for him as he closed the door.

“Yeah,” he admitted, studying her for a moment. She had a scabbed-over cut on her lower lip and looked like she had a few scrapes on her like she’d been in some kind of fight. That wasn’t like her; she was too good of a cop, too good at defending herself to get scraped up by an average suspect. He was curious, but he wasn’t sure asking her about it was the best way to start the afternoon.

She saw him looking, and knew he was going to wonder. “I’m fine, Castle. Just a few scrapes.” And broken ribs. She downplayed her injuries, seeing no need to elaborate on how hurt she was just yet. “Where’s Martha and Alexis?” she changed the topic.

“They left about an hour ago to go back to the city. Alexis has school for another couple of weeks, so they come out Friday afternoon and go back Sunday morning,” he answered.

So they were alone. Nothing and no one to interrupt them. No case for her to be able to bury herself in and hide behind. If they really wanted to sort through everything unspoken between them and deal with the fall out of…well, everything…it seemed like it was now or never. “So…just us…” she breathed deeply, her eyes searching him.

“Just us,” he nodded, his eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze for a few moments. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you…” he added quietly.

“I understand why you didn’t,” she offered a small smile of understanding. Because she did understand why he’d been upset; this case, her mother’s case…the way she acted when she investigated it, the things it did to her…add to that the fact the shooter had been after her and shot him instead; she hadn’t been lying to him when she told him she couldn’t pick it up for the same reason a recovering alcoholic didn’t pick up a drink. “I didn’t exactly call you either.”

He was quiet for another few moments, just watching her. “I should show you to a guest room,” he realized, finally tearing his eyes away from her.

“Right.” Even though she hadn’t completely, officially agreed to stay. She was careful when she knelt down to pick up her bag, making sure she used her right hand. She was also careful to mask any pain she felt, in no hurry to reveal her medical status to him just yet. She wasn’t going to lie to him about her injuries, but she also wasn’t going to just volunteer the information either.

She figured it would come up when she told him about the shooter anyway, and she would tell him about the shooter.

The way she was moving was not lost on him, but he didn’t comment on it yet. He’d ask her later. He led her upstairs, not moving very quickly at all. He was still supposed to be taking it easy, and stairs weren’t exactly his friend at the moment.

“If you tell me which room it is, I’m sure I can manage to get there on my own. You don’t have to come up the stairs,” she told him, noticing the difficulty he was having. Of course, the stairs weren’t necessarily her best friend with broken ribs at the moment either. They really were quite a pair, weren’t they? In another scenario, this would have been laughable.

He shook his head. “I’m good. The stairs are good for me,” he insisted stubbornly.

She eyed him for another moment. “Ok, but if you fall on your ass, I’m saying ‘I told you so.’ And I’m taking a video.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed. He continued up the stairs slowly, careful to keep his breathing and heart rate slow. Once they finally made it to the top, he took another moment before walking down the hallway and giving her an abbreviated tour and finally stopping in front of one of the bedrooms. “You can have this room. There’s a bathroom inside…and a view of the ocean. You’ve got complete privacy.”

She stepped inside and moved to place her bag on the bed. It was a beautiful room, but the view she saw from the window was the most spectacular thing about it. “Castle…” she breathed.

“It’s extraordinary isn’t it?” he said softly from his spot in the doorway. He hadn’t entered the room, not wanting to intrude on her space. “It’s the perfect room for you.” Because he thought she was extraordinary; In spite of everything they had said to each other, everything they had been through, every way she frustrated him or pissed him off, he still thought she was the most extraordinary person he’d ever met.

Meeting his eyes when she turned back, she blushed slightly at his words coupled with the way he was looking at her. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I’m still medicated,” he shrugged with a smile. “I’m going to let you get settled. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk before dinner.”

She returned his smile with one of her own. “We probably should, don’t you think? We have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded. “I’ll make us some coffee,” he agreed, turning to head downstairs and leaving her to

her own thoughts until she was ready to join him.

xxxxx

She took some time to try to prepare herself for the several discussions they needed to have, figuring they should start with what she’d been doing the last two weeks. After what she figured was enough time for him to have coffee made, she started down the stairs, following the smell to find the kitchen since she hadn’t had a tour of the lower level yet.

“Why don’t we take our coffee outside?” he suggested, handing her a cup made just the way he knew she liked it.

She brought the mug to her lips and inhaled the aroma deeply before taking a sip, savoring it. No one could make coffee taste the way he could; she didn’t know what he did that was so special, but even fancy coffee from coffee shops didn’t taste as good as his. And she had missed it recently. “Sure,” she agreed to his suggestion.

He led her outside to the back porch, gesturing for her to pick her seat before he sat down in a seat opposite her. “I need to talk to you about your mom’s case,” he started.

Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly. “Actually, can you let me go first?” she asked him. Seeing him nod, she took another deep breath. “The shooter's dead.” Seeing his eyes widen slightly, she continued. “I didn’t do it,” she told him. “I wanted to…I almost did. But I didn’t.”

“Then how?” he asked, not following.

“Another sniper took him out.”

“Another sniper? You’ve got another sniper after you?” he asked.

“No…I don’t think so. I think the sniper was just after Maddox. He screwed up by shooting you instead of me. I think the other sniper was cleaning up his mess so that the case could be buried again.”

Castle was quiet for a moment, digesting the information she’d shared with him. “Could be. Maybe not,” he told her. Seeing her questioning look, he took a deep breath. “I got a phone call yesterday from a man claiming to be a friend of Montgomery’s,” he started. “The man told me Montgomery sent him a file before he died…a file that had all the names, all the proof someone would need to bring down the man behind your mother’s murder. The file is supposed to be used to keep you safe,” he continued, watching her, trying to judge her reaction.

“Well it didn’t work since Maddox tried to kill me more than once,” she murmured.

Castle took note of her words to ask her about them later. He needed to finish with his explanation before he lost his nerve. “He told me he didn’t get the file until after the shooting. But now that he has it, he struck a deal. If they come after you, he uses the information in the file to expose the person behind your mother’s murder. But you can’t go digging into your mother’s case anymore. If you do, they will come for you.” He gave her a minute to digest the words. “He said he’s already taken measures to make sure you’re safe,” he added. “So, maybe it was him who took out the shooter…Maddox, did you say his name was?”

She stood and began pacing with her coffee cup as she digested the information Castle had just given her. She supposed it was possible this man who had called Castle had been the one to take care of Maddox and clean up the files; it made just as much sense as her theory that it was Maddox’s employer cleaning up his mess. Either way the case got buried again.

He watched her pace, watched her thinking. “Beckett…” he started.

“Do you believe him? This…man who called you?” she asked, turning to him then. “Do you believe that if I stop digging, I’ll really be safe?”

“The way this man talked…yeah. Yeah I do,” he answered honestly. “Look, I know what the case means to you…but I don’t want to see you killed for this. Your dad doesn’t want to see you throw your life away for this.”

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of her father. “What does my dad have to do with this?”

He sighed, realizing he hadn’t told her about that either. “Your dad came to see me…before Montgomery was killed. He asked me to try to convince you that your life is worth more than your mother’s death. His words, not mine,” he told her quickly, not wanting to be on the receiving end of her wrath for words he hadn’t said.

Great. Her father was conspiring with Castle against her now too. “What else did my dad say?” she finally asked.

Well, she wasn’t yelling at him. Castle took that as a positive sign, at least. “Not much, really. Just that he was worried about you. That you cared about me. That unless I was dumber than I look, he knew I cared about you too. And that I should stop you from throwing your life away. Again, his words, not mine.” He was quiet for a moment before he had to ask. “How mad are you right now?”

She glanced at him before taking a deep breath, wincing slightly at the inhale. “At my dad? A lot, actually. But at you? Not as much,” she admitted softly.

He noticed her wince and couldn’t not ask anymore. “Are you okay? You haven’t seemed

quite…right… since you got here. You said Maddox tried to kill you more than once, and you’re too good at your job to get scuffed up by some random arrest. So the split lip, the scrapes…I’m going to assume are from Maddox?”

She knew it would come out sooner or later. And she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to lie to him about it. “Yes,” she nodded. “And some broken ribs.”

“Broken ribs?” he immediately took a step toward her, only to be stopped by her holding up her hand.

“I’m fine.”

“Broken ribs is not fine,” he shook his head.

She sighed. “They hurt, but I’m fine, Castle. It’s nothing I can’t handle. It just hurts to breathe a little too deeply. The doctor said they’ll heal in about 6 weeks.”

“So you’re off work for 6 weeks…which is why you were able to bring a bag to stay for a few days,” Castle began to put the pieces together.

Beckett looked down at her coffee for a moment. “It’s a little longer than 6 weeks,” she admitted, taking a slow drink of her coffee. Seeing his questioning look, she bit her lip slightly. “I kind of got suspended. I’m not allowed back until September.”

“What?!” he almost laughed. “I’m both outraged and impressed by that.”

She rolled her eyes at his reaction. “Shut up.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “What happened? How did you get suspended?”

She sighed. “The new captain hates me.” She shot him another look when he laughed at her words. “I’m serious, Castle! She did her whole hostile takeover and decided to use me to make an example out of so that everyone else in the precinct would see what happens when you go rogue.”

He couldn’t help but laugh some more. “You did go rogue…”

“It was my case! You’re my partner! She didn’t want to let me go after the shooter!” She cut him a look because his laughing was not helping. “Castle, if you don’t stop laughing, I swear to God…” she threatened him.

“Okay, okay…I’ll stop,” he held up his hands in surrender. “So September, huh?”

“Yeah, September,” she answered, her eyes daring him to start laughing at her again.

He gave it a few moments before getting serious again. “What are you going to do with your mother’s case?”

She was quiet for a bit, unsure of the answer herself. “I think for now…I don’t rock the boat,” she finally decided, looking out over the beach. “Whoever that second sniper was cleaned up the mess and took all the evidence. I don’t have anything to really run with. And this guy who called you says I’m safe for the time being…” she trailed off with a shrug. She wasn't going to abandon the case, but she was going to put it down for awhile...at least until she could find another lead.

“Is that enough for you?” he asked her seriously.

“It’s enough for now,” she answered, turning to him with a small smile. “I’ll get justice for my mom one day. I’d like you there when I do.”

He met her smile with one of his own, stepping closer to her and taking her hand in his. “I’d like that too.” When she didn’t pull her hand away, he felt a little braver. “So…what are you going to do this summer?” he asked curiously.

Finishing the coffee in her cup, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never not worked for more than a week. I don’t even know what to do with that much free time,” she admitted.

“You could stay here,” he suggested.

“Yeah, right!” she laughed.

“I’m serious, Kate,” he told her. “I’ve got the space. You need to heal, I’m healing. It’s peaceful. You brought a bag.”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “I brought enough clothes for a week, not the entire summer, Castle.”

He shrugged. “I have a washing machine. And you can go get more clothes. Or go shopping here.”

She shook her head again. He really wanted her to spend the summer with him. In the Hamptons. Her. “Why don’t we just see how this week goes?” she finally suggested. It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.

xxxxx

Thanks again to all who read and review! I truly love knowing your thoughts on my chapters. And I hope this gave you a bit of a payoff for the buildup through the story so far.