#I like. proofread. sometimes

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[ask-the-pioneer]

"Yes, I am now heading towards Five Pebbles, the local iterator. I find it funny how I was born and spent my first cycles in the shadow of his superstructure, while being completely oblivious to the existence of this demi-god. And now that I came back here... it feels even more uncanny."

"Though, I really... I really wish Hunter did not abandon me like that. I thought we were meant to go on that mission together? I'm not blind, I know something is wrong with him. We used to go on expeditions in the past, but now that he has a very important payload to deliver and could use some help, he suddenly doesn't need it? I don't understand... I'm more than capable in combat, we make a good team, I thought he was happy with my company?"

"We separated earlier at Farm Arrays. Hunter kept insisting he has to do it alone, despite my pleading. Instead, I was told to head straight to Five Pebbles. I thought we had to visit there anyway? Iterators often use slugcats as messengers, I've learned..."

"Sigh... I feel a little lost all on my own. I miss Hunter already. I hope that, despite everything, he's okay and we will return to NSH soon. But first, I need to pay the local iterator a visit. I'm hoping for some guidance in regards to... ahem... rot, yeah. I heard they've been affected by the disease, too. Maybe they've got an idea on how to manage it? It doesn't hurt to try. Maybe I'll hang around this area for a while to collect as many pearls as possible, then have Five Pebbles read them to me? One of those has to have some kind of instruction on how to treat rot, it has to... I refuse to believe that the disease which plagued iterators for countless cycles is untreatable."

"Uh... the Red One?"

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Excuse me but the idea of MC and Xav sitting on their respective balconies and texting each other The Tea while people watching in their neighborhood is both so silly and so endearing to me.

So let's go on a small adventure, shall we?

Warnings: None.

Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.

The late morning sun was already warming you through the windows of your tiny apartment before you'd even stepped foot outside. It was finally mid-spring in Linkon, which meant you could enjoy your late breakfast on the patio without having to worry about a stray chill or errant frost dampening your weekly Saturday 'brunch' plans.

Opening the patio door with your granola bar in one hand and phone in the other, you settle into the cushioned bench that overlooked your apartment courtyard and took a deep breath. Sometimes it felt like winter was neverending in Linkon, but you could finally feel the tension of the gripping cold that had settled in your bones start to slowly bleed from you.

After getting comfortable, you finally pulled out your phone, and quickly found your brunch 'date's' contact info, sending him the customary "Get up it's people watching hour" text.

[Hey Xav, you up? I'm already on my balcony?]

It doesn't take long for his reply. This has been your weekly tradition for a few months now. Ever since you had both just so happened to see that kid getting dragged down the street by the monstrous hound, it had become something of a... habit for the two of you to text each other the funny happenings on your street when you were home. Not that either of you were particularly prone to gossip, but the simple domesticity of it was oddly comforting after a long week of getting slogged on by wanderers.

[Yeah I'm up. Give me a sec]

The soft ping of your notification broke the peace, followed shortly by the shuffling of his patio door sliding open from above you. Sure, you could simply call out and greet him, as the acoustics out here are great and the soundproofing is atrocious, but the silence is cozy, and the atmosphere almost feels magical. This is your ritual, after all.

It's a bit like a storybook scene, you think, the two of you sharing a moment in time together yet still separated by some outside force. Maybe it was silly, but the fabricated longing almost made it feel romantic in a way that you're sure your neighbor would find ridiculous.

When you hear his footsteps above you come to a halt, you immediately notice something in particular is missing, however.

[You forgot your coffee Xav. Are you gonna be able to stay awake?]

[How could U tell?]

[I didn't smell any burning 🤭🔥]

He doesn't reply, but you can hear the huff he makes over the railing as his footsteps retreat, fading behind the sliding door once again. You don't even try to hold back the laughter his reaction elicits from you, hopeful the concrete carries it to him easily.

When he finally does reemerge, faint smell of bitter charred beans on the wind, his phone is already buzzing with the morning's newest additions to your people watching portfolios.

An older man you'd long ago dubbed "Green Thumb" who liked to frequent the flower garden outside your apartment complex was already taking photos of the new stargazer lily blossoms that had just opened this morning. So enamored by the vibrant petals, he didn't even seem to notice the couple he'd backed into who'd happened to spill their groceries all over the sidewalk. You heard Xavier call "Watch out!" From above you when he'd recognized the impending impact, but at your distance, it was no use.

[That was nice of you Xav. Too bad it didn't help 🫠]

[I can't believe they didn't see Green Thumb. He was so hard to miss. Even when Ur distracted U still see better]

[HEY! I'm not the one who sleep walks! 💀]

[And yet I'm always there to guard Ur back partner]

He's right of course, though you're not going to tell him. Xavier likes to play the part of a soft and harmless little thing, but it doesn't take much to stoke the hunter into burning hotter than you intended. His evol might be light, but you know better than anyone that light, under careful concentration, can start a blazing fire if you're not mindful. His teasing isn't ever harmful though, so instead you decide to simply poke the bear.

[Only because I'm starting to suspect you like it back there]

The distinct sound of a phone accidentally hitting the concrete marks the end of that thread.

Its not long before another of your regulars, pair of young kids Xavier had called the Trouble Twins arrived on scene. Aptly named for the number of times their poor mother has chastised them for chasing the ducks and picking the flowers, the siblings were quite the rambunctious duo. Today they seem to be a few steps ahead of their vigilant mother, rushing into the park with high-pitched hollers and improvised swords made of small branches they'd found. Today's unfortunate conquest seemed to be the pigeons that were being fed by the local grannies.

[They look like a pair of knights today don't they?]

[Knights? Don't knights usually protect people?]

[Maybe they're protecting us from the pigeons]

[Xavier those old ladies look pretty mad idk. That one even tried to chase the boy and almost caught him!]

The pause in messages was punctuated by his soft laughter above you, carried on the spring breeze. It was so warm, so genuine, so comfortable. You didn't need a mirror to feel the heat bloom in your cheeks; the overwhelming sensation of ardor flooding you at the the very sound.

[You're right. He needs more training. A good Knight should never be caught by an old lady]

[.... I don't think that's the message here Xav]

The rest of your morning goes back and forth like this for another hour. Watching your favorite people pass by, concocting new and interesting stories for them as they pass your balconies. Xavier has very interesting and oddly insightful opinions on those around him, considering you don't really recall seeing him with many friends. None the less, his company and companionship on your balconies has easily become your favorite part of the week. The only noises between you are the laughter that passes back and forth as the texts volley from one to another.

Finally, as the afternoon sun starts to become an uncomfortable heat, your phone chimes once more.

[I'm getting kind of hungry]

[Oh good. You're warning me this time. Thanks!]

[What?]

[No. I was going to ask if U wanted to go to lunch. With me, I mean?]

And just like that, the storybook was snapping shut. No longer a fragment lost in time where two people gazed at the same scene together from two separate places, but a tangible moment you could step into. Something intimate and real.

Perhaps you stayed in this thought a moment too long, or your silence below him made him second guess himself, as the chime of your phone snapped you out of your daze again.

[I didn't mean to impose if U have plans]

[I know it's Ur day off too]

Fumbling with the suddenly slippery device, softly cursing, and praying he didn't hear, you quickly hammer out the only thing that's been playing in your head on repeat-

[Yes absolutely! I'd love to grab some lunch I'm starving]

[Meet me downstairs in 30?]

[thevirtualvalentine]

content warnings: bondage (on your wrists), condescending!law, fem!afab!reader, drabble on how I picture law brat taming, vitiligo law so real and canon, dacryphillia if you squint.

“How long are you gonna keep up the act, doll. It’s not hard to apologize.” Law’s currently pissed off at you for misbehaving today and is showing it in how he fucks you like he hates you. “Just two simple words,” he says in that condescending deep voice of his with cold eyes that berate your every move.

Your wrists are bound together to the bed post, of course fashioned to his liking. Dick in hand as he reduces you to a blubbering mess, easing in and out of your greedy hole with how wet you are for him. “You know you wanna sweetheart, use yer words.” His smirk betrays that indignant tone, so does the way he huffs when you squeeze his head in your damp walls.

“Please Law m’sorry.” He’s edging his tip around your slit as he plays with you.

Sadistic bastard, “sorry for?” Pulling away entirely as he pumps his fat length in front of you, too far to reach but close enough to watch. It makes your mouth water; dark skin with splotches of white here and there across his abdomen, a delicious happy trail, and a heavy cock that you wish would wreck your insides already.

“Annoyin’ you t-today,” he slides in halfway as you’re talking, wanting to hear the way his dick makes you fumble over your words, it’s all about control with him.

“And? You sure that’s all.” He couldn’t care to look at you, instead fixated on where you meet. Lower lips clinging to his shaft as he glides inside, filling you to the brim. He thinks your pussy looks prettiest stuffed with him.

“Mhm hm,” you cry, tugging your plush bottom lip between your teeth as he places a hand across your lower stomach, almost covering it with a single appendage. Death written across his knuckles as he presses down, lessening the space in your already tight cunny.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” Dragging his length out of you, dissatisfied with your answer. “What happened to my smart girl? Huh?” Law fucks you with only his tip, letting it stretch your first ring of muscle while you strain against his confinements.

“Poor baby, just want some dick don’tcha,” he wipes the defeated tears that spill down your face with his thumb, rolling his pelvis into you at a begrudging pace. He’s savoring every sound, cry, and reaction from you. Storing it in his brain for when he’s sadly away from you.

“I know, I know, stop your cryin’. I’ll fuck you right baby, just gotta learn your lesson first.”

[championsandheroes]

Ser Jory, I have to insist that you read the character creation text before you open your mouth again.

Over at Patreon, society6, and redbubble we’ve decided to forgive ser Jory, but only because he had no issue with us being an elf.

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Part 2 of the little comic

Moon really does not like the situation but Y/N can't just not do their work.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[xx0yeet-everything0xx]

hey remember like. the ONLY desi demigod mentioned in the rrverse? that guy mentioned in ToA? and all we know about him is that his name is pranjal, he's indian, & he's a son of asclepius?

well. what if i said i have a mini-fic, just 5 chapters long, about him. because i never got enough representation as a child and i'm making this everyone's problem now

[based--ball]

This has been the summer of the weird baseball creations for me and I have been having such a blast. Like who knew that to make me happy all you have to do is sit me down in front of a jays game with craft supplies or a laptop and a snack and a drink. I've made collages and I've written fic and I've written poetry for the first time since probably grade 6? I've started embroidering again? I made a paper doll even though I don't draw? I don't think of myself as a particularly creative person but I guess I have been making things so maybe I'm in my creative period lol

[blaithnne]

The adhd urge to post every chapter immediately after writing it vs the autism urge to wait until the entire fanfic is finished and has pictures to go along with it before even mentioning it exists

[skyward-floored]

Me: yeah when I get home from this I’ll work on that fic and post that one thing and it’ll be great—

Me the moment I get home: *face plant*

[svtskneecaps]

yknow what with the strife building between forever and bad and the ripple effect that might have on the server at large i think now is the perfect time to fridge bad. go touch grass, mr boyhalo, it's time to see people either fall apart or come together without you. bc listen. listen. when the dms are bumpin with 'bad can you ___' every thirty seconds. sometimes you just gotta steal badboyhalo and see what the fuck happens. i just want to know.

and i also want bad to slEEP GODDAMNIT

[meownotgood]

50,000 words. 50k words of aki sex. five zero zero zero zero. aki sex.

[becauseplot]

thinking about archivists again. below the cut: obscene amounts of brainrot in the form of a long-winded relationship study and oddly specific references to canon that may or may not be accurate

im trying to come up with some sort of au for them (writer's block and creative burnout is a BITCH it's okay though we stay silly) and there's just something about how qphil and qcellbit don't (or didn't) really wind up in each other's circles often. sure they were friendly with each other in passing, and they definitely had some nice little interactions earlier on: cellbit briefly interviewing phil on one of his first days on the island over a cup of coffee and solidifying phil's view of cellbit as the Dedicated Investigator; phil asking cellbit to babysit chayanne and tallulah while he's away on a trip and cellbit being more than happy to; phil briefly checking in with cellbit --- who was in the process of tumbling into his regret arc, cutting off ties with loved ones and making himself a martyr --- and asking if he was okay when phil spotted him hanging alone in the back of the group; chatting about the upcoming wedding and phil advising cellbit that he and roier should probably introduce some sort of dress code (lmao); cellbit watching phil and missa meet up for the first time in months on the way to the federation's people-freezers and all of the pieces rapidly falling into place (the name of phil's waystone, phil's skull backpack, phil's elusive "husband," ohhhhhhh...). they've always been in each other's peripheral, but never directly involved in each other's personal lives.

until the happy pills.

see the thing about archivists is that they're not drawn together by a pre-existing friendship; they're more friendly acquaintances at this point, perhaps almost-friends, though they're certainly not close. but then forever's life is under threat, and god, they both love forever immensely. with direct help from bad and indirect help from others (qpac you LEGEND), they're eventually able to formulate a plan that successfully drag forever out from under the haze of drugs, pull him to the surface. they sit next to each other as they sit at the bedside of their mutual friend, watch him breathing, and try to breathe themselves.

and from that moment on it's solidified: they know they can depend on each other, when shit hits the fan. they have their respective strengths, and they balance out each other nicely. i wish i had gotten more of a chance to watch their dynamic during purgatory 1 (unfortunately i have a life sadge) but from what i saw, they turned out to be some pretty good co-leaders, and an interesting dynamic at that: phil acting more as a support role (moral support, resource support, combat support, ALL the support) and stepping up into a leader-like role when needed, but ultimately letting cellbit take the helm a lot of the time since he's a strategist with more practice managing large groups of people (i wont get into it here, and i want to watch more vods so i can more properly analyze them but HOUGHH i have THOUGHTS!! SO MANY!!!)

what im trying to get at is that they were initially in the peripheral in each others lives but were eventually drawn together out of necessity, due to circumstances. the mutual respect followed, which was then followed by trust, and then collaboration, and then friendship. i've also made this post talking about their dynamic, how they both understand each other's need to focus on the here and now and understand that they don't need to know every little thing about each other to still trust each other. and this is so integral to their relationship. it's what makes archivists archivists.

so now all that's left for me to do is try to come up with some sort of au i can chuck them in, incorporating this idea of "friendship of necessity" as a core feature of the plot. i have scattered ideas but none are particularly appealing or solid enough. i will try though!! if u have any suggestions/thoughts/ideas feel free to leave a comment or say in tags (pspsppsps come brainrot with meeee)

[eowyntheavenger]

The editors at my job are TERRIBLE. I spend so much time writing my papers, fact-checking them, putting sources in them, proofreading them, editing them... and then what to the editors to? They go in and rewrite sentences and COMPLETELY CHANGE THE MEANING. Like not even in a way where they could conceivably have misunderstood. They just change things to be blatantly, OBVIOUSLY wrong. And then they cut the most important historical context that I've put in there like it's unimportant. The worst part is, I know it doesn't have to be like this. When I send my articles to external publications, it's completely different: they do a very light copy-edit and then post my papers virtually as-is. They don't rewrite them, and they certainly don't rewrite them WRONG.

[gravidwithlore]

Building a Home: Flash Forward

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Didnt post this for a while bc I wasn't sure if people would be interested esp bc it's not kinky, not even a little bit. And also I was going to add more at the beginning and end of another characters perspective, but hell with it! I wrote it for me, and I had fun, and I want to share it! So have some whump/comfort featuring 5 year old Wulf and all of his parents.

______________________

Wulf was trying very hard not to be scared. One of the other kids was crying earlier, and one of the mean bad guys hit them so hard that now they had a cut on their lip and now their face was starting to turn a purpley color. So Wolf was trying very hard not to be scared. Or at least not to show that he was scared. All of his parents had always told him it's okay to be scared, or sad, or angry, to feel what you need to feel, but that sometimes our emotions made us act in ways that hurt other people, hurt ourselves, or could make a situation worse. Wulf felt like if he showed his scared, it would definitely make this situation worse.  

Thinking about his parents made him think about his Papa, and thinking about the last time he saw his Papa made tears start to burn his eyes. So he tried not to think of his Papa. But there wasn't much to do in the dank cold caves he and the other kids were being kept prisoner in, so he ended up circling back to thinking about his Papa despite trying very hard not to think about his Papa. 

Ever since the triplets were born, Papa had made an effort of setting aside time just for him and Wulf. And Wulf loved his little siblings very much, but he always loved just Papa and Wulf time. And today, or was it yesterday? It was so hard to tell here, but he'd just wanted to show Papa a cool plant he'd found a few days ago while playing with some of the village boys. His Papa had been trying to do art lately, and Wulf thought it would be really pretty to draw. And maybe later Bama would let them take a look at their big books of different plants, and they could compare Papa and Wulf's pretty drawings to the pictures in the books to see what kind of plant it is! Wulf knew he could ask his Bama to just tell him what the plant was, but it just felt more special this way and he wanted to share it with his Papa during Papa and Wulf time. 

But when they got to the edge of the farm, Papa had gotten tense, and some strange men riding by stopped in front of them. At first Wulf thought their black leather gear looked really cool, but then he noticed how on edge his Papa was. And then he heard the sound of whimpering and crying coming from one of the big sacks the strange men carried on their horses. One of the men knew Papa! Wulf had met people that knew his parents before, people from outside of their village at least. His Jiji sometimes had other bards visit from his super secret order, and his Bama met with other clerics and druids, and he'd even met his Dad's sister a few times, even though she didn't seem to like Papa very much for some reason. But he'd never met anyone who knew his Papa from before, well before he was born he guessed. Wulf had asked a few times but Papa had always looked sort of sad and said he didn't have anyone from before, his family had been gone a long long time. 

But this man knew Papa from before, and Papa was not at all happy to see him. He had put an arm in front of Wulf, and told him to get one of his other parents, and to run! Wulf tried to run, he tried to run so fast, he knew his Mama was just a field over, and his Jiji was still in the house, and he could hear Dad banging away at the forge. But he wasn't fast enough. The chains that wrapped around his middle dug painfully into his arms and chest as they yanked him away from his family and towards the bad riders. He could see his Papa fighting, and he didn't have his sword, not even the wooden swords he sometimes used when sparring with Mama. 

Wulf screamed as loud as he could as he felt one of the strangers arms wrap around him, just like his parents had taught him to do if an adult ever grabbed him without his permission. Papa was still fighting the Bad Man from before, and for the first time in his life Wulf saw his Papa afraid. More afraid than he even knew someone could be afraid. Wulf tried to shout for his Papa, as tears began to stream down his face, but one of the bad people stuffed some gross tasting cloth in his mouth. He tried to kick and punch whoever held him, even though his parents said it wasn't okay to do hits, Wulf felt like this one time would probably be okay. He was the strongest boy in the village, even stronger than the 10 year olds who were twice his age. But even though he heard a crack and the stranger holding him shout in pain, he wasn't strong enough to break out of their grasp. Papa wasn't doing much better, his fists outmatched by the Bad Man’s mean looking sword. But suddenly his Papa had taken one of the knives the Bad Man had stored on his side! He’d always told Wulf stealing was wrong, but to Wulf this felt like a good stealing. 

He renewed his efforts to break free again, struggling against his captors' hold, but again to no avail. The bad strangers started to ride off, and Wulf saw one of them, with an evil looking smile, raise a hand out and cast magic towards his Papa. Wulf tried to warn him, but his mouth was still full of that gross cloth! He struggled, the hardest he'd struggled yet, as they pulled a burlap bag over him and rode off. The last thing he saw was his Papa trying his best to fight off the magic, but losing and collapsing, unconsciousness, into the dirt. 

“Gods-damn I swear that kid broke at least two of my fucking ribs boss.” One of the bad guys complained, his hand holding his side. 

“Shut up, and get these brats into position. We have a limited amount of time to complete the ritual, and I won't be delayed by your bitching.” The Bad Man growled at them. 

“Yeah, sure thing boss.” The bad guy muttered as he warily approached Wulf. Broken out of his thoughts, Wulf went back to planning his escape. So far he was still on the first step: Find a good opportunity to escape. He didn't know what this ritual was, or why he and the other kids were here for it, but he knew it couldn't be good, and he also knew his own window of opportunity was about to close. When the bad guy went to grab him he growled, hoping it would deter him enough to give Wulf some more time to think. The bad guy flinched, but unfortunately he wasn't as scared of Wulf as he was of the Bad Man. 

His parents had always told him cursing was bad, and to do as they say and not as they do, especially his Papa, but this wasn't a time for rules, so Wulf mentally cursed at himself for not being as scary as the Bad Man. He may have been the strongest boy in the village, but he was only 5 years old! The Bad Man had at least 10, maybe 15, more years of experience in being scary than Wulf did! The bad guy shoved him into place, and Wulf could feel panic rising in his chest as the other kids starting crying. None of them knew what was going to happen, but all of them knew it was nothing good, and Wulf still didn't know how he was going to escape. The bad stranger, the one who'd put the spell on his Papa, started chanting, and Wulf tried to stay strong, but he couldn't do anything, he was still so small, and he was so so scared, and his Papa might be dead and-

Before the panicked sob could escape his chest, and loud BOOM! echoed through the cavern and a bright light across from him lit up his- HIS PAPA! And beside him his Dad and his Mama, and a giant wolf with fur the color of his Bama’s hair! Wulf’s relief didn't last long as the Bad Man grabbed his hair and held a knife up to his throat, his narrow evil eyes locked on Papa. Wulf couldn't help but whimper as the sharp blade started to dig into his exposed neck. 

“Let go of my son!” His Papa shouted. But even though he was relieved to see his Papa, alive and here to save him, Wulf could tell something wasn't quite right. His voice was too… theatrical? Wulf remembered his JiJi teaching him that word, but he wasn't sure he was using it right. And Papa was holding knives that were way too small for him, and Papa didn't use throwing knives like that. And his brows were furrowed together like they did when he got too competitive during game night. But the end of his eyebrow ticked up, just like his JiJi’s did when he was playing a funny joke and waiting for you to get it and laugh with him. Plus, why did his hair look like it was blowing in the breeze? 

“You heard the fucking man. Let. Him. Go.” His Papa growled low from behind him. Wulf didn't risk getting cut by moving his head, but he lifted his eyes up and could see the tip of his Papa’s blade, the one his Dad had made just for him, with the protective runes down the center, pressed into the side of the Bad Man’s neck. His Papa, his real Papa, was right there behind him! Then that must mean-

When Wulf looked back, his Papa, his JiJi disguised as his Papa, gave him a reassuring wink. Wulf knew they were all still in very real danger, the Bad Man was growling out his own response to his Papa, and the dagger was still at his neck, but he felt the tears of relief sting his eyes anyway. But then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and a release of the pressure of the knife on his neck. The Bad Man had gotten so distracted by Papa that his hand had drifted up towards Wulf’s face. Suddenly he realized everyone was in a standstill. His parents weren't making a move because the Bad Man still had a knife on Wulf’s neck, but the bad guys weren't moving because his Papa had his sword pressed into the Bad Man’s neck. But if Wulf made sure the Bad Man didn't have a knife near his throat anymore, then his parents could kick all the bad guys butt's no problem! 

Seeing his moment to strike, Wulf bit down on the Bad Man’s hand. And he bit down hard. He imagined he was biting down into one of his Bama’s crisp apples from the trees on their farm, and he held on. He heard the Bad Man scream and curse in pain, but he refused to let go off the knife. After a moment of surprise and pain, he gripped the knife harder and drove the blade deep into Wulf’s cheek. It hurt so bad! Wulf had never hurt so bad, even that time he scrapped his knees really really hard on the rocks he wasn't supposed to be playing on. It hurt harder than anything Wulf could ever imagine, but he remembered his Papa falling down unconscious, and how he tried to help and wasn't strong enough. He had to be strong and help his Papa! So he bit down even harder than he knew he could, and even heard a crunch just like he would when taking a bite of Bama’s apples. These tasted absolutely nothing like Bama’s apples, the Bad Man tasted NASTY, but the taste of victory felt sweet as Wulf heard the sound of the knife chattering to the ground. 

The Bad Man yelled and kicked Wulf to the ground, into the center of the scary runes drawn in chalk. Wulf landed painfully on his hand and knees, face still throbbing in pain from where the knife cut into his cheek. He looked up just in time to see the bad stranger lift their hand and a blast of fire shooting right towards him, ready to engulf him in its flames. But right at the last second, the flames split apart before they reached Wulf, the light blue glow of a purely magic shield shone where the orangey-red flames beat against it. Wulf looked up to see his Dad, in the full suit of armor Wulf had only seen packed within it’s chest, when he peeked into the parts of his Dad’s forge he knew he shouldn't be in. 

Before Wulf could marvel in the glory of his Dad's cool armor, one of the bad guys shouted as they brought their sword down to attack. Before his Dad could move his shield up or swing the big hammed that looked just like the smaller one he used in the forge, his Mama's rapier pierced the bad guy in his side, throwing him off their path. Around his Dad's leg, he could see his Mama, one arm protectively around one of the other kids, the other getting ready to cast a spell. All of a sudden, he felt a hot moist muzzle on the back of his neck, teeth grabbing hold of the back of his shirt and lifting him. He flipped up and over, sliding down the wolf's neck to settle comfortably on their back, as the wolf gracefully leapt out of the path of one of the bad guys' ax. 

“I've got you my dearest Wulf cub, now hold on tight.” The wolf spoke in their Bama’s voice. Wulf grabbed on tight around their Bama’s neck and let a few tears of relief escape as he dug his face into their fur. Then the wolf growled and snarled, deep and threatening, and Wulf snapped his head up to see his Bama approaching a bad guy trying to grab one of the other kids. 

“Hey back off, meanie!” Wulf screamed, a little surprised when the bad guy actually looked a little scared of him. But the bad guy recovered and tried to grab the crying kid the same way the Bad Man had grabbed Wulf and threatened him earlier. Their Bama wouldn't allow that to happen though, and they leapt forward and snapped their jaws around the arm reaching for the defenseless child. Wulf didn't want to leave the warm safety of their Bama's fur, but the other child had just crumpled and kept crying instead of running away. So they slid off their Bama's back, and helped the other kid up. Wulf made sure neither of them looked in their Bama's direction as they heard the sound of something tearing and the bad guy's scream of pain. 

“Just close your eyes and it'll be okay.” Wulf gently coaxed them onto his Bama's back with them, and made sure they didn't see their Bama's blood-soaked muzzle. 

“A truer wolf there's never been, my little cub.” Bama's voice, slightly deeper in this form, rumbled through him as Wulf settled on their back again.

“Can't argue with that Mel.” JiJi appeared at their side, another child in tow. “A badass, just like your Papa.” Wulf gleamed with pride as their JiJi kissed them on the forehead, and deposited the child in their arms onto Bama's back. Wulf could feel the other child wrap their hands around his waist, as if they were hanging on for dear life. Arms free again, Wulf watched as his JiJi threw a knife straight into the eye of an approaching bad guy then leaped and disappeared into thin air, then reappearing on the other side of the crowd surrounding his Dad and another child. A loud clap of thunder boomed through the cavern as he landed, the force of it knocking over all the bad guys and leaving them at the mercy of his Dad's hammer. 

Wulf looked around as their Bama leapt away from a new attacker, worried he couldn't see his Papa in the fray. But he found him, injured, but not nearly as injured as the Bad Man was. For a moment Wulf thought the Bad Man had gotten the upper hand on his Papa, pinning him to the ground, knife moving towards his face. But at the last second, Papa drove the knife to the side and with a roar, rolled them over. A quick punch to distract and daze, then he darted behind some rocks for cover so he could attack from a different position. Wulf smiled. His Papa would do this sometimes when his parents were sparring ‘for real.’ It worked every single time, and from the Bad Man's confused and angry reaction, Wulf could tell it was going to work this time too. 

An angry growl distracted Wulf, as Bama snapped at a bad guy who'd tried to stab his Mama while she was trying to calm down a really scared kid who was hiding in between some rocks. Seeing Wulf and the other kids on his Bama’s back seemed to earn their trust enough to leap into his Mama’s waiting arms. As they did, a magical door opened and Jiji, and the kid that his Dad had been protecting clutching onto his back, stepped through it to join them.

“Wulf,” His Mama sighed in relief at the sight of him and put a hand on his cheek, as behind her his could see her rapier moving on its own as it sliced a bad guy to shreds. “My love, you're safe now. We'll make sure you all get home safe and sound.” She said to the other kids. “Wulf, are these all the children that were taken with you?” Mama asked him, voice serious and full of business. Wulf looked around. All the other kids he vaguely knew from around the village and other villages in the area. Amongst the chaos, Wulf searched his memory and counted how many whimpering sacks he saw on the back of the strange riders horses, how many scared kids had been tied up and held prisoner with him, who were about to be used in a scary mysterious ritual. Including him, there were five. Looking around him, he counted. Five kids total. 

“Yes Mama.” Wulf nodded. She smiled and hoisted the child in her arms to Jiji. 

“Good, then you all get out of here. Papa, Dad and I will… clean up here.” As if to punctuate her words, Wulf could hear a loud crack as his Dad's hammer hit someone in some part of the body that definitely shouldn't be hit by a giant hammer. 

“But Mama!” Wulf protested, suddenly scared of being split up from his family again. 

“No if, ands, or buts, kiddo. Help keep everyone safe, stay with JiJi and Bama, and we'll see you soon okay?” Mama said softly as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him on the forehead, all while her rapier disarmed its opponent and stabbed them directly through the heart. 

“Okay Mama.” Wulf sighed, partly in disappointment he couldn't stay and help, partly in relief his parents were here to save everyone. 

“Be safe, my loves.” Bama growled affectionately, as they turned and took off for the exit, JiJi not far behind. Wulf took one last look at the battle as they left, most of the bad guys looked like they were dead or dying, Dad and Mama just picking off the last few stragglers. But Wulf already knew that, his eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for someone’s who’s special talent was not being seen. But right before Bama turned a corner in their dash for escape, Wulf finally caught sight of his Papa, driving his sword right through the Bad Man’s head. 

(After this Melian is too worn out to magically heal Wulf's face all the way, and he's left with a scar. Wulf is pumped that he looks just like his Papa and is trying to show he's strong for everyone, and Brone is on the verge of a panic attack, but I didn't have the time or motivation to write this whole scene(s) out)

[apolloskazoo]

me after taking 25 whole minutes to write out a two-sentence comment under a fic: I dunno maybe it sounds weird and I shouldn’t comment after all….