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#and none of them are the same as the other brown mouse
kedreeva · 2 years
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Do you think you could give your opinions on the recessive / lethal yellow genes in mice? Do you think you'd ever consider breeding recessive yellow? (If you haven't already.) I'm just super curious about your thoughts on them as I don't really know a lot about genetics. Do you think it's possible to breed a consistently healthy line of yellow mice? I'm just super curious to hear your thoughts as a breeder
Well, this is a kind of long answer and I'll warn it discusses animal death, so I'll put it behind a cut.
Personally, I wouldn't, but not because of ethics concerns; I just don't like any of the colors made with RY/AY. They're just not visually appealing to me. I had a couple RY pop up from the Taylor black line when I first got it, and they were just enh. A good, rich red, esp a satin red, can be a really perfect looking mouse... but by god that's years of work and it never ends because Red is such a hard phenotype to maintain and I'm just not that determined. I'm convinced that people breed for red because seeing it opens all the ferret cages in their brain, not because they can be normal about it. If you want good reds, it's like you dedicate your life (and mousery) to it or you don't do it, and my life's already dedicated to the peafowl. My mousery is already dedicated to blacks and tricolors.
As for the AY gene itself, it's a "lethal" gene in that homozygosity is lethal but it's lethal at the blastocyst stage so it's not really an ethical problem imo. If it was lethal as in the pups deteriorate and die post partum, or if it caused well developed pups to die/be stillborn such that it caused the dam health risks, then it would be a problem. But, it doesn't. You just get smaller litters because some cells die way early on and get reabsorbed. I don't really have any problems with that. Show breeders cull litters down to 4-6 pups (for dam and pup health reasons), so it's not like all of them would be turning into adults anyway.
As for the genetic issues with the adult mice, there are three major health issues. The first is obesity (sort of), and the major problem there is keeping them in breeding shape (meaning, capable of doing the do at all). Curiously, in at least one study I remember seeing, there's a difference between an obese mouse of X color mutation and an AY that's considered obese because of its natural body type; for example, an obese black mouse will likely have a shortened lifespan, whereas an AY mouse doesn't (at least not less than any other mouse color mutation) unless it's obese for an AY. So this isn't really a problem as long as the breeder is watching their diet and ensuring they stay fit for their body type.
The other two genetic problems actually are health issues related directly to the AY gene, and that's being prone to diabetes and to tumors. However, these are both things that (any good) breeders would notice, cull, and therefore not breed forward, in order to keep the line as free from them as possible. Which really isn't any different than any other line that develops health problems of any sort. People don't keep health problems. A good breeder should be and usually is aware of the potential health problems in the lines they are breeding, particularly if it's a genetic one that can't be avoided (like you can't avoid AY if you're breeding AY), and will know what to look for and intervene as soon as possible. Diabetic mice urinate excessively so it's REALLY noticeable, and tumors... well. Hard to miss. And tumors of various sorts is a fairly common "select away from/cull" problem in any mutation, it's just slightly higher risk in AY.
So the short answer, in my opinion, AY isn't really an unethical gene to work with. It's not one I'd choose to work with, but I don't think the people who do are doing anything wrong just for working with the gene at all. It comes down to the same ethics as any other mutation; working to maintain body condition and selecting for health.
Honestly, out of all the animals I've seen bred and bred myself, I think mouse breeders in general have proven themselves to be the most concerned with what's best for the animal, not the breeder. The show clubs like FMBA and AFRMA etc won't recognize standards for things like snub noses or manx tails or anything else that would potentially seriously impact QoL by nature of existing at all, and at least in the groups I'm in, the members are not shy about recognizing when health problems mean no breeding for a mouse regardless of how pretty or sweet. When someone newer asks what to do, I've never seen anyone support trying to breed a mouse with issues, or usually even keep one whose QoL would be poor. They are very familiar with the kindest thing you can do is let them go. It's a breath of fresh air from the goddamn chicken groups, who will limp along any bird that's still breathing regardless of what's best for the bird.
I think the only morph I've seen that I have an ethical problem with is the X-brindle gene, which is a "brindle" gene on the X chromosome that causes the mouse to be unable to absorb copper. This means that the males DO founder and die after birth (which means most people just humanely euthanize the male pups, they aren't out here letting them suffer that I've seen), and females get a strange coat color and curled whiskers from low copper absorption. Does have a second X gene that's clean so they still can, but it's really an unnecessary mutation to continue imo. It hasn't been recognized by the show clubs that I know of, but idk if they can be shown under normal brindle or if you can tell at a glance, as I don't really know as much about them or any of the AY gene specifics. I have basic knowledge but since i don't breed them myself it's very in passing knowledge. I know it's rarely bred or worked with in the first place, and I hope it stays that way or disappears entirely.
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diamond-champagne · 2 months
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9. It'll Always Be You
Paige Beuckers x Azzi Fudd
Warnings: none :)
Summary: In which promises are made...and kept
a/n: The end is so close ya'll. Please let me know what yous want next. Also she's short but I love her.
It would be easier if they hated each other. It wouldn’t be this hard. The burning feeling ignited my anger so deep in them would be a welcomed relief of whatever this is. This a constant state of discontentment that has seemed to worm its way into their lives and settle down in their minds. 
It’s like being in a rocking chair and knowing you won’t fall but still feeling the panic that arises anyway. 
It’s like knowing you’re above the surface in the ocean and yet you feel like your lungs are filling with water
It’s like knowing everything is going to be okay but not knowing how.
-
Paige moves through the next couple of days the way the tide rolls in down the shore. She comes and she goes, day in and day out. 
To be fair, this is new to her. The blonde is used to fighting and then making up, or even fighting some more. However, this weird limbo of which they each hold a key to a lock they don’t have is scaringly unfamiliar. They used to be perfectly intertwined and now they’re chaotically tangled. Both pulling on random threads, having no clue if they want to be closer together or further apart. 
Paige is plagued with the will they, won’t they. Azzi and her are trapped playing this game of cat and mouse and she’s not sure who is who. The worst part is that she isn’t sure why they’re doing this because every time, since that conversation with Azzi, she feels like her forever is right in front of her. 
-
“I trust you with my life, just not my heart.”
“What does this mean for us?” Azzi whispers. Her body suddenly lags with defeat and upset clouds her eyes.
“It means,” Paige starts before letting out a sigh. “It means that maybe we need to figure out why we’re scared before we can face them.” She can see the protest rise in Azzi so the blonde is quick to keep speaking. “You said that sometimes my feelings were too much so maybe you need to figure out why that scares you. While you do that, I will figure out why I’m scared to trust you to love me.
“And once we do that?” 
“Once we get to the root of our fears, maybe we’ll be in a place where we can be more than friends.”
“Maybe?” Azzi sasses. The word might be the most offensive thing she’s ever heard.
“Maybe,” Paige confirms. “Because I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to be hurt. We can’t give each other the love we feel like the other deserves while being scared of said love.”
Azzi shakes her head in understanding. “And what if you decide this isn’t what you want anymore?” The question makes the brown-haired girl’s heart drum against her ribcage. 
It’ll always be you” Paige states. Despite the tears in both of their eyes, Azzi can see sincerity in her favorite pair of eyes. So, she smiles and counters with her own whispered promise. “It’ll always be us.”
So the two stand, facing each other, in this in-between space of friends and lovers. They bask in knowing there’s something yet mourn not having everything. It’s the definition of bittersweet. 
-
The memory is engraved into the blonde’s head the same those words are engraved into her heart. The spoken vowels play on repeat through her mind all day like her favorite song or the newest tik tok sound. She won’t forget these words though. They’ll always be hers to keep; always hers to love.
Until their day comes, Paige will savor the inbetween the best that she can. She’ll revel in the feeling of having Azzi’s eyes on her when they’re out with the team. She memorizes the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other when the pair sit next to each other. The blonde will make it a point to have their fingers touch in passing.
It’s the little things that make this worth it. It’s the little things that make Paige think that maybe they can rush this after all. But then, there’s a specific smile that Azzi has just for the blonde. And when Paige sees it, she knows that this is worth the wait.
But then she’s back to being restless and a little impatient. This much she tells Azzi in the bar bathroom at Ted’s when the girls are a little more free with their alcohol than usual. Tale as old as time and true as can be; Azzi and Paige will only want each other when a drop of liquor is involved. 
“I don’t remember why we’re doing this.” Paige mumbles. Azzi has got her trapped between her body and the sink. The curly-haired girl’s hands are tracing patterns on the blonde’s hip.
“You should. It was your idea.” Azzi answers smugly. The smirk on her face isn’t a result of their conversation but rather how the blonde is reacting to the mere feather touch by Azzi. Her blue eyes are low and hooded. Her body immediately pushes closer to Azzi’s upon contact. The voice that usually drips in confidence is breathy and broken. 
It’s a high that Azzi will never be free from. It’s her favorite version of Paige. The one she can ruin completely if you give her the opportunity. The brown-hair girl knows she should stop. They’re supposed to be taking things slow. But Paige is so perfect infront of her and neither one is sober at the moment so it’s easy to justify when their lips crash together. The kiss starts fast and desperate but ends being slow and passionate. It pulls small moans and whimpers from both girls as they indulge in each other.
When they finally pull apart, there is considerable distance between them. It’s like they both know that this is a bad idea. It’s like they both know they don’t care. But they stay separated at the whispered promise of “You” that Azzi lets out. 
“It’ll always be you.”
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iridiss · 2 years
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Returning to an old friend, my Cult of the Lamb x Night in the Woods crossover AU to expand on the concept of the relationships between the Bishops and their Witnesses. And also to finally give these characters proper designs! Under the cut is a helluva lot of writing elaborating on these 4’s history with their respective Bishops and their designs.
I’ve played around with the ideas of either having the Witnesses be anthropomorphic in their Eldritch Forms, matching the Follower designs and giving them the same level of autonomy as their minds possess, or to make them more beast-like, closer resembling Leshy/Heket/Shamura’s Eldritch Forms in their wildness, and closer resembling the animals they are. But in the end, I could tell that some characters, like Angus and Beatrice, would be better off beast-like, like a giant hulking bear made of trees and foliage and flowers that tries to crush you, or a crocodilian, Lovecraftian deep-sea “sea monster” that tries to snap you up from the watery depths, additionally as a small nod to the giant animals in Mae’s dreams (the bear and the crocodile.) But characters like Greggory and Lori especially would be more on the slightly anthropomorphic side in their Eldritch forms, with Gregg resembling a large and bloodied hound, and Lori being a mouse with too many eyes and too many slithering tails (as an additional reference to the Rat King or something Eldritch). Lori is still small, even smaller than Mae, but armors herself with a coat of spiders, who are a fundamental part of her attacking style. We’ve got an ancient Forest Lord, a brown bear that’s become one with the trees, a Bloodhound, a Lovecraftian sea monster from the dark Hadal Depths, and a rat that’s become one with the spiders in the attic.
As for their history with their Bishops, let me tell you a story of 4 parts.
——
The Gods were never kind to Angus.
Leshy’s rule was one of chaos, and Angus must’ve been the most orderly and logical person in the entire cult. Leshy believed in raw strength alone, and as a big brown bear, Angus guesses he had potential enough to be “worthy.” What a joke that was. He was the pawn of a child, breaking whatever Leshy threw a fit over. Being an incredibly prideful leader, Leshy made his own rule that none of his Witnesses could see better than him after Narinder’s betrayal robbed him of his eyes. So per Old Faith law, Angus’s sight was removed, completely. He learned to adapt to the viciousness of the wilderness, relying on his other senses to survive and keep himself in Leshy’s good graces. He grew more at home in the woods than he’d ever been before, he memorized how to make flower crowns and weave crafts out of grass. Over the decades, moss grew amongst his fur and dark branches from his head, with Camellia flowers woven into his fur. He may have been afraid of Leshy at first, when he was younger, but now he had grown to be nothing but tired. This was the way things were, this was the irrefutable demand of the universe and the beings that ruled his every breath. He was nothing more than a measly ant. There was no point in fighting it, when Leshy could strike him dead at a moments notice. “This is the way it must be,” he would say to his victims before their inevitable execution, “there is no other option.”
And then another option came in guns blazing, screaming and mowing down the Old Faith like a hurricane on acid. Almost overnight, Leshy was dead, Angus had been beaten, stripped of his power, and thrown into someplace new. Everything had changed.
At first this was every drop worth freaking out over, but…here, the night was serene, the mortals happy and oblivious of any harm, all the screaming had gone away. It was so quiet here.
The truth is, Angus was a gentle giant who’d much rather study the stars than go on bloody crusades. Mae’s new way took some getting used to, but it was worth it. He was cautious at first, not exactly cynical, but he would have been unsurprised the moment “a catch” manifested. He was slow to adjust, having lived his whole life still in one place. But in time, he realized the depths of the scars he bore from Leshy’s destructive rule, everything Leshy had done to him and forced him to do when all he cared for was soft flower petals and damp grass after summer rain. He had his quiet place now. He was finally free.
Helping him get through it, and understanding in his own unique way, was this little obnoxious coyote that Angus…vaguely remembered to be Heket’s Witness? He seemed sweet, sincere, fuzzy, a bit loud, but he understood. Maybe he’d be better off staying here for a while, with Mae, Gregg, all these happy little mortals, and whoever else comes along.
Greggory Lee had a purely militaristic bond with his General, the Goddess Heket. He was her best soldier, her hunting dog. He tracked down the heretics and runaways, and once he found them, he put an end to them, just as Heket commanded. Like a bloodhound to a rabbit, he was loyal. Except, Gregg will always be Gregg, so whenever he was under the impression that Heket was busy or not specifically watching him, he would go to town with whatever chaotic fun he wanted to have that day, consequences be damned. If she was all shout-y serious military business, then he was a wildfire let loose the second her grip loosened. And to a degree he was never fully aware of, his wild antics supported her empire with the sheer fear they instilled on the mortal civilians. At any time, War’s bloodhound could come raging through the village, pillaging whatever he thought was shiny or cool, blowing up whatever was combustible, setting fire to huts and ignorantly letting it spread, and if you opposed the Witness of War himself, you might just get eaten. The chaos was humbling. Gregg was never fully aware of the extent of the damage he caused, it was all good fun for him. That was the job, that was what he was made for, fun. He never quite saw their faces, just ran in, had a good laugh, and left. He was so bored, he might as well do something with his time.
It took a pretty extreme event in order to force him to see the full picture. His first ever doubts started to sink in during the great sheep extinction. The Old Faith had received a prophecy from Shamura: Death was coming. Their only hope to survive would be to kill every last sheep and ram on the continent. Only thing is, there was no way to make this not personal. To track down every last one, to get in their face, make eye contact, see their final moments, hear the screams up-close, feel the bodies go limp in the vulnerable snare of your own bloodied teeth. Becoming the very real version of a child’s worst nightmare, the bogey monster out to get them, was unavoidable. Gregg was…never quite the same, after that.
He was the first to fully and openly accept the death of the Old Faith, immediately embracing the new rule of—well, not exactly The One Who Waits, but Mae was pretty cool. He liked her. As a follower, Gregg is still a bit disaster-prone in the commune, occasionally setting things on fire on accident, but it always sends him into a panic that promptly cleans up whatever mess he makes. He’s a bit of a handful, but he’s incredibly loyal to Mae. He’s doing everything he can to be a good person now.
He had no bond with his Bishop. The only connection he had to the Old Faith was one he’d deeply regret for the rest of his life. Mae on the other hand, all she ever asked of him was to live happily and peacefully in a commune, she never asked him to massacre thousands of innocent souls for something as petty as a rule, or a God’s ego. Death to the Old Faith, he says. Why should he care?
Out of every Witness, Beatrice would have been with her God the longest. Her memories of a mortal childhood had grown fuzzy and distant. Beatrice devoted her whole life and future to Kallamar, giving up everything she had just for him. To her, devotion wasn’t something you did out of joy and love and reverence for your God, devotion was knowing how to survive. This was the way of life, and she would see to it that every last order was followed through with shining marks and perfection. And wherever Kallamar’s cowardice slacked, she would pick up the weight, she would carry his entire Kingdom on her two shoulders alone. This was survival, this was life, this was truth, this was wisdom, this was responsibility, this was reaching the top and staying the best of the best, the Queen of fear and order dictating the helm of an entire Empire crushed under her foot. When this was the brutal truth of reality and life, why would you waste time thinking about a happy merry-go-rainbows imaginary life, when you should be doing your job? She needed this. This was everything.
And then the Gods began to fall. Leshy had died. The ball had dropped. She didn’t know it was possible for a God to die, but sure, Leshy was of the weaker kingdoms. She should have seen it coming a mile away that the youngest runt of the Gods would eventually be snuffed out. But Mae kept going, and then Heket fell. The Goddess of War and Wrath, defeated.
Kallamar’s fears grew worse. The target fell on his back next, and Beatrice knew that sniveling coward couldn’t take the blow. She prepared herself to fight, her time had come, it was her throne to take. She was ready, but for some reason, she was trembling.
And then Kallamar was killed. The other shoe dropped.
Everything that Beatrice had been repressing for decades, maybe even centuries, came back to hit her in the face with a baseball bat. Mae had destroyed everything, and now the responsibility of bringing back the Old Faith and killing an unstoppable force had fallen on her shoulders, with everything else. The Land of the Old Faith was in crumbling disarray, and she desperately tried to fix it and put it back together in the 42 hours (or less) she had left to live. This was nothing more than a deranged little child, a single cat. She could beat her. She could fix it, she could fix everything—
She lost.
Something Beatrice was only able to realize after every last drop of responsibility withered away was just how exhausted she was. She was worn thin, hanging by a string that was tearing. When that string was finally cut, she could freefall, right into the comfort of a safe little idyllic, bright and merry, imaginary commune.
“What the fuck.” Was the first thing she said when she saw it.
You couldn’t just get rid of the Old Faith, you couldn’t just rewrite all of reality itself. Mae was only one woman, how could she possibly have stopped all this? But she did, and she had the insanity to keep going. What the absolute fuck. And worse yet, Mae had spared her life! She had the audacity to kill her captor and “set her free,” she had the audacity to break everything she’d ever known, thinking you could just let go?! This was unheard of!
But then again, Bea hadn’t taken a nap in decades. Actually, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever slept in the past century. She hadn’t ever experienced the peace and fun of dreaming. And now she had a schedule entirely of free time, whether she liked it or not. Beatrice…took a very long time to warm up to Mae. And it took even longer for the shock to fade, to stop feeling weird about this new, free place she was put in. Before Mae, she was overworked, slowly losing herself down the rabbit hole leading to a very dark place. And as time went on, she could finally see herself again, and as she looked at the other Witnesses playing in the grass and making gay little flower crowns, she realized what she could have become if she continued to silently, secretly fall apart. She…could be happy now. Maybe. She’d have to find out if that was even possible…
She also had to admit it was incredibly satisfying to see Narinder, the last God, doing janitorial work while she could sit back and sip on her pina colada made of Darkwood berries. If only she could have seen Kallamar finally do his job while she took a much-needed break.
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Lori Meyers was a young, mortal mouse, always the outcast amongst her peers and village-mates. She preferred to keep to herself, hidden far away in the dark that was comfortable, that was predictable, that was beautiful. She found things like bugs, gore, guts, the night, horror—especially spiders, she loved spiders— she found them to be so cool, but for some reason, no one else did. And that made her the weird one. Growing up, all of these things that she was told by her peers deeply got to her, making her quick to become quite anxious before she’d ever share a cool looking bug with someone she liked, because it never turned out well. She wanted to be fine, isolated all by herself in her dimly-lit caves infested with spiders, earwigs and centipedes, she was the only person she ever needed—but even still, she always wanted to have someone to talk to. She would kill to have someone that would hear her talk about how centipedes and millipedes have these super epic pores that shoot out hydrogen cyanide gas that poisons their prey- or- or how cool and exceptional it is that jumping spiders have the brain power to effectively use the scientific method by constantly studying their environment and learning from their mistakes!
And like a miracle of the Gods, she did find someone.
Shamura and Lori likely had the most positive relationship out of all the Bishops and their Witnesses. Lori was scared of them at first—and that never truly goes away, when you’re dealing with a mighty Deity of the Old Faith. But when she spoke, they listened, and in response, they showed her new things to study. When she posed curiosity in unknown species of insect and creature, they would lift her up into the treetops with their colossal, claw-like legs and show her the truth. Shamura cultivated her mind, gave her all the resources and books she needed to learn and grow and become the true scholar her peers could never be. She learned fast, she had a quick wit, and a love for learning all that Shamura’s realm shined best in, and thus she quickly seated herself, obliviously, as the best heir to their throne.
An apprentice to follow in their shadow, a student for only the greatest of minds. The only thing is, she was so young…some way or another, she would have to grow up into a monster. A killer, an executioner, a judge. That would be where the doubt set in for Lori. She only wanted to learn, she never wanted things to come to this, but when not only your God but your closest friend gives you an order…
Lori was devastated with Shamura’s defeat. Her only ally was dead, she was alone again, and to make everything worse, she was the very last line of defense meant to stop Narinder from taking over the world. On one hand, she felt very small, and still very much a child, but on the other hand, she was full of rage and covered in millions of tiny spiders that could feel her grief as much as she. She still ended up losing, reluctantly succumbing to The Witness of Death and becoming a follower. She clung the most to Beatrice in the cult, as the best person who could understand her, but also as someone who tolerated her ramblings. It took her a while to warm up to Mae, and to fully understand the necessity of Shamura’s death. That would come with time and years of gradual reflection as she grew up in Mae’s cult.
The lesson that Lori would teach Mae about the Gods would be two things, one directly from Lori, and one indirectly from her. One would be how much Lori would challenge her faith in TOWW without ever truly dissenting, acting as a mirror for what TOWW’s horrors might look like. The other would be Mae looking at how Shamura kidnapped this child, isolated her from her family and parents, and raised her to be a murderer against her will, and how much indoctrination and manipulation goes into a cult just to make someone still fully believe in their leader even well after they’ve been seriously hurt by them. Lori was a more complicated case than Angus or even Gregg, but she still had her scars. And if Lori had been tricked by the Gods, had Mae been tricked as well? To what degree did TOWW suffer the same flaws as his siblings, to what degree was Mae a gullible child in the hands of a master manipulator, to what degree was this right? Was serving these Gods even worth it? What if she only did what she wanted? What if she just wanted to be happy? What if she was like all four witnesses before her, what if she threw her bat away and rejected this Old God’s offer? Sure, she was small, sure, she was an insect screaming against a mountain, but damn it, they only wanted to be happy. Mae, Angus, Gregg, Beatrice, Lori, all of them.
But this time, she could do something about it. She was the God-Killer. She could make it whatever she wanted, and Narinder would be a fool if He thought she wasn’t going down without a fight.
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rogueshadeaux · 2 years
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Silly little Stardew Valley headcanons of mine no one asked for.
I'm back in it lol.
Shane has heterochromia iridium, though not many notice it at first. His left eye is a soft brown, while his right is a deep green. It honestly looks like a trick of the light at first - both of his eyes seem that dark green, one stuck in the shadows from his lolling head as he avoids people's eyes.
Alex is mixed. Sorry (I'm not).
Also, it's Alexandre.
Elliot doesn't use hairties. It's those little clips you use that have like. teeth. you know the ones. Leah got him one of a translucent butterfly as a joke and uh...it now sits at the base of the potted rose on his desk for when he writes.
Mayor Lewis is only mayor because no one's bucked up to run. The people would unanimously vote for the Rusty Spoon you regularly find on your farm if it was on the ballot.
It was Shane's little sister that died and lead to him being Jas' guardian. Jas looks too much like her, and it causes so much pain for Shane.
Also Shane's little sister is Mona, the only headstone you can read in the graveyard.
You know how you can look in Jas' room and her dollhouse is quoted as: "The little family is gathered around the dinner table. Wait...except Grandpa. He's shoved under the bed for some reason." Yeah I like to pretend that's an allegory. Grandpa is the boogeyman under the bed, and maybe the reason Jas is in Shane's care.
when Shane starts his sobriety journey, he finds surprising friends in...Alex and Haley? Alex and he are all about gridball - Shane was semi-pro, after all, a player in college - and Haley's blunt rebukes amuse him. She has the same style of banter as he does. You can catch them on the beach, Shane and Alex throwing around a gridball while Haley is on the side, sunbathing and making fun of them (lovingly).
Linus is a reflection of the nature magic of the Valley - like the bear or the hat mouse. It's why he and Rasmodius are close friends and regularly near each other at festivals; they're arcane users. Linus more so lives in it as an equal rather than a wielder.
This isn't a headcanon but why the fuck doesn't stardew valley have a school. I bet none of these fuckers know what a hypotenuse is.
ELLIOT IS A MERPERSON. You know how Ariel runs away from home for the trinkets of the land? That but storytelling. I am not original in this one but I KNOW it's true. I feel it in my junimos.
Abigail isn't Rasmodius' child. Emily is.
Penny and Sebastian are exes, but in like, a middle school way. I am not elaborating.
Granny and the player's grandfather were childhood friends.
George is a war veteran.
The Travelling Cart transports refugees. It's why they go to the Gotoro Empire to begin with.
George knew his way around mines, and was quite the adventurer. He, Marlon and Gil know each other. Well.
Sam just has one of those personalities where he’s only two degrees away from being a friend to EVERYONE in town. Gets Shane to crack up in the Joja Mart break room, is interested in the prose of Elliot’s writing (he’s a writer himself, after all - songs are just poems). He’s like a dog, everyone just gravitates towards him.
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michellemouse · 7 months
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Hey!!
I had planned to show this...
Before I had already shown something about Mortimer's family but now I thought about creating two more members becuz... BECUZ YES, WHY NOT?🤷‍♀️
Mortimer's nephews would be the rivals of Morty and Ferdie (on the boy's side) Millie and Melody (same but on the girl's side)
The girl would represent her uncle's elegant and narcissistic personality. She would throw any tantrum to get what she wants no matter what
The boy would represent his uncle's fun and rude personality. Although compared to his sister hes the dumbest and most innocent (he also seeks to be the coolest of all)
None of them have a love interest for any of their rivals, wakala!
•Fun facts:
Theyre children of Ivy Mouse
Only the boy appreciates his uncle, the other does not much becuz she considers her uncle a ridiculous/pathetic man🤦‍♀️🥺
They don't have names... that's why I call them "boy" and "girl"/srs (L bozo)
I have no idea what colors they will use, but I'm sure the girl will wear yellow and the boy will wear brown🤷‍♀️
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The boy usually wears black glasses to look cool (only in a modern redesign or in parallel to DuckTales)🕶✨️
If they knew "Uncle Sylvester" they wouldn't give him much importance and/or would call him a "bitter old man"🫤😒🙄
If u have any suggestions u can tell me ;)!!
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CHARACTER SHEET ⋆.˚
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FULL NAME. daniel 'danny' west NICKNAME. danny / chatterbox PRONOUNS. he/him SIZE. 5'5 AGE. twenty five ZODIAC. leo SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english, a lil spanish
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ―
HAIR. fluffy and curly, shortish- curls around his ears and the back of his neck. bleached blonde with visible brown roots because he doesn't get it professionally done EYES. expressive and large, framed with long dark lashes. a soft baby blue that shimmers when he talks about things he's excited about SKIN TONE. pale, with a pink undertone- his nose and cheeks turn red easily when flustered, cold, sick, or intoxicated BODY TYPE. slender, medium-sized VOICE. loud, prone to cracking- has a faint southern accent that becomes stronger when he's tired or intoxicated DOMINANT HAND. can use both hands, the right more so than the left POSTURE. has pretty bad posture and is always slouching SCARS. pink scars under his pecs from top surgery, and faint scars on his inner left arm, faded and not noticeable unless you're really looking BIRTHMARKS. birthmark that looks like mickey mouse on his neck, slight discoloration, often mistaken for a hickey MOST NOTABLE FEATURES. fluffy hair, baby face, and young features that often have him mistaken for someone younger
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ―
PLACE OF BIRTH. in a hospital HOMETOWN. lookout mountain, georgia SIBLINGS. two half-siblings; mandy and kyle. PARENTS. charlotte berkman + walter west
𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ―
OCCUPATION. works at a comic book store, and does standup comedy in bars and clubs CURRENT RESIDENCE. california CLOSE FRIENDS. his best friend + favorite person (fp) Is vicky jones, a sassy yet patient girl who studies photography FINANCIAL STATUS. doesn't make a whole lot, but makes sure to spoil his cat. lives in an apartment, furnished with quirky decor DRIVER'S LICENSE. yes, has an orange volkswagen convertible beetle CRIMINAL RECORD. none, yet VICES. avoidance, sweets, weed, binge watching tv shows, self deprecation
𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ―
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bisexual with a preference for men. has a very high sex drive PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. a bottom, but can be both dominant and submissive- a versatile bottom, I guess TURN OFFS. there's not a lot that turns him off lol other than, like, misgendering him or using feminine terms TURN ON'S. praise, degradation (yes both), manhandling, kissing, touching in general LOVE LANGUAGE. physical touch + words of affirmation RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. danny is a hopeless romantic who desperately wants to be loved, but at the same time thinks no one will be able to love him. his borderline personality disorder skews how he perceives love. he is devoted to his partner, often giving them cute things or showering them with praises and flirtations. he's had a few toxic exes, as he tends to draw in horrible people who use him... he's never had a good relationship. he can be clingy and touchy.
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ―
CHARACTER'S THEME TUNE.   most likely talk too much by coin, or man or muppet from that one muppets movie HOBBIES TO PASS THE TIME.   writing new material, playing roblox or Minecraft, watching horror movies or old comedies, and reading comics LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL. danny has a low self esteem because of his mother. he's very insecure and often gets jealous because of how little he likes himself. he can appear cocky and arrogant, but it's simply a farce... prone to self deprecating jokes
tagging: YOU!! say i tagged you!
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brainrotting over a purpleswap au where Psychic and Void switch roles but not personalities
Psychic is a rising singer and musician who joined the Dearests' record label way back in its early days, as an expression of loyalty after DD freed him from hell. they were planning on just using his talent to their advantage, probably to advance GF's career, and tossing him aside when they were done with him...but that never happened. DD ended up getting attached to him and keeping him around, and he's become a star in his own right. he's the longest-lasting singer to work with the Dearests, and the oldest.
he knows about the Dearests' corruption and is a willing participant in it all. like his classic counterpart, he's serious and quiet, and has a sarcastic sense of humor. he values loyalty and competence, and has no problem with getting his hands dirty so the Dearests come out on top. he's a bit more outwardly arrogant than classic!Psychic, even condescending to some people, but he genuinely cares for the Dearests and has become close coworkers and friends with Girlfriend. he's still got his mouse companion Jen, but she's probably a brown mouse whereas the original is a very pale grey. just for the heck of it lol
Void is a begrudging servant of the Dearests, along with the Accretions, although they have different roles and Void is still their superior. He hates his job. He still needs an ego check and is fully convinced he's meant to be so much greater. The only reason he's still working under the Dearests is because he's waiting to save up enough that he can leave and start his own career as a singer. He's even willing to take the Accretions along, if they agree to work for him. none of them are as close to the Dearests as classic!Psychic, they're just there. Void's just as egotistical and prone to anger as his original counterpart, but he doesn't have as much of the luxury to show it. he usually ends up taking his frustrations out on the Accretions, when the Dearests aren't around.
Jet is a stray cat that Void found and took in without the Dearests' knowledge. DD hates animals, and GF loves cats. Void doesn't want them to take Jet for any reason, so he makes sure Jet doesn't come by when they can find out. unbeknownst to Void, Psychic knows about the cat that's been coming by to see him but he hasn't bothered to say anything about it.
of course, each knows that the other exists. they don't like each other. lmao
Void resents Psychic for what he sees as having it all, and thinks he could far outdo Psychic in the music industry if he only had the resources. Psychic doesn't care for Void's better-than-you attitude and finds it ill-fitting on a lowly servant. he usually ignores Void, but dislikes the lack of respect V has for the Dearests.
however, everything changes when Boyfriend enters the picture.
Psychic's a little protective of GF, and although he respects her and wants her to make her own choices, he still doesn't like BF. he finds the boy's lack of tact a little reminiscent of Void. Void resents BF for much the same reasons as he does Psychic, but BF is annoying to boot, making him worse in V's opinion. it's at this point that they have a common ground where they can start building their halfhearted friendship.
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deliciouspirateangel · 4 months
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ranting about pll os ss for longer than anyone cares to read <3
this show is so bad lasjfslkd. it is not a pretty little liars show. it wants to be scream the series or some other horror show so bad
what are the girls even lying about at this point?? they're not covering anything up. there are no hidden secrets snowballing into huge obstacles. the rapist's mom thinks they're liars but we know they arent
and i hate how besides tabby and imogen, none of the girls have relationships with one another. every episode is like. a scene of the five of them. then mouse with her boring boyfriend, faran with her boring boyfriend, tabby with her boring boyfriend, imogen with her boring boyfriend, noa with her boring boyfriend and weird not girlfriend. then a scene of the five of them again. its so disjointed
in all the episodes so far, i can think of ONE scene with a different pair interacting and its when imogen goes with faran instead of tabby to confront kelly, and it was for like thirty seconds in that last episode we just watched
also what is up with that girl noa is fooling around with?? like they have history, sure, but she is not worth this trouble. and why are all her friends so gung ho about it? do they not know she's literally cheating on her boyfriend? like hooray queer rep but girl. break up with your boyfriend or dont fool around with a girl on the sideee. especially not one thats gotten in trouble for breaking into two houses in the last like five days lmao bruh
i hate how tabby and faran look identical since they made faran stop straightening her hair. none of the girls have a distinct enough style to differentiate between them, and those two have the exact same skin color and hair texture and like. general build. hooray for diversity also but we cant get a darker skinned girl? a girl with braids? buzzed hair? or an extra short or extra tall girl or god forbid a fat girl? something so i can better tell who's who when they're running for their lives in the woods at night lmao
i also cant tell any of the boys apart cause 95% of them are white boys with brown hair but i care not at all about them at all sooo
imogen said that bloody rose looked like her mom but i think she was hallucinating again. it could be a twin thing but idk. they subverted the obvious "x twin dies but it was actually y twin" thing in s1 so maybe they'll subvert the "imogen's mom had a secret twin" thing that we're all expecting now? either way, they sure didnt feel like filming that scene and showing it to us
i also thought that scene where imogen grabs the ax to kill the power was so weird. i mean its not like i need to see her taking every single step in the process of walking over to the ax, picking it up, walking to the power thing, and swinging. but it still felt like an editing mistake or like some frames were missing lol
oh anyway i think bloody rose is kelly's mom but they'll try to subvert this by having kelly get attacked. but like she's a crazy religious nut and wants to cleanse the town of its sins and also that dog she had totally looked like one of the police dogs and her husband was a cop sooo. thats my guess
oh and i hate the character assassination of doctor sullivan and making her take the ezra fitz route by writing a book. that was just so weird and dumb and surely she would know better. maybe they realized they didnt really have any suspects so they tried to scrounge up a few really quick? idk man
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lemontongues · 1 year
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mkay here's the short story! i wrote it about 5 years ago and have done a bit of cleaning up on it, but it's still basically the same as the original. it's based on this prompt from r/writingprompts:
"You are a God/Goddess who is dying due to not having any followers. That is until one day you feel a sacrifice made in your honor, when you look down you see a cat with a dead mouse."
word count: 1,644
content warnings: themes and non-violent depictions of animal death. cat lovers in particular may want to tread lightly; please take care of yourself!
enjoy!
*
There’s nothing.
For a long, long time, there’s been nothing. You remember, vaguely, but not much. You remember that the others had spoken of this in only the faintest of whispers, in quiet, shaky words quickly hushed.
You don’t see anymore. You used to. You can recall that there were colors, shapes, motions. There were sounds, too, tastes and smells, although you’re not sure what they were like anymore. You think people used to bring you such things, things with shapes and scents and colors. Bright and lovely, and you know that you were happy. They were displays of affection, devotion, resentment, longing, pretty trinkets and delicious morsels wrapped in the glorious and chaotic tapestry of emotion that humans always wore so well.
But lately everything has seemed so dim.
There’s nothing, except for the deep, dreadful knowing that you are dying the slow and unforgiving death of the forgotten god.
.
There’s air in your lungs.
There’s air in your lungs, and you gasp, choking. It’s harsh and warm and wonderful all at once, your chest too full and too empty, your throat burning as it works desperately. Your eyes fly open, and it’s almost too much to bear. You see again, and you feel, the blue of the sky and the heat of the sun and the metallic taste of your own, golden blood in your mouth as you weep and retch and shudder.
You don’t know how long it takes before the world resolves into something more than dazzling flashes of sensation, something you can parse. There are still tears coursing down your cheeks, leaving warm, itchy tracks along your skin, but no part of you can bear the thought of wiping them away, not when they feel like something.
You think it might be a long time before the heaving of your shoulders eases and the tears dry on your face, and it’s enough of a marvel that you still have a face, a body, an existence, that you almost forget what brought you back in the first place.
There it is. A tiny tug at the back of your mind, the faintest sensation of… annoyance, maybe? Impatience? It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything like it that you’re not sure you still have the words for it. Still, someone is waiting for you, and you push yourself to your feet, reveling in the pressure against your palms and the sharp ache of your knees.
You find yourself in the most sacred chamber of your dwelling, where you had lain yourself down in desperate hope, to be closer to prayers that had long since stopped coming. It almost makes you ill to look at it now, a wave of nausea that still thrills you as you gaze around yourself at the grave of your own choosing.
It doesn’t look so lovely as it once did. Most of the temple doorways have crumbled, collapsed, been dusted with snow or soot or shot through with creeping greenery. None of them are carefully tended to, clean and cheerful the way you remember them, and only a scant few still stand at all.
The tugging at the back of your head turns you slowly, trying to recall how you used to do this, follow that sensation to the source of the prayer. The feeling leads you left, and your eyes scan each ruined altar, but you can’t find—
There.
So small you nearly miss it. A faint, steady swishing like a paintbrush against a canvas, and a tiny splash of red against an altar that’s covered in the dusty brown and jeweled green of forest dirt and moss.
You’re not ready for the emotions that swell in you at the sight. An offering. After so long, so many years waiting, so many ages in the suffocating half-death of an immortal, someone has found you again. Joy and grief overwhelm you as you approach your own altar on your knees, awestruck and elated. Prickling wetness blurs your vision, but you reach out and cup the precious offering in trembling hands.
It’s small and soft and just barely warm, brownish and red and faintly damp. Raising it to your face, you blink away the tears.
It’s a dead mouse.
You don’t drop it. You don’t vomit, although that stubborn wave of nausea rises in your throat again. You cup it to your chest, press your lips carefully against it, just as you did long ago with the most precious of humanity’s hand-crafted offerings, the finest jewelry, the most savory and sumptuous of meals left at your altar. You try not to weep again as you bow solemnly to your lone worshipper. Your voice is a broken whisper, but you mean every word.
“Beloved child, you have done me the greatest of services. You have saved me from a lonely and terrible death, and I will be forever in your debt. Should you ever need my blessing or my guidance, you need only call upon me, for so long as you or your descendants walk this earth.”
The small, brindled cat blinks once, slowly, and stalks off with its tail in the air.
.
There’s an impressive collection of mouse skeletons in your chamber.
Each one is carefully preserved, the tiny bones laid out neatly in chronological order, and you remember each offering fondly. Hers are all in one corner close to your dais, with the smaller but growing collections from each of the kittens grouped below. You know you’ll run out of room eventually and have to start exploring what’s left of the other rooms in your old home to find more space for your treasures, but all this time it’s just felt like too daunting a task.
You wonder, sometimes, if the other gods know what you’re up to, if they think you odd or foolish. They probably felt you wake up, although you haven’t seen hide nor hair of any of them. You haven’t missed them. It’s good enough to be alive, to have one small follower and her broods of offspring to worship you in their strange way.
You can’t remember what you used to be the god of. You think by now, you’re probably a god of cats.
Maybe that’s why you’ve had an uncomfortable feeling prickling in the back of your mind for a long time now. It’s been stewing at the base of your skull, creeping slowly down your spine, a cold, shuddering feeling that’s too close to knowing for your own comfort.
Her fur is duller than it used to be. There’s cloudiness in her eyes, a hesitation in her smooth gait. It’s all too familiar; you ignored it, ignored it, ignored it until it was too late for you, but in her body, it’s impossible not to recognize.
You’ve had many followers in your time. Many who adored you, loved you so passionately they would have poured out their own lifeblood for your satisfaction, had you been such a god. Many who wept to you, begged you, kept their faith in you until their dying breath, and who you tried to do right by. You had loved them all, from the most devout to the most cynical half-believers, even those who had come to revile you when you couldn’t turn their luck.
But none of them have been so precious to you as the cat. You still think of her that way, although there are many cats now. The cat saved you, that first day and every day after, and the cat has been faithful even as she turns her back on you, disdains you, ignores your promises and your blessings. At first, you hadn’t known what to make of her, not after a lifetime of obvious, elaborate displays of human affection. Slowly, you’ve come to realize that she loves you, too, in her own capricious way.
You know what’s coming, in the same way that you knew, in a quiet, awful corner of your mind, what was coming when you laid down that last time.
.
The cat is at your altar again.
No, not quite—the cat is on your altar, and dreadful understanding washes through you as you watch her. She stumbles, her paws not quite holding her, and you want to reach out and catch her, to comfort her in her final moments, but such a crossing is impossible for you. Her children and grandchildren are there, all around the altar as far back as you can see, rows and rows of them sitting eerily silent, solemn and watching.
She stumbles, and your heart wrenches. You weep bitterly, and though you know you must watch these final moments, the greatest offering you’ll ever receive, you can’t seem to wipe the tears away fast enough to clear your vision. With awful finality, she topples, collapsing against the stone she’s spent years sweeping slowly clean with her tail, and you feel her last heartbeat as your own, a thousand times worse than any death you could ever suffer. The permanence of it clutches at you, the helplessness bleeding you dry, and you howl your despair, blind with pain as the grief scrapes you raw.
For a long time, you cover your face with your hands, lost to your own shame and suffering, to the piercing ache of a loneliness that the cat had spent her life rescuing you from, one dead mouse at a time. You cry in a way you never have before, shuddering sobs rolling through you like waves, so huge and fast they nearly choke you.
The loss of her, the terrible knowledge that the little creature who saved you over and over again is gone now, forever beyond your immortal reach, is overwhelming. So overwhelming, so suffocating, that you almost miss the impatient swat of a paw against your knee.
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13. THE ROMANIAN COVEN
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MY CURIOSITY PIQUED, I DECIDED TO FIND out where it came from, eager to uncover the mystery that had set me off in such a hurry. The anticipation was building inside me like a storm gathering strength, each step taking me closer to the unknown. My mind raced with possibilities, each more fantastical than the last, as I pushed through the underbrush, determined to find the source of this compelling call.
"Violet, wait!" Ingram shouted, following after me. His voice was tinged with urgency, but I couldn't stop. Not now.
I ran with great speed, the wind whipping through my hair and the leaves crunching beneath my feet. Every fiber of my being was focused on the destination, driven by an inexplicable need to reach it before it was too late. The forest blurred around me, a kaleidoscope of green and brown, as my feet pounded the earth in a relentless rhythm.
Finally, I saw Carlisle coming to a stop by a large boulder, and I skidded to a halt beside him. My eyes widened as I took in the scene before me—a pack of wolves, four in total, lounging on the ground. Tanya, Kate, and Eleazar were there too, with Kate more ready to attack than her coven. The brown wolf was snarling, his gaze fixed on two male vampires who were sitting nearby, taunting him. Ingram caught up with me, standing right beside me, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
As I looked closer, I realized that the brown wolf was none other than Jacob Black, the fierce and loyal protector of the Quileute tribe. He was training the new shapeshifters when the vampires had shown up, spoiling for a fight. The realization hit me like a wave, bringing with it a mix of fear and awe. Jacob was a formidable opponent, but these vampires were clearly looking for trouble.
I watched the tense standoff between the two groups, wondering what would happen next. Would the vampires back down, or would they attack? And what would Jacob do if they did? The forest was silent, the air thick with anticipation, as we all waited to see how this deadly game of cat and mouse would play out. It felt like the world was holding its breath, every creature in the vicinity aware of the potential for violence.
On the right stood a man with hair as pale as the ashes of a dying fire. His eyelashes were so light they almost appeared to be made of pale grey feathers. He was draped in simple black garments that could have been mistaken for modern fashion, but there was something about them that hinted at a bygone era. His skin was as powdery as a sheet of parchment, and his eyes were a deep, rich burgundy that seemed to glow in the dim light. There was an air of ancient power about him, a sense that he had seen centuries pass and had emerged unscathed.
To his left stood a shorter man with dark, downy hair that contrasted sharply with his friend's ashy locks. His eyes were the same deep burgundy as the other man's, and he too was dressed in simple black clothing that seemed to belong to another time. Like his companion, his skin had a powdery quality to it, as if he were made of finely ground bone. The two of them together looked like they had stepped out of a forgotten legend, their presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Carlisle gazed up at the two men, taking in their otherworldly appearance. His expression was calm, but there was a tension in his posture that spoke of the gravity of the situation.
"Vladimir," he addressed the ashy-haired male, his eyes flickering to the other. "Stefan, you're a long way from home."
Kate's voice cut through the air, "What are they doing here?" Her tone was sharp, edged with suspicion and a hint of fear.
"We heard that the Volturi are moving against you," Vladimir's voice was a smooth melody, "and knew you would not stand alone." His words were almost musical, but there was an underlying menace that was hard to ignore.
"We didn't do anything we were accused of," Carlisle stated firmly. His voice was steady, but I could hear the strain beneath the surface. This was a dangerous game they were playing.
"We do not care what you did, Carlisle," Vladimir's tone remained unchanged, as if he were discussing the weather. "We have waited for a millennium," Stefan's voice was a darker harmony, "for the Italian scum to be challenged.”
Their patience was astounding. Did they know Gabriel too? The thought crossed my mind, adding another layer of complexity to an already confusing situation.
"We have no intention of fighting the Volturi," Carlisle explained. His words were measured, each one carefully chosen.
Vladimir feigned sadness, "What a shame. Aro's witnesses will be disappointed." There was a mocking quality to his voice that made my skin crawl.
Stefan chuckled, "They do enjoy a good fight." His laughter was dark, filled with a kind of twisted amusement.
"Aro's witnesses?" Eleazar's voice held concern. The mention of witnesses seemed to unsettle him deeply.
Vladimir's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Still hoping they'll listen?" His eyes gleamed with a malicious light.
I couldn't help but ask, "Where are you from? Carlisle mentioned you traveled a long way." My voice sounded small and uncertain in the heavy silence.
"We hail from Romania, child," Stefan replied. His tone was condescending, as if he were speaking to someone much younger and less knowledgeable.
Why did other vampires insist on calling me 'child' or 'little one'? It was infuriating, but I bit back my retort.
"We are the Romanian Coven," Vladimir added, and I stared at them blankly. The name rang a bell, but I couldn't place it immediately.
I remembered hearing about the Romanian Coven in Gabriel's stories about the war with them and the Volturi. Those tales had always seemed like distant history, but now they were standing right in front of me, flesh and blood—or whatever it was that made up their immortal forms.
In a flash, I blinked and turned my gaze towards Carlisle. His golden eyes bore into mine, his lips curling inwards as he lowered his head and folded his arms. It was as if he knew something about Gabriel's origin, something that only those in the Volturi could possibly know. The weight of his knowledge pressed down on me, adding to the growing sense of unease that filled the clearing.
Without a second thought, Ingram and I raced back to the Cullens' home, my heart pounding in my chest. My family was there, except for Ethan, who was nowhere to be found. The Irish Coven was also present, and I sprinted towards them, desperate to share my news.
"Dad," I said, catching Gabriel's attention. "Do you remember the battle with the Romanian Coven?"
He looked at me, confused. "Yes, why?"
"Two of them are here," Ingram explained urgently. "And if they have witnesses of their own, it's not going to be good for us."
"The Romanian Coven has witnesses?" Simon asked incredulously.
"No," I shook my head. "The Volturi does."
Gabriel's reaction was explosive. "What? How is that possible? The Cullens are the ones on trial, not them!"
Helena walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his right arm in a protective gesture. "Why would they have witnesses?" she asked.
"I don't know," I admitted, and Maggie nodded in agreement.
"Their names are Vladimir and Stefan," Ingram added to the conversation. "I don't know if those names mean anything to you, Gabriel."
Gabriel's gaze was fixed on something in the distance, and Helena held onto him tightly. Simon and Alana got up to follow his gaze, and Joseph and Rhona did the same. The Irish Coven watched on in silence.
I turned to see what had captured their attention, and my heart sank. Vladimir and Stefan were standing by the door, their eyes fixed on Gabriel with a bitter intensity.
The tension in the air was palpable as Gabriel and the Romanian coven locked eyes in a stare-down. The deep burgundy eyes of Vladimir and Stefan taunted Gabriel's golden orbs, daring him to make a move. The Irish coven stood back, watching the scene unfold with bated breath.
Vladimir was the first to break the silence, his voice smooth yet dripping with taunts. "Well, well, well. Look who's got a coven of his own," he said, his eyes flickering over to Stefan.
Stefan tilted his head in agreement. "Gabriel has certainly come a long way," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his features. He sighed and stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. "Vladimir, Stefan," he greeted them. "It's been a while since we last met."
"Indeed it has," Vladimir replied, his smile fake and mocking. "We've travelled far to see you."
Stefan's eyes narrowed. "We know you used to work for the Italians," he said accusingly.
Gabriel remained calm. "I left centuries ago," he said simply.
Vladimir chuckled. "And why's that? It isn't for control or power, is it?"
Gabriel's expression remained impassive, but there was a steely edge to his voice. "I left because I wanted something more than power. I wanted a family. I wanted peace."
Vladimir's smile didn't waver. "Peace? Is that what you call this?" He gestured around the room, indicating the tense faces of the Cullens, the Irish Coven, and the assembled wolves.
Gabriel's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and determination. "Yes, Vladimir. Peace. And I will do everything in my power to protect it."
"Let me guess," Vladimir said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Some of them have powers of their own."
Joseph spoke up, trying to deflect the attention away from us. "Hey, I'm not helping you guess which one," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Gabriel's voice boomed across the clearing. "Enough, Vladimir. We're not here to fight."
Vladimir laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, Gabriel. Always so aggressive," he said, adding insult to injury.
The stare-down continued, the tension mounting with each passing moment. It was clear that this was only the beginning of a long and difficult battle.
"We're merely suggesting that we have a certain level of familiarity with the Volturi," Stefan spoke softly, his words laced with a hint of caution. "Especially when it comes to vampires with extraordinary abilities."
Gabriel's demeanour shifted, his once composed facade crumbling before my eyes. The mere mention of the Volturi had the power to reduce him to a shell of his former self.
"I'm sure you're well aware of their reputation," Stefan murmured, his voice tinged with a dark edge. "Thanks to the infamous witch twins.”
"The witch twins?" Simon's voice cut through the tense silence.
"Jane and Alec," Gabriel replied, his eyes never leaving the two vampires before him.
The room was consumed by an eerie stillness as Vladimir and Stefan exchanged a knowing glance. Gabriel remained frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the pair before him. Vladimir's deathly stare bore into him, a silent warning of the danger that lurked in the shadows.
"Do you really want to risk losing any of them like we did?" Vladimir's voice cut through the tense silence, his eyes piercing into each of us.
Gabriel's golden eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists. The table shifted slightly, as if it were about to launch itself at the Romanians.
Stefan stood with his hands in his pockets, a smug expression on his face. "To be perfectly honest," he drawled, "we hope that this controversy caused by the child will finally destroy the Volturi."
I felt a surge of anger rise within me, my hair lifting slightly and my teeth grinding together. "We're not fighting them," my father said firmly. "We'll tell them it was just a misunderstanding.”
"But it's not Renesmee's fault," I interjected. "It was-"
"We don't care whose fault it was, girl," Stefan interrupted, his tone dismissive.
"Well, you should care," I retorted, folding my arms across my chest. "We're all here right now because of it."
"You senseless child!" Vladimir bellowed, his face turning red with anger.
I heard Ingram growling behind me but it was Gabriel who responded.
"Don't yell at my daughter!" His voice thundered through the room, and the table lifted off the ground, hurtling towards the Romanians.
Stefan caught the table with ease, throwing it to the ground with a loud crash. Gabriel referred to me as his daughter, and I couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. But the Romanians were chuckling, their eyes glinting with amusement.
"Daughter, huh?" Vladimir sneered. "By that, you mean you turned her?"
"She joined as a newborn," Gabriel explained, his voice calm and measured.
"Really? You both look so alike," Stefan remarked, his eyes flickering between us. "But there's one small, minuscule detail," he further drawled, his voice dripping with sly amusement. "Are you prepared to sacrifice your entire coven for it?"
Vladimir interjected with a sharp retort, his words slicing through the tense air like a knife. "Just like we lost ours?"
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted from uneasy to downright hostile. Gabriel lunged forward, his teeth bared in a feral snarl, and the Romanian vampires responded with a menacing growl as they charged towards him. Then, Ingram grabbed my arm and pulled me closed to him, clearly not wanting me to get involved with it. Helpless, we could only watch as he engaged in a fierce battle with his opponents. He moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior, his movements fluid and calculated as he fought tooth and nail.
In the days of his vampire youth, Gabriel was a guard in the Volturi, fighting for power against the likes of Vladimir and Stefan. In the heat of fight, he landed a punch on Vladimir's stomach, but the Romanian retaliated by grabbing hold of his face and pushing him away. Stefan then kicked Gabriel in the chest, causing him to stumble back.
Undeterred, Gabriel stretched out his hands and sent his opponents flying back into the wall, their backs colliding with a resounding thud. They sneered at him, but my father was not one to back down from a challenge. The Romanians charged at him, pushing him with all their might.
Gabriel turned on them, swinging blindly and trying to smash their faces in. He kicked at their legs, elbowed them, and beat them with his whole body. Despite being twice their size, the Romanians surprised him with their ferocity. Gabriel fell over a bench, but Joseph joined in the fight, his fists a blur as he punched the Romanians over and over again. His face was scrunched up in fury, like a raging bull, while Rhona screamed at him to stop.
"Joseph!" Ingram called out for his older brother.
"Stop it!" Helena's voice boomed through the room, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination.
Gabriel and Joseph stood their ground, their bodies tense and ready for the onslaught of the Romanian vampires. But despite their efforts, the bloodthirsty creatures slithered through their defences like a serpent through the grass.
Vladimir's hand connected with Gabriel's face, the force of the blow nearly sending him crashing to the ground. "I'm sorry!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.
"Gabriel!" Joseph's voice was a thunderous roar, his eyes blazing with fury.
The skin on Gabriel’s throat was raw and bleeding, but even as we watched, it began to knit itself back together. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Too late," Vladimir sneered, his eyes glittering with malice.
"Fifteen hundred years too late," Stefan added, his voice dripping with venom.
I glared at the Romanian vampires and then to Helena, looking like she was on the verge of tears, but she couldn't release them. There was none left to shed.
"But I am sorry!" Gabriel's voice was filled with desperation, his eyes pleading with the vampires to understand.
"He is sorry," Maggie's soft voice spoke up from the background, her eyes filled with compassion.
The Romanians snarled, their eyes flashing with rage. "You think apologising will change anything?" Stefan bellowed, his body coiled like a spring, ready to attack.
"Violet, get—!" Ingram was about to command me but I didn't listen to him at that moment.
With a flick of my wrist, the purple force field erupted from my fingertips, crackling with energy. It surged forward, a blur of violet light, and slammed into Stefan's gut with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, while Vladimir rushed to his side.
Stefan's eyes widened in shock as he struggled to catch his breath. "You see that?" he wheezed, his voice laced with disbelief.
Vladimir nodded, his expression awestruck. "Your daughter has a powerful gift," he murmured, his eyes flickering to me and my father.
Joseph beamed with pride. "We got our maxima right here," he declared, puffing out his chest.
Simon shot him a warning glance, but Stefan merely chuckled. "A maxima, huh?" he mused, his lips curling into a sly grin. "Well, if the child isn't going to destroy the Volturi, then perhaps she will."
Gabriel's voice was a thunderclap. "NO!" he roared, his eyes blazing with fury.
"She will." Alistair said that to me before disappearing to the attic. And now again with the Romanians but this time, it was out of vengeance rather than cowardice.
Destroy the Volturi? Was that really what they thought I was capable of? I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to be a witness, to observe the world around me.
"What if we have to fight?" Ayla's voice whispered in my mind, her words echoing through the emptiness of my still heart.
I didn't know. I didn't know what I was going to do. All I knew was that I had a power, a gift, and that it was up to me to decide how to use it.
Gabriel's abrupt departure left us all reeling, our emotions raw and exposed. Helena's desperate attempt to reach him fell short as the door slammed shut, sealing off any chance of reconciliation. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, suffocating us with its intensity.
The Romanians, unaffected by the familial drama, stood stoically as we struggled to process what had just happened. Gabriel's trauma had resurfaced, triggered by something we couldn't quite grasp. His fighting and reaction had left us stunned, unsure of how to move forward.
Joseph tried to ease the tension. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Gabriel's on the roof. He didn't run away."
Vladimir, always quick with a quip, muttered to his friend, "That wouldn't be the first time."
I couldn't bear to stay in the living room any longer. I needed to find Gabriel, to make sure he was okay. I tapped Ingram's arms and he reluctantly released me from his grasp. Pushing past Vladimir and Stefan, I sprinted up the stairs and onto the roof.
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Cross posted on Ao3
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A Bitty Drabble Series
- || Chapter II -
< Previous || Masterlist || Next >
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- || Summary -
A series about you and your bitties.
Redoul was your first bitty. He was an unknown kind of Fell bitty that ended up being sold to a bitty fighting ring when he was still young. He was able to escape with the help from his cellmate and his cell’s neighbor, who helped him sneak out and run away.
Redoul, who’s life was saved by you, ended up falling in love with you... and you accepted those feelings and returned them.
...But as the story goes on, you eventually find and meet those old friends of his, and they become just as important to you as Redoul is.
Of course, you don’t stop at just your three LV ridden bitties, and take in more as time goes on.
...Although, none of your more recent bitties have quite the same amount of LV as your first three do, and they might just be a little scared of the trio at first, but with time they do get along and eventually do find comfort in one another.
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     You stand hesitantly in front of the rescue center’s doors, staring absentmindedly at the sign above it. Redoul wasn’t doing much better, sitting on your shoulder with a blank face, looking lost. You knew this was hitting him hard; he was afraid to hope. Afraid to hope to see his friends, the people he had walked through hell together with, and the people who set him free from it.
     What if they weren’t there? What if it wasn’t the ring he was in? What if—
      What if they didn’t make it?
     You never met them. You never knew them. But what you did know was that these people were so, so important to your mate, and you couldn’t help but be afraid of what it would do to him if they weren’t there. You loved him so much, and you didn’t want him to hurt any more than he already had, but you couldn’t avoid this. You had to do this.
     Clenching your teeth, you take in a breath and pull the door open.
      You're scared. He is too. More so than you.
     The atmosphere you’re greeted with is warm and welcoming—it soothes you, even if only slightly.
     The walls are colored with a dark, warm maroon. It wasn’t the color you were expecting, but it somehow fit. At the front desk sat a woman with curly brown hair and thin gold wire frame glasses. A small red jewel hangs down from a chain next to her left lens. The woman’s hair was held up with a hair clip, with her bangs out framing her face. Resting on her face was a small, relaxed smile.
     She looked up at the sound of the door, and her smile widened as her eyes landed on you and your mate.
     “Hello and welcome to the Great Lake Black Rescue Center. My name’s Rynell, is there something I can help you with?” Her words were obviously practiced and repeated often, but something about her posture, or perhaps her smile, eased some of the tension out of your shoulders.
     “Yes, um,” you clear your throat, trying to find your words. “I saw a news article about a bitty ring being broken up… and I’m wondering if you received any of the rescues from there. I’m—well, we are looking for… well, my bitty—Redoul’s—old friends.” You gesture to Redoul on your shoulder with your hand. At your movement he looks up from the floor and at the woman—Rynell—behind the desk. He doesn’t speak. His silence concerns you slightly, but you can understand his lack of words.
     You couldn’t help but notice the tremble in his hands.
     Rynell’s smile drops into a pitying look as she hears your words, before smiling again and nodding.
     “We have actually received most of the recuses from the ring just two days ago. We didn’t have enough room for all of them, so the ones that we couldn’t take in were sent to one of the other nearby centers; if your friends aren’t here, they would likely be there. Could you tell me who you’re looking for?” She moves her hands to her mouse and keyboard, quickly clicking through something before looking back to you and Redoul.
     You glance at Redoul, seeing if he wanted to speak, but he made no move to do so. Instead he looked back to the floor.
      ‘This is really getting to him…’ you thought worriedly.
     You take in another breath and look back to the woman behind the counter, nodding. “Yes. We’re looking for two bitties in particular; one is an Outertale Sans bitty called Cos. Redoul says that he had a rather large gash over his left—wait no—his right socket, and that socket’s eyelight was extinguished. The other is… well, a Shattered Dream bitty. I don’t think you need much of a description for him. They called him Umbra.”
     You saw a brief look of surprise pass over her face at your descriptions of them, before it settled as she nodded. “I know exactly who you’re talking about. They’re both here and in about as good of health as they could be at this point in time.”
     Redoul’s head shot up at her words.
     “THEY’RE HERE!?” He exclaimed loudly. You flinch slightly at the volume in your ear, but make no comment.
     Rynell smiled at the bitty, before looking away with a compliment look. “Yes, they are. Um, hmmm… well, usually, when someone comes in to see a rescue bitty they need to file an appointment before getting the chance to see them—not to mention the fact that rescue bitties aren’t supposed to have any visitors until either a week to a month has passed, to give them time to recuperate and settle from the change in environment. But…” she glanced at Redoul. “There can be exceptions, like in the case of a missing bitty reuniting with an owner or family member… excuse me for asking—this is very unprofessional of me—but would you have happened to have been from the same ring?”
     Redoul straightened slightly, looking her in the eyes. “…I Am. Back Then, I Was Called Roi. I Decided To Leave That Name With The Ring When I Got Away.”
     Rynell stared at him for a moment, her expression vague, before she huffed a laugh and straightened herself, smiling once again. “Alright, I’ve made up my mind. The rescues have only been here for two days now, and usually you would have to wait at least a week before you could meet anyone, but I can make it to where you can see them tomorrow; I would let you in today, but unfortunately there are certain paperwork I need to fill out for a rescue to have a visitor before anything else—least someone get arrested—and the soonest that I can get that paperwork and then fill it out is tonight. Anything you would need to sign can wait until tomorrow. Does that work for you, or do you need more time? Either for work or other personal reasons.”
     You and Redoul stare shocked at her.
      ‘She—she’s an angel!!!’
     You step forward. “That would be perfect! Thank you so, so much! What time should we be here tomorrow?”
     “The earliest I can get you in is 9:30 in the morning—although I recommend getting here by 9 o’clock , so that you have some time to read through and sign the paperwork.” She reached over and pulled out a business card from her desk, before flipping it over and scrawling a phone number across an open space. She then hands it to you. “On the front is the number to the front desk, and the one I just wrote down was my personal number. What I’m doing with getting you an early meeting isn’t necessarily illegal, but it is certainly bending the rules, so it’s best to just keep this between us for now, okay? And don’t worry about me, I’ll be letting my boss know about this—where do you think I need to get the papers from?”
     “I really can’t thank you enough,” you take the card from her. “I’ll make sure to call you if we need anything. Um, should I give you my number just in case you need to let us know of anything?” You ask as you look at her.
     She hums slightly, before grabbing a sticky note and a pen from her desk. “Probably a good idea, do you want to tell me or do you just want to write it down yourself?”
     The two of you talk for a bit longer, with Redoul chiming in every once in a while, much to your joy. After a few minutes of conversation you eventually finalize the rest of the details that needed to be discussed in the moment.
     Before you knew it, you found yourself making your way back to your car, ready to drive home and rest for tomorrow.
     You take your place in the driver's seat and simply sit there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened. Redoul had a pile of blankets in the passenger’s seat he would stay in whenever you were driving.
     He sat there looking as dazed as you felt—if not more so.
     “They’re alive…” Redoul muttered, his usual volume and strength absent from his voice. He began to shake, and buried his face in his hands. “They’re Alive…!”
     You felt your eyes water as you looked at your trembling mate, feeling a cacophony of both your and his emotions from across your bond with him. With a shaky breath, you reach over and pick him up, cradling him gently against your chest. He continued to tremble in your hold, clinging to your shirt and pressing himself into you.
     “Ma Chère… I’m—I’m So Happy. They’re Alive, And I’ll Get To See Them Tomorrow! I… I’m Just So…” he buried his face into your neck, not bothering to finish his words.
     “I know, my love, I know. I couldn’t tell you how relieved I was when she said they were there and alive . I’m so happy for you, Redoul.” You covered his back with your hand as he clung to you.
     You can’t wait for tomorrow.
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     You felt giddy as you drove to the rescue center the next day. Redoul was in his spot in the passenger seat, looking about ready to vibrate right out of it with how jittery he looked.
     He clasped his hands together and wrung his phalanges—a nervous habit he’s had for a while now.
     “Ma Chère… Do You Think They Will Be Glad To See Me?” He asked quietly.
     You weren’t sure how to answer. “Well,” you start. “I can’t say for certain. I haven’t met them personally, so I’m not completely sure, but I’d like to think so. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like they really cared about you—or as much as they could afford to, given the environment you were in. They risked their own safety, and likely their lives, to get you out despite the dangers. If I were to take a guess, then I’d say they will be very glad to see you.”
     He didn’t respond, but you could tell he relaxed a little at your words. After a few seconds he hummed and nodded. “Hm. Thank you, Ma Chère.” He said.
     “Of course.”
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     You park in an empty spot in the parking lot of the rescue center. 8:58. Perfect.
     With a breath, you unbuckle and step out of your car with Redoul now in his usual spot on your shoulder. You walk towards the doors and pull one open, stepping inside.
     At the desk sat Rynell. She seemed to be filtering through some papers when she heard the door open. She looked up and saw you, glanced at the clock, and smiled.
     “Right on time, and welcome back. Since I already know what you’re here for, we'll skip over the rest of the pleasantries,” she pulled some papers off of her desk along with a pen and presented them to you. “Here are the papers you need to sign. You can take them over to that table over there and fill them out. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”
     “I literally think you are the best person in the world right now, thank you.” You say with a hint of playfulness in your tone. She laughed goodnaturedly and thanked you before you went and sat down to fill out the paperwork.
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      *Bonk*
     Rynell looked up from her desk at the sound. You were laying face first on the table.
     “My wrist hurts.”
     “Ma Chère, Get Up. You Need To Finish Filling Out The Paperwork.”
     You grone and sit up, looking back at the papers. “Why is there so much??”
     You hear Rynell laugh. “That's so that no one has to get arrested. Bitties aren’t your average… pet,” you couldn't help but notice how she hesitated to use the word ‘pet’. “and need the extra work to get to so that no one can try anything unsavory with these already abused individuals. The paperwork is just there so that neither you nor I have to get arrested for something unfounded.”
     “I understand that, I really do, but it’s still a lot of work.”
     “Tell me about it.”
     “Oh yeah. You probably do this a lot, don’t you?”
     “Kind of,” as if to prove her point, she shuffles through more papers. “It’s not like it’s every day we receive the survivors of a fighting ring—this is only the second time we’ve received them from a bitty ring, actually—but when it does happen, the load of paperwork feels ridiculous, even if it is necessary.”
     You hum thoughtfully as you continue to fill out more papers. “I can imagine. It really is unfortunate that things like fighting rings are even a thing.”
     “True is that.”
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     “Okay, I think I’m done.” You say as you hand the papers over to Rynell. “Hopefully I didn’t miss anything…?”
     A minute or two passes as she looks through the papers in her hands.
     “Everything seems to be good!” She smiles and stands up, walking around to the front of the desk. 
      Wow she’s really tall—
     “Now, usually after someone fills out the paperwork they aren’t due for their meeting with the bitty or bitties until the next day—due to more legal reasons—but we can skip over that step since I already have the green light from my boss, so we can either head back there now or you can schedule for another time—”
     “We Would Like To Head Back There Now, Thank You.” Redoul interrupted.
     You glanced at Redoul, and placed a hand on him. “Calm down Redoul, we’ll go see them. I promise.” You look back to Rynell. “Sorry about that… Yes, we would like to go see them.”
     She seemed to take the interruption in stride, and continued on with her explanation. “Alright then. I’ll head back first and get everything ready, along with letting the other two know that you’ll be heading back there soon.” She filed the papers away in one of her drawers and started to walk towards the hall on the right hand of the room, before pausing and looking back to Redoul.
     “By the way, the other two seemed very happy to know that you’re doing okay, and looked pretty excited when I said that you’d be coming to visit yesterday. Just wait a bit longer and I’ll come back to get you when I have everything ready.” With that, she turned and walked down the hall.
     You blinked at her words, before smiling.
      ‘Yeah, she’s a pretty damn good person.’
     Redoul looked surprised for a moment, before straightening up and laughing. “I Like Her.”
     You laugh with him. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
     A few moments of silence passed between the two of you before you spoke up.
     “…You’ve seemed to have relaxed.”
     He sighed, leaning into the side of your head. “I Suppose. I Am… Unsure Of What To Feel At The Moment.” He confessed.
     You gently took his hand in yours and brought it to your lips, kissing it softly. “I can understand, but if I may say; you’ve been handling all of this remarkably well. I’m proud of you.”
     He flushed scarlet red—redder than his own scarf—and turned away from you. “Of Course You’re Proud! I Would Do Nothing Less Than The Best!”
     …You couldn’t help but notice his eyelights. You always did love them, and they looked especially striking when he was blushing. Instead of just one color that most bitties had, Redoul had blue eyelights ringed in purple.
     He huffed and smiled a little. He muttered “Thank you… for being here with me.”
     You felt your own smile widen. “Of course. Where else would I be, if not with you?” You nuzzled him gently.
     “Obviously! The Best Place For Anyone To Be Is At My Side, Then They Would Get To Bask In My Marvelous Presence!” He nuzzled you back. “But… I Do Believe The Only One I Want By My Side Is You.”
     You hum. “I love you.” You whisper quietly.
     You don’t think his expression could get any softer. “And I You, Ma Chère.”
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     “Alright. Everything is ready and the two are waiting in the meeting room for you. If you’ll please follow me I will take you back there now.” Rynell said as she emerged from the hall once again.
     You look too Redoul, searching his expression. He took in a deep breath and sighed, before straightening up and nodding. “Yes, Let’s Go.”
     “Just follow me.” She turned back and started to walk down the hall again, this time with you behind her.
     Soon enough, you stop in front of a door made of a dark colored wood.
     “They’re right in here. Would you like me to stay with you, or would you prefer it if I stayed out here?” She asked, looking not to you, but to Redoul.
     He blinked, thinking for a moment, before answering. “Stay Out Here Please, I’d Like To See Them Without An Audience.”
     You looked at him again. “Should I…?”
     “No. You Go With Me.”
     “Okay, shall we?”
     “Yes.”
     Rynell smiled, and stepped forward. “Allow me.” She pushed the door open and stepped to the side, making room for you. “Let me know if you need anything, alright? I’ll be right outside the door.”
     “Thank you.” You say.
     “Of course.” With that, she closed the door behind you.
     You look around the room. It was rather spacious, with four chairs lined across one of the walls, and across them being some sort of structure that looked similar to an elaborate cat tree. Just more bitty friendly. Below the structure was a table at about waist height with smaller chairs, beanbags, and other furniture made for various bitty sizes. There were also normal sized cushions and one or two beanbags for people to sit on on the floor.
     …And on the table sat two bitties; one was an Outertale bitty lounging in one of the bitty sized beanbags, and the other was a Shattered Dream bitty sitting in one of the many bitty chairs at a miniature coffee table.
     …
     They looked relaxed at first glance, but you knew better. Redoul would take that kind of posture when he was stressed, or having a bad day… it was how he stood when you first met him. Guarded and tense, but disguised as relaxed and confident.
     Nobody moved at first, but after a moment you moved to the table and leaned into it with the side of your body that Redoul was on. He hesitated for a moment more, before jumping off and landing on the table. Once he was on the table you moved away to go sit in one of the chairs on the other side of the room—in the one the farthest away from them.
     Nobody spoke, nobody moved.
     Until—
     “—roi! you’re okay!” A smaller body rammed into Redoul’s, knocking him back far enough to where he almost fell over.
     Redoul caught the other bitty easily enough and righted himself, before shouting back. “I Should Be Saying That, You Fool!!! How The Hell Are You Still Alive!?”
     The last bitty got up and joined the other two in a hug, wrapping the four black tendrils on his back around them. He nuzzled . “It’s good to see that you are in good health, Roi.” He lifted his head and locked eyes—er… eye? with you, making you blink in mild surprise. “I assume that would be in thanks to the lady who you came in with?”
     Redoul huffed and pulled back slightly, although not enough to break his hold of the other two bitties. “First Of All, My Name Is No Longer Roi; It’s Redoul. I Left That Name With The Ring. Second Of All,” He looks at you flatly. “Ma Chère, Come Here, Would You?”
     With a small laugh, you stand and approach the reunited trio slowly, making sure your hands are visible to the still-skittish newcomers. You stop a few feet away from them and lean against the table, making sure they’re still out of your reach.
     The shorter one—Cos—finally pulled his head away from where it was tucked into Redoul’s chest and regarded you with an analytical expression; just as Umbra—the Shattered Dream—has been.
     You introduce yourself softly, but before you get to say any more than that, Redoul interrupts you.
     “She Is My Mate.”
     …
     “…what?”—“What?”
     “…I feel you could have broken that to them more gently.” You say, bemused.
     “That Was Simply The Most Efficient Way To Do It, What Were You Expecting Me To Do?”
     “I don’t know, but it wasn’t that. Maybe talk to them more before introducing me? We’re not here for me, Love.”
     “Why Wouldn’t I Want To Introduce My Marvelous Mate? Clearly You Do Not Know Me.”
     “Oh yes, because we’re complete strangers. Totally. Mhmm.”
      “Clearly.”
     …
     “*snirk…* pfft…haha… hahahahahaha!! what the hell? i didn’t know you had it in you, roi—no, sorry, redoul —but seriously, a human? wow. good job landing a pretty one, too.” Cos snarked with a sly smile; his sarcasm didn’t seem to be directed at you, thankfully, but more at Redoul to tease him.
     …Umbra’s expression changed from analytical to something more… content? Satisfied?
     “So that’s what I was feeling. It was your bond with her.” He looked back to Redoul with a firm nod and a smirk. “…You made a good choice.” …something told you that he was also teasing your mate.
     Redoul’s eye socket twitched, and his face was steadily getting redder. “…You Bastards.”
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Thank you for reading!
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So I was watching a TWF 4 teaser explination and went to find Jack Walten.com because I was curious and I found this.
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what the fuck. If you look closely you can also see the word Bon on his shoulder, the B slightly overlapping,
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{sorry it's small}
I don't know if this is new or not but the site title is now "Fast food and Family Fun" With no punctuation whatsoever, but the URL is still FindJackWalten.com
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None of this might be new and I'm an idiot but I think I might've found some lore.
FindJackwalten.com/jackwalten has some entirely different shit though. The deer head, the text, and the background haven't changed, but I don't want people to confuse the two websites. The link at the bottom of FJW.com/jackwalten still leads to the black screen with 'help' in all lowercase as the title by the way. zoomed in and out with maximum brightness on all the sites and found nothing other than what Mr Walls wanted us to see. I also dragged my mouse across Help to see if there were any clickable but still nothing. I have to presume TWF 4 has all the answers. OMFG WENT BACK TO HELP AND IDK IF IT WAS MY TRASH COMPUTER OR A THING BUT SOMETHING KINDA BROWN WITH A WHITE BACKGROUND FLASHED FOR A QUARTER OF A SECOND AND I MIGHT'VE BEEN SEEING THINGS BUT THE URL CHANGED FOR A MILLISECOND AFTER THE IMAGE FLASHED. I'M FUCKING ESTATIC BECAUSE IT SEEMED INTENTIONAL. ALSO, GOOGLE TRANSLATE POPPED UP AND ASKED IF I WANTED TO CHANGE SPANISH TO ENGLISH AND I'M PRETTY SURE IT DIDN"T DO THAT WHEN I FIRST OPENED IT. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa. I MIGHT BE ONE OF THE ONLY PEOPLE TO CATCH THIS. WOOOOOAH. okay I checked and I think the flash was my century-old computer comprehending the fact I switched tabs, but I'm still 98% sure the URL changed. OH MY FUKING GOD THIS MIGHT BE ME JUST LOOKING TO FAR INTO SHIT BUT FIND JACK WALTEN AND FIND JACK WALTEN/MISSING HAVE THE SAME BACKGROUND. I MEAN, THAT'S EASY TO DO WHEN THE BGs BLACK BUT I WAS SWITCHING THROUGH THEM TO TRY AND SEE SOMETHING AND I THINK IT MEANS THAT HE'S THERE ONE SECOND AND GONE THE NEXT OR EVEN VICE VERSA.
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHGHGHGHGH
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obsidiancreates · 2 years
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Dream Beavers Thoughts/Reactions
My poor boy Donnie, he doesn't even get to start the episode awake. Instantly we're in his nightmare as he flees for his life in a panic. Love the angst of it but my poor boy
Dude this nightmare of Donnie's is so fucking relatable , I have Being Chased And Can't Escape nightmares at least once a week.
Couldn't wake Donnie up and even dirty underwear didn't wake him... yeah, no cause for concern, I'm sure
OH GOD HIS LEG FUCKING BROKE AGAIN
Sleeping may not help, but you know what else won't? Walking on it after it popped out of place again
Oh when did I start watching Monsters vs Aliens lol
I like the hint that Leo's dreaming now too by having his dream take place at night, then cutting to Casey and April just pulling up to the store during the day.
Pffff "On purpose?"
Brown but it used to be yella candy... ew
He's got the fucking Necronomicon in his fucking store, just put the book in the back room if you don't want anyone touching it, dude.
Amount of stuff must be for 5 or 6 people? It's one box. Maybe they just like variety.
Leo YOU WERE ALREADY A SUPERHERO YOU IDIOT
Awww Raph and Mikey prank times, love when they get along- oh, and Mikey almost ruined it
Casey, hon? Sometimes people just nap.
AWWWWWWWWW DONNIE SNORES AND WHISTLES THROUGH THE TOOTH GAP IT'S SO CUTE
OH HIS NIGHTMARE IS NOT CUTE but the May I Eat You? You Look Salty! is very funny.
He's never even been to school and has nightmares about it anyway, that's how you know Donnie is truly a teenager.
MY BOY FIGURED IT OUT BUT STUPID BEAVER MAKES HIM THINK HE DIDN'T HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO HIS CONFIDENCE
Casey- where did you just kick him?!?!?!?!?!
Donnie is having the worst time I think, but Raph's got prize for second worst nightmare, this shit is fucked. He's trapped in an endless metal music video
Meanwhile Mikey is just in Mabel Land from Gravity Falls...
Draining the life out of them... that's just what nightmares do even without the Beavers
GO FUCK THAT BASTARD UP CASEYYYYYYYYYY I SUPPORT YOU EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU COMMIT VIOLENCE
Yesssssssss love the transition into Donnie's dream again, love his scared expression as he runs through the twisting sewer, love how desperate he is! Good shit!
Don't like Big Boob Coffee Can April though.
Man, Leo can't even avoid having his ass beat in a dream
YESSSSSSS THE WAY IT ALL STOPS AND THE BEAVER SAYS "AREN'T YOU GOING TO ANSWER" THE VIBES ARE IMMACULATE ON THAT
Raph's is just like, someone on the crew wants to direct a metal video and hasn't had the chance yet.
Hi, Mickey Mouse Lolipop, why did you break the mold of it being April's voice and none of the other ones did?
So this bitch thinks the Dream Beavers have heralds and minions in the waking world now?
Yeah Casey. Dream Beavers. And shockingly? One of the less goofy villains in this show.
BEATNIK?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
OH DONNIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE MY BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
He figured it out a second time! But he still can't win! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
GOD I LOVE THAT SLICING EFFECT AND HOW IT BRINGS ALL 4 INTO THE SAME DREAMSPACE GODDDDDDDDDD THIS EPISODE IS SO FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
Dude, Big Brain Raph figured it out! He got to shine! Whoo!
Pffff what was that giggle Donnie?
So Dave is the third Gidorah head of the Dream Beavers
Casey is just playing Resident Evil 7 now. Motherfucker's sawing through walls and shit...
THAT IS A QUALITY BAT JEEPERS WHY IS IT SO TOUGH
40 years, sir? You shouldn't be able to talk.
This guy is just. Ford. This is Grunkle Ford's backstory.
CASEYYYYYY I LOVE YOU MY LOYAL CARING DEPENDABLE BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY YES SAVE YOUR FRIENDS YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
YESSSSSSS THIS COMIC THING I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I LOVE THIS EPISODE SO MUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
THEY'RE RIPPING THROUGH THE COMIC BITS AND NOW THEY'RE UPSIDE DOWN YES MAKE IT TRIPPY MAKE IS STRANGE MAKE IT DREAMLIKE YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS THIS EPISODE IS INCREDIBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Oh Dave is a Minecraft Slime, or Ratchet & Clank Zyphoid.
Hehehehehe them with only their heads and shells look funny
Oh this is supremely fucked up, but like, in a way that's more fun than horrifying and gross like the Mom Thing was
I like that he immedietely assumes the turtles were sleep deprivation hallucinations
DONNIE'S NOT BREATHING NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LEAVE MY BOY ALONEEEEEEEEE
YES CASEY YES RISK THE WHOLE WORLD FOR YOUR FRIENDS/FOUND FAMILY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH CASEY YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
HA bitches are the size of real beavers. I like that Mikey and Dave still wanna be friends.
Pfffff "April. Casey. Giant talking turtles." And then WHAM HITS THE FLOOR WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND TONS OF STEEL
Hey Donnie? Yeah, you died. Like you stopped breathing and your pulse stopped like, two seconds ago. Maybe let, anyone else, help Casey carry the sleeping man away
Awwwwwww Leo and Raph friend moment!
Casey, a little soon for the "Dream on" comment, sweetie. They. Donnie just died. Everyone else, almost died. Maybe not the time for thematic puns.
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sionstyx · 2 years
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YOUNITE ideal type
!!WARNING!! this is completely my opinion NONE OF THIS HAS BEEN CONFIRMED, don't take this too seriously, this isn't for delulus, and don't get mad if you don't fit their types and ideal age. there are also repetitive words 
this will all be in lowercase, age order, and fem reader (idk how to put it into a male pov). 
okay, now that, that's out of the way enjoy!!
eunho (maybe 1999-2002, 2003 at push)
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age: i see eunho with someone mainly older and a bit younger than him, only because i see him getting babied in the relationship but also looking after someone younger than him. 
appearance: i feel like would like someone shorter than him 100% because like he's around 5'6-5'7 although i see him with someone taller than him as well, i think he would like someone with mouse brown hair, and eyes matching the hair. 
personality: he's a shy boy at heart so i think he would love it if he had someone who could make him come out of his shell and gain more confidence when talking etc. 
steve (2000-2005 *once legal*) 
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age: i see steve with someone older than him as well as younger than him, i feel like he would love a noona to look up to but at the same time he loves being called oppa (trust me i would know hehe) so i'm 100% he would love someone younger than him as much as someone older than him. 
appearance: i see him with someone who looks and dresses elegantly, with long hair, black or brown, i see him going after a waisan (idk that's the vibe i get from him) i see him with someone tall maybe around 170-174cm tall but not too tall for him, he would LOVE hazel eyes and or green eyes or both i dont know and honestly i think he would love a girl with glasses. 
personality: i think he would love to help you study so someone who likes to do work, read, is creative, can sing/dance/rap, etc., i see him with someone very kind + caring to everyone, puts others first, VERY understanding and considerate, think about what their friends think and what they want, always have time for everyone to include them into their day to day life, gives good advice to everyone, and always knows what to say, etc. 
hyunseung: (2002-2005 *once legal*)
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age: i see hyunseung with someone the same age as him or younger than him, i feel him babying someone in the relationship. 
appearance: i see him with some shorter than him but still tall, he wouldn't care about appearance he would care about personality. 
personality: he would like someone who would look after him, someone who's funny and smart, someone good at dancing because he's the main dancer lol, honestly he would like someone similar to steve's ideal personality.
eunsang (2001-2004, 2005 at push *once legal*) 
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age: i personally think that eunsang with someone a little older than him but mostly younger than him seeing like with x1 he was a part of the maknae line, i think once he opens up to you he would be like a child, so you two will get along great, and or he would baby you in the relationship if you're younger. 
appearance: i see him with someone shorter than him but still tall maybe around 169cm+, i see him with someone with black or brown (dark coloured hair) and hazel/light brown eyes, maybe the same colour as the hair, but he wouldn't care about appearance.
personality: i think he would love someone like sehyun (dey), someone that doesn't try to be funny, just is themselves, creative, talented, say what they want, dress how they want etc. 
hyungseok (2003-2004, 2005 at push *once legal*)
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age: i think he would LOVE to baby someone, i mean like look at him with sion, he babies sion, so that's why i see him with someone younger than him.
appearance: he would want a tallllllllllllllllllll s/o like i'm talking 170cm+ bc hello he's a giant baby and he needs a giant s/o, he wouldn't care about appearance not gonna lie. 
personality: fun, funny, smart, he would love someone who knows how to play chess, and likes to read, he seems like the guy that likes nerds/really smart people, but also people who can be smart and fun at the same time and that's about all for the personality. 
woono (2003-2005 *once legal* (altho a 2-year gap isn't bad)
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age: i think he would want someone the same age or a little bit younger than him, i don't know why that's just what vibes i get from him.  
appearance: someone the same height as him or a bit shorter than him to be honest, idk about appearance to be honest...
personality: savage, like him. that's all... he would want someone who would be a mean girl with him and tease the other members, he would want someone who would tease him as well at times. 
dey (2003-2005 idk) 
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age: he would want a friendship relationship like friends but dating you know? i don't know how to word it but he wants a goofy relationship like a friendship. 
appearance: tall. i see him with someone tall idc if you dont agree i see him with someone 169-170cm+ he wouldn't care about appearance much. 
personality: he's shy and reserved around new people, so i think he would like someone like himself and or more open than he is but still shy at the same time, he seems like he's really goofy and funny so he wants someone who gets his humour as well as funny and goofy themselves, i see him with someone that can help him write lyrics, go to the studio with him, dance with him etc kinda his job with him but helping him as well. i think he would want someone who can count on to help him and ofc you can count on him to help you. 
kyungmun (2003 (younger than him) - 2005) 
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age:  same as woono, but he wants to baby them and tease them, so that's why i thought younger so he has a lower chance of him getting in trouble. lol imagine
appearance: tall i mean kyungmun is 180cm tall so it just makes sense for them to be tall, i see him with someone who wears glasses
personality: he would want someone funny and silly, so he can be silly and funny with you, but also smart and responsible at the same time. 
sion (2003-2005) 
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age: he wants to be a baby of a baby (a baby looking after another baby) 
appearance: someone reallyyyyyyyyyyyyy adorable hints the baby looking after another baby that's all just someone really cute. 
personality: he would like someone who can easily get along with him and not just him but the members as well, he would want you and the members to feel comfortable with each other. 
remember this is my opinion!! see you in the next post!
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Who's There?
October 26 prompt: Magic & Spells / Missing / "I thought I heard something…"
Character(s): Norway (Lukas/Mus), Denmark (Matthias/Skildpadde), Sweden (Berwald/Räv)
@hetaween-event-2022
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Bright blue eyes of Matthias look at the purple eyed Norwegian. If he understood it correctly, the original peacock holder (Påfugl) wants the ladybug and cat miraculous so she can bring back her dead son? That... hm... She still shouldn't be allowed to have them in the first place. Lukas merely shrugged and ran his hand through Eleonora's hair. She currently has her head resting on his lap.
Räv looked around. Something's here. He knew it. Somehow he could feel it. The sound of something snapping behind him made him look to see it's Skildpadde, the Kwami swapped turtle holder. A soft sound escaped the Kwami swapped fox. Skildpadde then explained what he's heard about Påfugl. In the middle of the conversation, Skildpadde stopped talking as a shiver was sent down his spine.
"Someone's here," Skildpadde said. Him and Räv then look around. No one's there. The feeling didn't go away, though. Something touched Skildpadde’s legs. Looking down, he saw it’s a tiny person. And they’ve been multiplied. Räv noticed the same thing had happened to him. “Mus,” Räv said. “He used multitude.” Both shoved the multiplied Mus off them before moving a ways away so Skildpadde could use shell-ter. "We need a plan," Skildpadde said once both were protected. "Maybe since you have the fox, you could create an illusion." "Of what?" Räv asked. "I don't know," Skildpadde said. "Lady Luck, Billy Goat, anyone giving him their miraculous. You need to hide when you make it so he doesn't suspect anything." Räv nodded. Skildpadde lowered the shell-ter.
"I'm going to get help," Räv said before running off. Thankfully none of the multiplied Muses followed him and mainly stayed around Skildpadde. When he had found a hiding spot, he played a few notes on his flute and said, "Mirage!" The illusion that appeared before him is Lady Luck and himself. He had the two join Skildpadde and Mus as he stayed behind and watched through a screen that popped up from his flute.
"Mus," Lady Luck's illusion said. The many tiny Mus looked at the duo, as did Skildpadde. The turtle smirked. Lady Luck, nice. He also knew that wasn't the real Räv with her, seeing as she could only speak when he spoke through his flute. Thankfully not in his voice, otherwise Mus would know it's an illusion. The Muses joined together and created the actual Mus. "I'm here to hand over my miraculous," Lady Luck said. Skildpadde and Räv faked surprise as Skildpadde slowly came up behind Mus. Mus raised an eyebrow. "You're handing them over now?" He asked. "Why?" "I realized that no matter what miraculous you have, you're relentless," Lady Luck said. "And you're too powerful for us to fight on our own or together." She took off her ladybug earrings and handed them to Mus. In doing so, she transformed into a civilian with brown hair and brown eyes, looking completely different than the actual Lady Luck.
Mus reached out for the earrings when all of a sudden, the mouse necklace was removed from his neck. His transformation to civilian caught Skildpadde and the real Räv off guard. Why? Because Mus' civilian side is none other than Lukas Bakke. Lukas paused as soon as the mouse miraculous was removed. Oh, sugar honey iced tea.
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ao3feed-brucewayne · 1 month
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Scary Monsters: The Fall of the Mouse
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/B1waJZr by WanderedWriter Marinette Dupain-Cheng era una niña normal, con una vida normal. Hasta que no lo fue. Ella se convirtió en una heroína, la más joven del equipo. El ratón escurridizo que Ladybug y Chat Noir necesitaban. El guardían que él maestro Fue eligió. Hasta ahí casi todo iba en perfecto orden, al menos, según los propios estandares de Marinette. Pero una visita a Gotham, algunos reporteros entrometidos, los Wayne (que parecen aparecer donde sea que ella este) y un aterrador Batman lograron que las cosas se pusiera patas para arriba y, como dijo Chat Noir, él ratón entró en la boca de la serpiente al hacer algo tan simple como ayudar a un desconocido. El camino al infierno esta pavimentado de buenas intenciones, ¿no? Y Marinette aprendió de la manera dificil lo que esa frase significaba. Words: 1568, Chapters: 1/?, Language: Español Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Categories: F/M Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Bridgette (Miraculous Ladybug), Félix (Miraculous Ladybug PV), Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Alfred Pennyworth, Clark Kent, Superfamily Members (DCU), Diana (Wonder Woman), Justice League (DCU), Members of the Team (Young Justice), Master Fu (Miraculous Ladybug), Luka Couffaine Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Bridgette/Félix (Miraculous Ladybug PV), Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU) & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Bruce Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Dick Grayson, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Barbara Gordon, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Duke Thomas, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kon-El | Conner Kent Additional Tags: Bruce Wayne is Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug's Biological Parent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Is Sunshine, Marinette is MultiMouse, Bridgette as Ladybug (Miraculous Ladybug), felix is chat noir, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Comforts Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Comforts Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Marinette is the guardian of the miraculous, There is a religion of miraculous that almost nobody knows about here, marinette is not ladybug, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Things start badly and will continue to get bad before they get better, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Humor, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth Ships Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette is believed to be Hawk Moth, there are things that match and evidence, but none of them are real, Adrien uses the dog miraculous, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Is a Little Shit, Marinette is sometimes so confused by the Waynes' weird behavior, and they really don't help her image!, Chloe is basically the same, but let's say she improved when she was temporarily given the Bee Miraculous, Adrien is the successor of the cat Miraculous, he is being trained for it in secret, Lila Rossi is smart, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Manipulative Lila Rossi, Lila Rossi is a piece of shit and I will die on that hill, Have tissues handy because if you don't know me from my other stories, you will now and cry, Based on David Bowie's album Scary Monster, Luka knows many things, Asexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Bisexual Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Akuma Attack (Miraculous Ladybug) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/B1waJZr
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