#he's such a loyal little hound i love him so much

[thegnomelord]

pls pls pls pls pls pls write something with hound getting a lil chubby during rehab pls i want to see him soft and comfy, being hand fed and cuddled. hound with a little tum from finally having not only enough to eat but enough rest to actually gain a little extra weight pls im in my knees characters getting a lil chub as a sign of healing my beloved

Okay here's a small brain fart for you:

You've gotten fat.

it's a rather egregious exaggeration, according to the two sergeants, but it's the first thing you think of when you look in the mirror. Your hard muscles still bulge beneath your skin when you flex, but now there's a layer of fat cushioning your frame — it smooths the planes of your abdomen, widens the circumference of your thighs and the breadth of your shoulders until you're popping the seams of your clothes, the layer of fat deepening the cleavage between your pecks whenever you cross your arms. Even your cheeks look chubbier than they had before.

You don't look like death warmed over, and you don't know how to feel about it. The psychologist says it's a good thing, your body finally figuring out it can slow down and focus on healing instead of constantly living on the edge of a knife.

But you just don't see it. It feels like you're regressing; Forgetting the harshness of the wild when you're collared and leashed by the fireplace, growing fat and lazy, complacent. A spoiled dog isn't loyal.

You let out a noise at the back of your throat when Johnny suddenly rushes into the small room you've been given, the door slamming open and closed. You don't have time to even say a single word before he's in front of you, "Hide me!" and then he's gripping your shit and pushing himself beneath it. Your frame is big enough to where you completely block him out, and his arms wrap as much as they can around your waist so he can cling to you.

You're rarely stunned to the point you don't know what to do, but this is one of those times.

A second later you hear a "MacTavish!" and loud footsteps rush down the hall, accompanied by loud swears and threats you can only assume are from Ghost.

Johnny waits still as a statue as the footsteps grow quiet, his breath washing over your skin from where his face is pressed against your chest. When they grow quiet he shuffles, a couple of seams popping in the already stretched out shirt until he pokes his head through the head hole of the shirt, resting his chin on the top of your sternum. "Thanks laddie, saved me skin there."

"Что блят?" Is the only thing your mind can force out, defaulting to Russian because you haven't been able to dig up your mother tongue from the grave the old you is buried in.

"Ah don't worry about it, the bloody dobber had it comin' with his bloody tea in chef Mike an' — Hmmm," His attention focuses on you, head disappearing beneath the shirt once again until only his stupid mohawk pokes out as his hands give an experimental squeeze at your sides, some of the fat getting trapped between his fingers. "Hey, have you gotten bigger? Ah could swear you weren't so fluffy before."

"That a nice way of calling me fat?" You feel the need to cross your arms, to hide the cushioning hiding your muscles. Ants gnaw on your skin where Soap touches you, his calloused palms sliding as far as they can and a strange sound rumbling in his chest when he registers that the space between both of his hands is indeed larger than it had been a couple of months ago.

"Nonsense!" He guffaws, "There's just more ta love." He hums, hands pinching the fat at your sides, evidently too content with your position as his human furnace to even think about detaching from you. "Oh yeah, you've filled out. Yae know hens love the dad bod, get some more hair on yer chest an' you'll be reeling the bucks in too."

"That-" You have to bite your lip when his hands suddenly shoot up to grope your pecks. He pushes them together and buries his face in the cleavage created. Your brain completely shuts off when he fucking motorboats you, shaking his head and making a sound right against your chest to the point you're sure you can feel the vibrations in your spine.

"MacT-avish!" The sound that escapes you is humorously high-pitched for someone of your size, your voice cracking as you feel your entire face grow hot.

He pokes his head back out like a whack-a-mole, a very pleased look on his face. "Yeeess?" He asks, sickly sweet. "Something the problem big man?"

"I-" You try, too many thoughts weighing down your tongue, "-You-" this time your voice cracks, "-why-" you hiccup, your lungs choosing this time to request air as you breathe in. You look in his eyes as best you can, but the way the sparkle makes it difficult for your body to stoke the flames of anger you've grown so used to feel. ". . . блят." You finally manage to say, your shoulders sagging.

He grins at you, his hands sliding down to pet the soft surface of your stomach, fingers pressing down to feel the hard muscle beneath the fat. "Aye, big bear of a fucker, you are." He grins and goes on his tippy toes, the shirt moving up with him before he lightly pecks your lips. "Yae look good like this."

"Yeah?" You grunt, trying not to show how the soft touch affects you but your ears feel like you'd dipped them into the pits of hell.

"Definitely." He's confident when his hands slides down to grope your ass, forcing another embarrassing sound from your chest. "Now how about we get some more food in yer belly? Make you the famous MacTavish pie."

[sophiethewitch1]

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

[viburnt]

PUPPY BOY! AU HEADCANONS PT.1

About this AU: Puppy boy! Au is your normal MHA universe with a slight twist. Men possess dog traits (ears, tails, and sometimes large canines), it's hereditary from father to son. Some reactions like tail wagging and perked ears happen, but they have normal lives like any other (mostly, if they like you enough they can give you an “owner” title.)

Still working on this AU please, give feedback 🙏

Kirishima + Pitbull

@angelshimaa come get your dog, bb

• Eijirou is a Pitbull puppy boy, he doesn't have his tail or ears cut like many of his kind, but he does have the eyes an attitude.

• Plenty of people fear him because pitbulls have a bad reputation, but he proves the myth is false by being super kind and loyal! Besides, it's difficult to be scared of him when he welcomes you with such a sweet smile.

• You decided to let him into your life after spending a lot of bonding time with him. It'd be a lie if you said you weren't nervous at first, his pointy teeth were reason enough to be wary. He managed to dissipate any fear, whatsoever, his tail wagging effusively whenever you spoke.

• Like many pitbulls, Kirishima is energetic and loves to exercise, so he constantly drags you to daily jogs and weight-lifting training.

• Did I mention he gives you scary dog privileges? Again, many people associate pitbulls with aggressive behavior, so they think twice before messing with you, specially if he is by your side.

• He is oblivious of his size and weight, and will try to be a lapdog even if his size is not the most practical. “Oh, you are sitting on the couch? Let me just crush you with my weight to cuddle.”

• Not very eager of the idea of being collared like some puppy boys are, but will accept to wear one if you really want him to. Just don't expect him to wear it for long periods.

• It's funny to introduce him with a scary and ominous nickname that contrasts with his kind and gentle personality. “This is my friend Bone crusher planet destroyer” *Kirishima waving his hand happily in the background* “A real menace!”

• Will not hesitate to smother you with PDA if another puppy boy tries to approach you.

“You're home, you're home!” Kirishima said, opening the door for you before you could even finish putting your key in the lock set. You'd only been away for a couple of hours, yet - in Kiri's mind- an eternity had passed. He had missed you so much!

“Hey, buddy, did anyone come while I was gone?” You asked, your hand finding its way to the soft black fur of his ears. It was easy to tell he liked it, specially when his tail wagged so rapidly. “No, no one came - Hey, I smell something on you.” Eijirou pointed out, sniffing your clothes a little. “You were with other men!” He pouted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, it was a party. Of course, there were more people.” You giggled, leaving your bag on the kitchen counter.

Kiri was not having it, his strong arms locking you into a tight embrace. "Now I gotta cuddle you until my scent is there again!" He claimed, throwing you into the couch to cuddle for the rest of the evening. Oh, if only people knew how much of a baby your scary pitbull was!

Dabi + Dobberman

@dabislittlemouse your puppy bites!

• Even if this scary looking dog may seem like some sort of hell hound when your first meet him, he comes from a very selective bloodline after all! His breed would be a Dobberman, with his ears pointy and tail short from being cut at a young age. Also, albino dobbermans have blue eyes! And so you have Touya (white fur) before becoming Dabi (black fur).

• He knows people fears him just by looking at their reactions, and he enjoys it! Dabi wonders, however, why you didn't run away the first time you approached him. He thinks you are very dumb for not being careful around him, but doesn't mind your company at all.

• Hates the idea of an owner but can't help the tail wag whenever you compliment him or do something that he finds exciting. The first time you see that reaction is when you tell him how cool he was!

• Sometimes allows you to see his canines and smirks when he notices how much you like them. Dabi likes to tease by saying "Do you want me to bite you that bad?"

• Dabi IS the definition of scary dog privileges. Looks like he'll bite and WILL bite if someone tries to approach you.

• He also refers to you as "Lady" because, in his eyes, your dynamic with him is similar to the "Lady and the tramp" story... Except the tramp is more of a hurt dog that turned aggressive against everyone except you.

• Won't admit it but enjoys resting his head on your lap whenever you are sitting, this only happens in private though. Bonus points if you caress his hair and ears, you can see the stump of his tail wag!

"Dabi, why are you standing under the rain? You'll get sick!" You worried, watching the man waiting for you outside your workplace. His black spiky hair had turned slick and damp, but his ears remained perked up with attentiveness as he watched you step out of the building. "Just making sure you walk home safe, nothing else." He grunted with his hands inside the pockets of his coat. "There were some drunk fucks a few blocks down."

You pulled out your umbrella and shielded him, "Yeah? Will you put them in their place if they misbehave?" He heard you joke, but the dark smirk he had on his face was enough to tell you an answer. "Who says I didn't take care of them already?"

Your mouth gaped for a moment in both worry and amazement, "Well, as long as they still breath."

"Yeah, they do... I think." Dabi snorted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and flashing you a grin. "Now, let's get you home."

Bakugo + Chihuahua

@shonen-brainrot Your man is a Chihuahua, can't convince me otherwise

• A lot of people think Chihuahuas are evil, crazy and aggressive rats. Most of the time, they'd be wrong, but in Katsuki's case, the stereotype applies... partially. Chihuahuas are very friendly and social under the right circumstances, but if they get too spoiled or babied, they can develop a rather snarky and corrosive personality! So, on one hand, he is very attentive at home and knows when and where to be cooperative; on the other, if you push his buttons, he won't hesitate to bite.

• He has big fluffy ears, always pointing towards the sky. The tail matches, coated in soft cream fur. Hates when people tries to pet him and will get easily annoyed with baby talk; he is supposed to be scary, not some sort of fashion accessory people could coddle!

• Anxious, but not in the "I will have a mental breakdown and cry" type. He is anxious as in, "I feel vulnerable or attacked in this situation and will maul anyone who tries to approach."

• Like many Chihuahuas, he likes to be treated as a "big dog". Stands all strong and stern, plays rough, and will pick up a fight with people twice his size if he somehow thinks he can win (happens often, no one knows how). Definition of delulu tiny dog, and sometimes needs a reality check.

• Won't use a collar! At least not in a visible way. If you end up being his significant other, he will wear a collar but very subtly.

• Doesn't handle extreme temperatures very well, specially considering his quirk. Give this pup a sweater for God's sake!

"Goddammit, stop touching my damn ears!" Bakugo barked, swatting your hand away from him as you giggled. "Sorry, they're just too cute! Look at them twitch when I poke them." You pointed out, earning a growl from the blond. In a swift movement, he pinned you down on the couch, frowning and baring his teeth to you.

"I'm not your pet!" He huffed but the smirk on your face made his eyes widen in realization: he still was wearing the collar you gave him, tucked underneath the shirt of his uniform. "Relax, I won't do it again, ok?" You assured.

With a flustered face Bakugo let go of you, ears dropping with embarrassment. "Shut up, dumbass..." The blond mumbled, hiding his adorned neck with his clothes. "Has anyone seen it?" You asked curious. "Of course not! And I would kill them if they do." Smiling, you giggled. He was such a grumpy puppy!

[shadowqnights]

crazy how everything about mcd is so much more insane when you apply what i call the dog rule and that is when they are all dogs now in some way shape or form: an analysis.

when garroth is purebred, a hound made to serve, that does not know how to do anything but heel. he has purpose. he is sleek and well-groomed because he has to be, because he has always been tended to. a dog that falls into desperate spiral when that dynamic shifts - because who is he, without someone to follow, protect, love? a dog that becomes flea-bitten and hungry when he runs because he was never taught to take care of himself, to be his own master. he falls apart. he needs this, he knows, but what is he without someone to own him? a dog that cannot lead any kind of pack or family because it is afraid to understand the kind of animal it is if not in submission. if a parent, a teacher, he is promptly punished by his students as cruel reminder that he is not allowed to find joy in anything other than what his makers intended. a dog so desperate that it offers up its own leash to whoever will take it when things crumble - even if it means turning back to distasteful company. as long as it is held at all. time and time again, he tried to tend to the younger, weaker. he tried to feed them and lick their wounds - and time and time again, only to be mauled in turn. no more, he thinks. life was simpler when he was mindless, just four paws and a purpose. if that was what he was bred for, what business does he have pretending?

when laurance is a stray but made out of love. his coat shines thanks to the love of his family, his sister. he is sleek and well-groomed with them. the nether breaks him in, turns him a little wild. gives him cause to show teeth when threatened. when he bites, he mauls. there is something wicked in his animal eyes. he goes for the kill. when he bites, something in him wants it to hurt - whether his prey or himself, he can't tell. a part of the dog believes the suffering is natural because its maker declared it so. the pain wanes in and out like the cycle of the moon; life is unpredictable. he is braced to survive, sometimes with teeth already bared to expect the suffering. constantly on edge, pacing, waiting for the next disaster. a loyal, desperate pet that will follow to the ends of the earth - a desperation that borders on obsession. he will eat you alive, if only you would stay with him, inside of him, never leave him. never look at anyone else the way you would him. don't put him on a leash - let him choose who to lope after. his leash, in fact, is in tatters. he can't be collared. he merely follows, hungry at the heels of who fed him. his sense of duty is not of obligation but of love, a sacred need to stay at the side of those who treated him with kindness and them alone. and worse, he is burdened with the constant fear that if left untethered for too long, that obsession might turn carnal - that if wronged, he may not kill to eat and feel full, but kill merely to feel the blood on his teeth, just to feel the pain. feel something. anything. that he might enjoy the taste of his loved ones. maybe a leash is the right thing. maybe he needs to be caged. he can't bear either thought.

when they both bite the hand that fed them. when they bite each other. when they are dogs and kind of made for each other.

dante is a dog. aaron is a dog. aph is a dog. katelyn? oh you fucking guessed it. ivy. jeffory. zane. yeah. all of them are dogs. welcome to the dog rule fuckers its exactly how it sounds. are you sick of the word dog yet.

[hyuckkaiji]

loyal she began, so she remains - sebastian x f!reader

summary; he waited too long to hold you in his arms again. he waited too long to give up now. you are his, and he will have you. pt.3

word count; 4.3k

warnings; 18+, explicit content, some physical violence, porn with a plot, mentions of cheating/infidelity

note; and they lived happily ever after. One for the Seb girlies hehehe. last last part to this little unofficial series. pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 Ominis

Sebastian twirled his wand with deft fingers, staring at the cold fireplace, listening, waiting.

It had been almost three months since he saw you. One would think three months would feel like nothing in comparison to eight years, but they would be wrong.

He longed for you, he dreamt of you, bided his time until he could hold you in his arms again. And the day came, you were there, his beautiful girl, you were in his arms after all that time. But when he awoke, you were gone, and that hurt him more than anything another wizard could ever do to him.

These months have been the worst of his life. To know where you are and not be able to claim you, it was tortuous. He doesn't blame you, he doesn't know how Ominis has messed with your head because clearly Ominis has messed with your head, there's no other explanation for you leaving his side and crawling back to that bastard.

He knows you don't love the auror, you could never love him. So what made you go back? He needs answers. He would have gotten them sooner, gotten you sooner, had it not been for your pest of a husband.

His old friend had been tracking him like a blood hound since the afternoon after the night he shared with you. But Ominis underestimated him, his skill, his intelligence. Ominis thinks he is the predator.

The door creaks slowly open, the hinges old and rusted. "You were a fool to come back here, Sallow." Ominis stood in the doorway, the grey light of the cloud filled sky seeping in behind him.

The auror took a few steps forward, letting sagging wood slowly groan as it fell shut. "You should have stayed away, I gave you your freedom, and you wasted it by trying to come back for her."

Sebastian leaned back, watching Ominis with a lazy gaze, his fingers still fiddling with his wand. "Of course I came back for her. You thought I wouldn't?" Sebastian tsks, "Truly old friend, you should have known better."

Ominis shrugs, "Your mistake, fugitive. They've already got your cell in Azkaban waiting for you."

"Have they?" Sebastian let's out a breathy laugh, Ominis' lips twitch in irritation.

"You never could take anything seriously."

"Ohh, you've caught me." Sebastian throws his hands up in mock surrender though he knows the auror cannot see the gesture.

"You've cornered the big bad fugitive. Haven't you, Gaunt?" Sebastian stands, Ominis points his wand at the abrupt action. "I cared about you once, Sallow. I have allowed that past affection to cloud my judgment. I have allowed you to walk a free man. No more."

"Free?" Sebastian sneers, "You keep saying that word, you must have forgotten its meaning for I have not been free in eight years."

"I have lived alongside the rats in sewers, I have starved, I have survived off rotting scraps. I have done much and more just to keep myself alive, and you call that freedom. What did I do to deserve that -"

"You are a murder, Sebastian!"

"I just wanted to save my sister! She was in unending pain, all I ever wanted was to help her! And you and my uncle tried to stop me! Only one person truly supported me!" Sebastian's breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with heavy huffs.

Ominis features twisted in disgust, "My wife is not yours to claim. We are no longer children, and it has been many years since she was yours. If you had just accepted that, if you had just stayed away. The miserable existence you created for yourself would be no concern of mine."

"But alas Sallow, here we stand. All things must come to an end, you are no exception."

Sebastian barks out a laugh, "Do you plan to kill me, Gaunt?"

"You do not matter enough for me to soil my hands in such a manner."

Sebastian hums, "I only matter enough for you to personally track me for months."

"Only because you came near my wife."

"My point still stands, and I did more than just go near her."

Ominis' grip tightened on his wand, his knuckles draining of color. "Of course you would take pride in that little indiscretion. I'll have you know that my wife does not. That's why she came back home to me. She is waiting for me at home this very moment, swelling with my child."

A ball dropped in Sebastian's stomach, nauseous at the thought of you pregnant with the Aurors child. "You didn't."

A satisfied smirked pulls at Ominis lips, allowing himself to enjoy the blow, for a moment he pays no real mind to Sebastian. But a moment was all Sebastian needed. He lunged.

Sebastian's hand wrapped around Ominis', yanking his away his wand. Tossing it, where it hit against the stone corner of the fireplace, landing with the sound of wood cracking.

Sebastian couldn't explain what came over him, to fight like a muggle, to abandon his wand in the face of a fight. All he knew was he needed to feel his fists collide with Ominis face, he needed to feel the impact, hear the crunch of bone as he landed blow after blow.

He didn't know how long it went on, but when he pulled back, breathing ragged, fists covered in Ominis' blood and knuckles raw and cracked, Ominis wasn't conscious, the only sign of life was his chest rising and falling with shallow breathes.

Sebastian stood, grimacing at the scene before him. Silently thanking the gods, he hadn't lost himself enough to kill someone he once loved. He wasn't dead, and at the very least, Sebastian was grateful for that. He had done terrible things in these past years, but there were still things he could not bring himself to do. Things he could never forgive if he did. Not again.

This was for the boy he was, the boys they were. Sebastian left the auror there, a silent prayer that their paths never cross again.

When he stepped out of the worn down cottage, rain was falling, showering down on him, soaking through his clothes, washing away the blood that clung to him, washing away his sins.

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes. Letting the smell of fresh wet earth permeate his senses. He strolled through Feldcroft as if he owned it, as if he belonged, as if it was his home and his wife he was heading towards. As far as he was concerned, it was.

You are his home, his life, his everything. And only the thought of having you again got him through those long years. He had laid out his path, his future, your future. All that was left was collecting that which he loved most.

His hand wrapped around the handle, cold metal biting into his skin. He could feel the magic that was surrounding the house, protection charms on top of protection charms. But these charms were not meant to protect but trap.

Sebastian pulled his wand out, casting counter charms, breaking down layer after layer. It was not quick work, and truthfully not something he would have been able to do if not all that he had learned on the run. The magic he was using to break down the barriers is something others would call dark. Sebastian just calls it a different kind of magic, a necessary kind.

He finally broke through, the knob turning in his hand, the door sliding open to welcome him into the warm cottage. The smell of cinnamon toast was wafting through the air, nostalgic and inviting.

"You're back husband." Your voice was meek, docile. You came out from around the corner that led down the hall, your bare feet padding softly against the carpets you had laid out around the house.

"Sebastian." You stopped in your tracks, hands at your side, fists bunching into the fabric of your skirts. "Where is Ominis?" Sebastian's lip twitched in irritation at the question. "Gone."

"Y-you-" A gasp escaped, your hand coming up to press the tips of your fingers to your mouth in shock.

"For merlin's sake, I did not kill the man. He just happens to be ... indisposed." Sebastian waved a hand in the air. "But he'll come back to an empty home, you're coming with me."

You walked towards him, steps slow and cautious. Reaching a hand out to caress his cheek once you stood before him. Feeling him, in the flesh, your skin against his, that was your breaking point. You lauched yourself into his arms.

Violent sobs overtook you, your body shaking with the force of them as you clung to Sebastian. You held onto him as tight as you could, readjusting your grip to try and tighten it every few seconds. You crumpled in his arms, he allowed you to, sinking to the ground so you could sit in his lap. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as he cradled you.

"I'm sor-ry, I-m sorry, s-orry." You mumbled almost incoherent apologies into his shirt in between hiccups. "My sweet girl," he cooes, "you have nothing to apologize for." One arm holds you as the other hand runs through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

He holds you, whispering soothing words and sweet nothings until you calmed down. "I shouldn't have come back ... I felt so guilty for betraying Ominis ... I-I," you shook your head, trying to articulate your thoughts.

"He supported me for so long, I felt like I owed it to him to come back. My own happiness be damned but ... he ... I've been trapped in this house for months, Sebastian. All this time, all I could think of was you," you brought a protective hand up to rest on your stomach, "and our child."

"Our?"

"This life that grows inside me, it could only be yours, my love. The thing about contraceptive potions ... you can make them for one person. The ones I brewed only kept out Ominis. It worked for years, I know it didn't just suddenly stop. This is your child, Sebastian, our child."

His lips are on yours in a hearts beat, soft and needy. His tongue swipinging over your bottom lip as his hand tangles in your hair. It felt like home, it was a feeling he longed for during the countless nights alone.

You moaned into the kiss, allowing yourself to finally relax, to feel safe in the Sebastian's arms. His fingers had come up to clumsily undo the buttons of your blouse, never breaking your kiss.

You pulled away, taking over, discarding your clothes in a rush, your fingers precise where his had been ill practiced. He did the same, tossing his clothes aside without a care before pulling you back into him, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

"I am going to ruin this house the same way I ruined you." He pressed a kiss to your temple, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down your skin. "I'm going to fuck you over every surface of this house." He pushed you up against the nearest wall, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden impact . His lips traveled down, warm kisses along your neck making a shiver run down your spine.

"I'll not leave a single room unspoiled for that insecure twat." He kissed his way down your torso, settling himself between your legs, pulling a leg over his shoulder to expose you to him, you sucked in a breathe as his breathe fanned over you.

"Fuck, you're so wet already. This is all for me, pretty girl?" His tongue swipes slow and torturous over your sopping cunt, flicking over your bundle of nerves at the end. "So fucking sweet."

He looking up at you with hungry eyes, every puff of air he breathes out hitting your clit, making you shiver above him but he make no move to continue. "Sebastian, please." Your words are breathless and a hand tangles in his hair as you attempt to push his face right where you need him.

"Beg."

"Sebastian." You throw your head back in frustration. You couldn't find the words to describe how you want him if you tried. "Stop playing games with me."

"I'm not." He leans just enough to let the tip of his nose graze the sensitive bub, "I just wanna hear you say it. Come on, just once." He presses a kiss, you sigh at the feeling.

"Please, Sebastian, I need you, please touch me."

Those words, the slight whine in your voice, sent a jolt to his already hard cock. He has one hand supporting your hip and leg over his shoulder, the other arm supporting your back and pushing you closer to him.

His mouth is pressed back against you, sucking, nipping, licking away as you grip his hair. You had always felt pleasure with Ominis, wanted him even but not like this.

Though the physicalities of it all were much the same, it was different, in your heart, in your soul. No other could make you feel the way he did, the way you felt right now.

Your legs tensed, attempting to close around his head. His arm dropped from your hip, wrapping around your thigh to pry your legs back apart, never stopping his ministrations against your throbbing clit.

Your orgasm racked your body, your head thrown back in pleasure. Sebastian stayed kneeling, peppering kisses along your inner thighs and hips. Chuckling to himself as he listened to your pants, your body trying to regulate itself again coming down from your peak.

Your legs wobbled as he stood, allowing you to plant both legs on the ground once again. He leaned in kissing you, allowing the taste of your cum to settle on your tounge.

"You're all fucking mine, now show where your bed is sweetheart." You lead him to your bedroom by his hand.

"How does your husband normally fuck you?" You hummed, crawling onto the bed before flopping onto your back, bringing your knees up just enough to give him space to join you, as Ominis normally does.

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth with a tsk. "Everytime?"

"Near enough. Would you like something different?"

Sebastian walks over to you, bringing his hand to wander over your breasts, pulling a pert nipple between fingers. Twisting and pulling at the nub, earning a soft moan from you. He lets his fingers wander, trailing over your ribs, scratching his nails lightly over your stomach.

He stoops just below your hips, giving a quick tap. "Come here." You crawl back off the mattress, slightly uncertain in your movements. You stand before Sebastian, feeling even more exposed though nothing has changed.

He examins you, letting his eyes follow his hands path as it trails. He gathers your hair in one palm, pulling it behind your shoulders and letting it fall loose.

His fingers graze your collar bone, the way he's looking at you makes you feel like a piece of art, something that exists only for him to admire. Running his fingers over every curve and crevice like he's trying to understand how you were created. You shiver under his scrutinizing gaze.

He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, softly, just enough to bring your eyes to his. "Bend over." His voice is soft but commanding, leaving no room for argument. And you don't need to be told twice.

You gather all your pillows, pulling them to your chest to prop you up a bit as you lean over the mattress. The anticipation alone making your clit throb.

Sebastian brings a rough hand up to further feel as he looks you over, the sight almost rivals looking up at you from between your legs, almost. He grips the flesh of your ass, gods how many times did he have this exact dream?

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on, do you know that?" He let his hands settle in a firm grip on your waist, leaning over you, his hard cock pressed into your bottom as he pressed kisses into your spine, whispering as he went.

"I promise I'll make you happy, I'll give you anything you want or need. I'll give you a life you deserve."

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, "You ready?" Letting his cock sink in slowly after you nodded your approval.

He groaned at the feeling of the wet warmth wrapping around him, quickly falling into a steady place. Sliding in and out of you with deep stokes, allowing the tip of his cock to bully your cervix.

You could feel the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, so close to tipping you over the edge. You buried your face the mattress, muffling your cries and tangling your fists in the blankets.

"Oh no baby, I wanna those pretty little moans." Sebastian wrapped your hair in a fist, using it to pull you up into his chest. The grip of his other traveled from your hips to your stomach, pressing down just below your naval. The grip he had in your hair moving to keep a firm grip on your throat, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

This angle allowed him to fuck you at depths you'd never felt before, depths that had you tipping, the coil snapping inside you as you spasmed around him. Throwing your head back in pure ecstasy as another orgasm over took you.

Sebastian nuzzled his face into the exposed crook of your neck, sucking and biting in a fresh pink mark. His hips slowing their pace but continuing enough to draw out your pleasure.

"You didn't finish." You were panting, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. You continued to clench around him, your body overwhelmed but still mindlessly chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

"I didn't want to yet." You could feel him smile against you."You're not satisfied yet, you animal?" You let out a breathy laugh but Sebastian only hummed bringing his fingers down to rub harsh circles into your swollen bud.

"I'll never be done with you." He pulled out, letting you lean against him, almost pure dead weight, unable to keep yourself standing.

He leads you to the kitchen on unsteady legs, arm around your waist supporting you the entire way. "Keel for me, love."

A good obedient girl, all his, only his. He smiled down at you as you struggled to fulfill his request, looking up at him through your lashes once you succeeded. "So pretty." He muttered, in awe of the sight before him.

You wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft guiding him into your waiting mouth. Your tongue wrapping around the underside of his shaft as you bob around him, your hand stroking what you can't fit. "Good fucking girl." Sebastian practically growls the words.

One hand shooting out to tangle at the roots of your hair, he uses the leverage to push you further down. You let him, your own hands gripping the flesh of his bottom, blunt nails digging in as you gag around him. Sebastian let's out a low hiss, enjoying the slight mix pain and pleasure.

He uses his grip to hold you in place as he thrusts, the tip of his cock abusing the back of your throat. Drool is dripping down your chin and tears well in your eyes but you let him use you, the sight of him with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and teeth biting so hard into his bottom lip you think he might make himself bleed, it's too lovely a sight for you to try and pull away.

His thrusts become erratic before burying himself so deep you gag around him as your nose presses against his pubic bone. Tears finally falling free as his warm, salty cum shoots down your throat, he holds you there until he's sure you've swallowed all of it.

When he finally pulls free with a soft pop from your mouth, your lips are puffy and swollen with a line of drool still connecting the two of you.

He pulls you to your feet, still using your hair as his personal tool. He pushes you up against the table, your hands falling to grip the hard wood and steady yourself. Sebastian doesn't wait before dipping his head to the valley between your breasts, his tongue darting out the catch the drool that had slid down your skin, his tongue following the wet path up the collum of your throat ending at your lips.

His kiss is feral, possessive, all tongue and teeth nipping at your lower lip. His hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up onto the wood. "Merlin, I need you like I need air." He speaks the words against your lips, his eyes falling shut as he presses his forehead to yours, a shuttering breath falling from his lips.

"I love you, Sebastian." You whisper back to him, using the back of a hand to rub against his cheek softly. He smiles at you, a man captived by what he never truly thought he would have, never thought he deserved. Truthfully he's not sure he does deserve this, deserve you. But he'll be damned before he lets anyone else have you.

He's using his tip to gather the slick from your still seeping hole, rubbing it over your clit, making you shudder. When he feels he's gathered enough he pushes back into you, making you gasp.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, letting your head fall against a shoulder. He splays one large hand over your lower back and uses the other to balance against the table. His hips stutter at first, still sensitive from his orgasm, but he find his pace.

You had never realized how loving sex can feel, how his pace alone could convey that. The way his fingers dig into your skin with every thrust, every pant and groan that escapes him. You knew, all of it told you, this is a man that worships you, a man that has been enamored by you since he first met you. And though he may tell you, you're his, first and foremost, he's yours.

It didn't take long for either of you to reach another orgasm, both your bodies still so sensitive. You clung to him as your third orgasm overtook you. His grip on you was brusing as his hips jutted rhythmless against you, he muttered incoherent praises into your skin and his seed shot into you.

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other as you came down from your respective highs. "My sweet boy, my Sebastian." You mumbled against him as you stroked your fingers through his hair, the words made him cling tighter to you, part of him worrying if he lets you go this time he'll never hold you again.

"Promise you won't leave me."

"Oh my darling," you coo at him, bringing him up to face you, to look you in the eyes, "you have my heart, you carried it with you all these years. I couldn't leave you if I tried for I am yours, mind, body and soul. I think our love could transcend lifetimes."

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Epilogue;

"I am not, you insatiable beast." You giggled pulling your hands out of the soapy water you had just been using to wash dishes.

"You satiate me, love." He turns you to face him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Beautiful." He mumbles, bringing a hand up to rest on the swell of your stomach. "Me or the baby?"

He hums, "Both. The most beautiful beings to every grace this gods forsaken planet."

You shake your head, "Well, you can't put another in me until this one is out. And we still have some time yet so I think you should focus on the here and now and go get ready for work."

You brush his curls out of his face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. He hums, smiling at you, "Yes, you are ever correct, wife."

"Husband." You give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Brother, it's mine!" The shrill voice of your five year old daughter echos through your house, followed by the mischievous giggle of her younger brother.

"Hey! Hey!" Sebastian calls out, rushing over to the running toddler in two quick strides, scooping the child up in his arms. The boy giggles wrapping his arms around his father. "We don't steal, my boy. Play nice now, you lot cannot be stressing your mommy while she's pregnant. It's not good for the baby."

He kneels, pressing the stolen stuffed rabbit back into his daughter's hands. She smiles quickly at him before scampering away, toy in hand. He shoos his son shortly after before turning back to you.

"What's the max?"

"I was thinking this might be the final one." You leaned against the counter, watching him with a glint in your eye.

"I was thinking at least one more." He responded.

"Aye perhaps. I could never say no to you." You walk over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"How do you think the muggles do it?" You asked.

"I don't think they do, bet they cry themselves to sleep wishing they had a silencio charm."

"Seb!" You scolded with a playful slap to his chest.

When Sebastian was young he thought himself the master of plans, thought himself brilliant even but nothing will ever top this, this success. The best plan he ever wrought, whisking you away to America. Muggles know nothing of him, nothing of you. His life is sweet, a dream come true. And he is most grateful.

[ohbo-ohno]

scene in that conqueror ghost au where he sends his best hounds into the forest to find the runaway princess <3

cw for noncon sex & rough sex & just lots of fear and anger

when she hears the hounds start barking and baying she doesn’t even think, just runs. sprints through the woods, tearing her feet to shreds and kept moving purely due to adrenaline. she’s seen ghost’s beasts tear a man limb-from-limb and play tug of war with his arm, she’s terrified to think of what they’ll do to her.

she’s tackled to the ground without any warning, sent flying and slammed to the dirt floor with a shout. there’s something heavy and hot panting on top of her, something she holds her arms over her face to try and hide from.

but it’s not a hound, it’s johnny.

johnny, who’s been her most loyal confidant and her best friend since she learned what those things were. johnny, who she’s been a little bit in love with for as long as she can remember. johnny, who at the last minute decided not to run away with her. johnny who decided he’d rather stay with her parents’ murderer, their people’s conqueror.

he’s angry and upset, his face gone red with exertion and his veins bulging from his neck. he’s panting nearly as harshly as she is when he locks both of her wrists in one hand, lifts her off the ground when he pulls her up so she’s hovering mid-air.

barks in her face, just like the hounds she can still hear hunting. “why did you do that? why did you run? you know we can’t protect you out here, you know it isn’t safe, i’ve told you a thousand times! what if someone else found you? a rebel or a raider would tear you to shreds. we’re supposed to stay with ghost, you know that. he keeps us safe.”

she rears back as far as she can, screams, “how dare you! you were supposed to run with me, you swore to protect me! you’ve betrayed our kingdom, our people, and given in to that evil brute!”

johnny’s snarl is loud and almost all anger. he slams her back to the ground without any care for her head, flips her onto her stomach when she cries out and can’t see much more than black spots in her vision.

“ghost keeps us safe,” he spits again, hand heavy on the back of her neck and keeping her forced into the dirt, one cheek squished as she desperately glares at him in her peripheral. “he’s good to me, and he’d be good to you too if you behaved. why can’t you just listen to him? he gave us everything.”

“he took everything from us-“

“not from me,” johnny’s teeth click in the air right by your ear, sweat dripping from his forehead to yours. “he taught me how to fight, how to truly fight - how to protect you. he gave me bedchambers, pillows stuffed with feathers not straw. he gave me you. how could you leave him?”

she can only bite back a sob at johnny’s words, hardly able to believe what he’s saying. “he killed my parents.”

there’s a silence, long and heavy, and then -

“maybe they deserved to die.”

she lets out a true cry at that, loud and high and all grief. she tries to struggle, can’t do more than wriggle in the dirt.

“how could you say that?!” she heaves, eyes screwed up as she desperately tries to get some sort of hold in the dirt, tries to slam herself back into him and get him off.

he’s saying something, but she’s too worked up, to lost in her cries and her panting and her pounding heartbeat, to hear him.

she goes still when he gets a hand around the bottom of her torn and dirtied skirts, can hardly believe what’s happening when she feels cool air against her thighs.

he presses against her bared behind, the thick leather of his pants smooth.

“j-johnny-“ she tries, voice hardly more than a whisper as she feels his other fiddle with his pants behind her. “johnny, what’re you-?”

“hush,” johnny says harshly in her ear, tone closer to command than comfort then it’s ever been before. “ghost gave me you. i gave myself to you, but he gave you to me. how could you run away from that?”

she cries out when she feels the best of his manhood slide between her thighs, starts fighting with a renewed vigor.

“stop, stop, you can’t-!” she tries to kick him, tries to roll from underneath him, even resorts to throwing her head back and trying to hit him. she makes no progress, just gets a growing pressure against the nape of her neck that forces her to the dirt, forces her down. “johnny, get off of me!”

“you ran from me,” johnny spits in your ear, and you recognize his tone now. it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes johnny will work himself up so much, become so enraged or impassioned about something, that he’ll begin to cry. he’s always hated it but she’s loved it, loved the vulnerability of her favorite knight, the proof of his humanity.

his voice is a little bit teary now, tense with anger but wavering too.

“you ran from me,” he repeats. “why, princess? I’ve given you everything. i thought you liked me.”

“i do,” she gasps. “i did - but if you put your cock anywhere near me i swear to you that will change. i will never again even look you in the eye.”

a small whine sounds over her shoulder, then a louder growl.

“that’s not true,” he rumbles, teeth locking onto her shoulder for just a moment, pulling away when she cries out. “ghost can make you. we’ll go back home and ghost will show you why it was stupid to run. he’ll fix all of this.”

she shouts and screams a little, continue to kick and squirm as he rearranges her skirts and ignores her completely. he tucks the bottom hem into the back of her neckline, never taking his dominant hand from her nape.

when he lines the head of his cock up against her dry entrance, she screams in fear instead of anger.

“no, no, nonono, johnny, stop! please, please, i’ll tear, you can’t-!” she heaves a breath, coughs on the exhale. “oh, please don’t, johnny, i can’t- i can’t take it.”

there’s a sound over her shoulder, something between a whine and a coo, and she thinks maybe she’s talked some sense into him. maybe he’ll even let her up, let her go-

she shouts when two of his fingers slips into her, bone dry. the sensation is uncomfortable, even the slight stretch a sting. he’s silent as he grinds his palm against her clit, doesn’t speak as he slowly works her body against her.

she cries, tries to fight every hint of unwilling arousal. but she’s never been able to fight johnny, never really been able to say no to him, and her cunt begins to leak around his digits. he slips another in, locks his teeth onto the meat of her shoulder and gnaws while he stretches her.

she continues to cry, little hiccuping breaths that make her sound like a child with a scraped knee, not a woman being brutalized by the man she trusted most.

eventually, he decides she’s ready. he pulls his face away from her skin, pushes himself up to stare down and her cheek further into the dirt in the process. she whines again when she feels him line back up at her hole, unable to speak with the way her face is squished.

she nearly screams when he sinks in. johnny isn’t as large as ghost but he’s not small, either, and he never takes his time entering her. there’s hardly a heartbeat between his tip forcing itself into her hole and his sac resting against her thighs.

he pants in her ear when he’s buried inside, ignores her whimpers and gives her a small kiss to the cheek. it only makes her cry harder, makes her squeeze her eyes tightly shut and pray this ends as soon as possible.

he’s rough when he fucks her, as he always is. ghost always says johnny’s too needy to take his time, that if she wants him to be softer she should spread her legs more often, let him rut more regularly so he doesn’t need to beg for a release before it’s given.

she always glares at that. they both know it’s not her who decides when her legs are spread, but it’s just another idea that lures johnny away from her side and to his.

they’re both nearly silent while he fucks her. she whines a bit at every thrust, air forced out of her and her head too pinned to do anything about it. he groans when she squeezes involuntarily, loud and long like he’s seeing God.

the hounds continue to bark, but they don’t sound any closer.

it doesn’t take him long to come, planting himself deep inside of her and dumping his cum. his moan is loud, comes straight from the soul and nearly rattles her bones.

his free hand, the one that’s held a bruising grip throughout the fucking, slips down her stomach. she whines again when she realizes what he’s doing.

“shh,” he soothes, the thumb on her neck stroking in soft circles just as the fingers over her clit begin to. “i have to make you feel good too. those are the rules.”

she squeezes her eyes shut with a sob, goes limp beneath his hold. those are the rules - ghost tells them that unless he says otherwise, they’re each to come once before johnny pulls out of her.

she tries to fight the climax, finds that she’s too tired, to heartbroken, to keep it from pulling her under. johnny talks her through it, she can hear and feel the rumble of his voice, but she has no idea what he says.

he only pulls out when he goes fully soft. his fingers stroke over her swollen cunt for just a moment, but obediently back away when she closes her legs.

he helps her stand, helps her lay her skirts flat. they hold eye contact for a heavy moment, both of them angry for their own reasons and unwilling to back down.

she breaks first. “please,” she rasps, glancing away from him and flushing at the crack in her voice. “please let me go, johnny.”

he makes a sad sound, wraps his arms around her shoulder and waist and tugs her beneath his chin. “this is why we need ghost. i can’t teach you properly, he’s the only one who knows how.”

she sobs into his skin, the familiarity of the hug mixed with his horrible words sending her mind reeling.

“don’t worry,” he tries to soothe. “it’ll be okay. ghost will make it all okay.”

he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is her.

he doesn’t let go of her hand for the entire walk back to the castle. he doesn’t speak to her, and she doesn’t speak to him. the tension between them is thicker than it’s ever been, both so sure of their convictions against the other.

ghost is waiting at the castle gates when they arrive. johnny pulls her along even more quickly, seems to almost forget about her entirely when he sets eyes on ghost.

“ghost,” johnny says on a sigh, tentatively smiling as he stops just a foot or so away from the man. “i got her. see?” he gestures over at her, like she’s not the only other living thing anywhere nearby.

ghost’s smirk is evil to her, a mean curl to his lips that promises nothing but cruelty and punishment.

he steps forward until he’s nearly chest to chest with johnny, curls a hand around the nape of the man’s neck and softly taps their foreheads together.

“i see that. you did well, good boy.”

johnny fucking melts, goes loose in ghost’s grip and needs to be held up for a moment. “i didn’t run away,” he reassures, a little desperate tinge to his voice. “didn’t even think about it, not for a second.”

“hush,” ghost soothes as johnny’s volume grows, kneading at the back of his neck. “i know, pup. you’re too loyal for that, huh? you know exactly who you come home to every night.”

johnny nods, tucks his face forward into ghost’s chest and lets out a happy noise when he’s allowed to burrow as closely as he wants.

the princess’ hand is dead weight in johnny’s palm, slick with sweat and going cold as she stares with wide eyes at ghost.

it’s so much worse than she thought, she would never have imagined johnny was so twisted up in ghost’s web already.

“now,” ghost rumbles, running a hand through johnny’s sweat-slick mohawk. “how will we treat our little wayward princess a lesson?”

she raised her chin high, steels herself against the mockery in ghost’s eyes and tells herself that whatever he does, she will not cry.

he only smiles at her. he reaches out with his free hand, grips her firmly by her trembling chin and pulls her forward until she’s shoulder to shoulder with johnny. he ducks lower, until they’re on eye-level.

“i will break you princess. you’ll learn to kneel, to obey, just like my dog has. you can fight it all you want, but we both knows there’s one way this ends.”

she bites her tongue against a retort, puts all of her energy into not letting a single tear fall past her waterline.

ghost rumbles another noise, one that’s comforting to johnny at the very least, the knight burrowing further into his king’s throat.

the princess is tugged forward until ghost can wrap his other arm around her, tuck her into his chest so she’s nearly sandwiched between the two of them.

she takes a deep breath, she closes her eyes, and she does not cry.

[radiorumble]

I love your fallen angel vox art so much! anymore fallen angel vox content? Like headcanons or art? It’s completely fine if not! :)

A lot of credit goes to @cannibal-hound who first came up with the concept, and now this sweet guy lives rent free in my heart. Happy you like him too!

Some tidbits we came up with!

He might've been a bit jarred when he first got to Hell, but he couldn't help himself, he was naturally drawn to people down on their luck, he'd listen to their problems, give them advice, go out of his way to help them.

And it paid off, he never looked for anything in return, but he uplifted so many people, that the little channel he kept updating even when had no followers, he made media that meant something to him, and it didn't take long to become something rather endearing in Hell. Eventually after some time he became a producer, he had contracts with people but is so oblivious he never grasped that he owns their souls, but all his deals work out in the other person's favor, so people tend to come to him, and he feels so lucky so many people want to work on his ideas. He has the most loyal staff, clients, and production team in Hell. He's an upstanding, genuine guy.

He's dense however, oblivious to some insults and innuendos, he always see people in the best light. But when something does register, he's easily wounded. He knows he's in Hell, but he can't understand why someone would be so mean, completely unprovoked! He'll cry, sob even.

Val and Vel tried to tease him at first when he was first invited to an overlord meeting, he didn't even understand he reached that sort of status.

But eventually they become his biggest fans, they realize thru attempt after attempt to get under his skin, that he's a genuinely sweet guy, who uses the power of nice to somehow navigate through Hell, like some sort of magician. Ok maybe it's not just him being nice, he's also crazy intelligent, and understands how to make and maintain connections, and despite taking some time to question heaven's system, he's talented at understanding how systems work, and has a good sense of what people need and want. He's the best boss ever, his staff and those contracted to him, would do anything for him. It's a huge part of why his company's so successful. If there was a poll in his universe, he would've won the award for being the cutest <3

He LOVES Charlie's hotel, he thinks it's a great idea! Alastor can't stand him, Angel Vox is the least judgmental person you could meet, he even sees the best in Alastor, so Alastor can't get seem to get under his skin.

[arealphrooblem]

Retirement

Synopsis: After years of building his criminal empire, Villain has only one desire left: to walk away, preferably with his spy and the only person he trusts.

The exhaustion that had hounded and haunted him steadily for years finally came to a head at a little villa in Tuscany. The quiet murmur of an engagement party echoed behind him as he leaned against the railing of the balcony, taking in the glowing sunset that everyone else seemed content to ignore. Every so often he would sneak glances at his spy, stunning in an elegant off shoulder gown he picked for her, as she worked the crowd.

She had been pulling off the act of her life for close to a decade, pretending to be his young, beautiful, sweet but clueless wife at functions like these, gathering intel that he later used to brutal efficiency in his deals with the major players of the underworld.

Fondness blooms in his chest, a stubborn steady heat not unlike the Tuscan sun, at the sight of her giggling with father of the bride to be, plying him with more wine and loosening that tongue. Suddenly the lack of her attention felt unbearable.

“Darling,” he called, catching her eye immediately. No matter how distracted she seemed on the surface, she always had a preternatural awareness of her surroundings, including him.

“Come look at this sunset before it slips away.” He beckoned her to him and she excused herself with a bashful smile. The man she spoke to looked over at Villain with an appraising eye, as if smelling a weakness in their love.

His spy sauntered over to him with natural catlike grace that he never failed to appreciate, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. They long since dispensed with the awkwardness of causal public intimacy. Even so, Villain felt a tiny flutter in his chest each time she did so.

“Did you find anything of interest?” he murmured, gazing out at the clouds.

She leaned their arms together, brushing her nose against his ear. Gooseflesh ripped down his arm, hidden safely underneath his linen button down.

“He jokes about the mounting cost of the wedding. I think some of his investments hadn’t borne the fruit he thought they did. And his daughter plans to drain him of quite a lot of money for her nuptials. He will be vulnerable to buy out a couple months after.”

The way she could calculate so much on such little information made her priceless beyond measure to him. Many other criminal kingpins have tried to poach her over the years, but she remained loyal to him. He wondered what made him so deserving but never dared to ask.

Then she giggled, part of the facade of the mooning couple, and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“You look tired, sir,” she said, her voice light but her gaze serious. The only person who could see through his mask. “Shall we retire in a giggling fit and let them make their own conclusions?”

“You know me so well,” he said, offering her a wan smile.

They made their excuses, his hand just low enough on the small of her back to broadcast a certain message behind their early departure. He wondered, as they drove back to the hotel, if she knew what very real feelings smoldered in his guarded heart. It wouldn’t surprise him, as so little escaped her notice. But if she did suspect, she never acted upon it or so much as hinted at it.

Their hotel rooms connected through a door in the middle. His spy peeled off to her room in the hallway, always desperate to change out of her dresses and wipe off her makeup in the shower. Left to her own devices, she never cared much for primping or enhancing her appearance. But as his “wife” she chose to look as close to the feminine ideal so coveted by the petty, shallow men of his rivals.

Villain found her stunning either way, but he much preferred seeing her in her natural state. The two of them lived under a series of masks and layers. To see underneath even one of them showed a trust that few on this Earth would experience.

He leaned back in the arm chair in the sitting room, nursing two fingers of fine whiskey, a bottle of red wine waiting for her with an empty glass. The exhaustion tugged at him. For years, playing the game, teasing power and wealth with each victory, fueled him. But now the thought of continuing felt overwhelming. At forty three, he was not old, but the thought of continuously spending all this energy to stay on top, to keep the throne he built for himself, felt like a young man’s game anymore.

“What’s wrong?”

His spy made no sound as she stepped light as a cat over the wood floors. She squeezed the ends of her hair with a towel, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Are you getting sick,” she asked again, settling into the chair next to him.

He shook his head, reaching over to pop open the wine bottle and pour her a glass.

“No, I’m not sick,” he said, handing it to her.

She accepted it with a skeptic hum, eyebrows raised. After a generous sip she set it back down and returned to drying her hair, a ritual he had witnessed many times before and yet now enchanted him. Her hair had a natural wave to it before she attacked it with products and a straightener.

“I’m thinking we should buy out his jewelry business first,” she said, back to business. “It’s newer and created by him and not inherited so he will have less sentimentality about it. Plus I would bet my life half his stock at least comes from the black market so we will gain all those contacts.”

“That is if the wedding breaks him and if he can be blackmailed to sell and if someone doesn’t get to him first and all of that remains months away.”

“Always stay five steps ahead. Is that not our creed?”

She took another sip of wine, the look in her eyes edging on concern. He ignored it, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and focusing his gaze on the flames in the fireplace. After one minute or several minutes — his mind terribly far away — the touch of fingers on his chin, firm and guiding, snapped him from his thoughts and forced his gaze to hers.

“Out with it,” she said softly.

It should terrify him how easily his mask breaks with her. How transparent it has become. Her mask remained like frosted glass, where he could see the shapes of her emotions and take an educated guess. But him? She peered through him as if he were a stream of clear mountain water.

“Does this not ever get tedious for you?” he asked. “This game. These plans. The work never stops.”

Her tranquil mask stayed firmly fixed but he noticed some tension in the rigid line of her jaw.

“Those kinds of thoughts are not a luxury I can indulge in,” she said carefully after several long moments. “The work must be done, regardless of how it makes me feel. The alternative is so much worse than tedium.”

“If you could indulge in that line of thinking, how would it make you feel?” he asked, persistent. A dog with a bone.

She licked her lips, a rare nervous tick, drawing his attention to the traces of blood red lipstick still in the crease of her skin.

“How does it make you feel?” she asked instead. Always taking her guidance from him. Always following in his shadow.

“I feel . . .like retiring.” He finally admitted.

Her eyebrows jumped up her forehead. It wasn’t often that he could surprise her anymore, but this took her aback.

“Retirement? At our age?”

Perhaps she did feel different, ten years his junior and still out for blood.

“My empire is built. There is nothing left to do but maintain it. And lately the thought of that is just . . .exhausting. I find myself thinking of just walking away.”

Horror broke past her mask before she tamped it down. “You can’t just leave.”

Me. The word hung unspoken in the air between them, thick and heavy with the childhood pain she would only admit to in hints and whispers. And he could only hear it because of how twined their lives had become, the very real intimacy in a false marriage.

“I can and I will,” he replied. “I have more than enough wealth to last me the rest of my life. I will gladly hand my empire over to you and squash any that threaten your leadership. I would only ever be a phone call away for you.”

Deep unhappiness twists in the lines of her forehead, in the corners of her mouth. “I thought we were partners.”

“You are more than capable of running things yourself. You rule from the shadows as it is.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. The Villain was a cruel man by necessity and habit and he indulged in it now, a final test. A way to gauge her reaction to his next offer. So far the thought of being apart from him seemed unbearable to her. How far would that loyalty extend? Did she only care when it gave her more power? Would she mourn the loss of him or the loss of their success?

 “Is that what you want? To abandon everything we’ve worked for and leave me stuck to clean up the resulting mess?”

Only one person in the entire world was allowed to speak to him with such disrespect and get away with it and this was the first time she used such an opportunity.

“What I want,” he said slowly, “is to live in peaceful solitude in a cabin in the Swiss Alps. To see people only in the market. To walk a rambling trail out to a crystal clear lake any time I wanted.”

He took a calculated risk — his favorite hobby — and clasped her hand in his. “And I want you to come with me.”

Bare longing crossed her face, more intimate than if he had actually seen her naked body.

“And what would I spy on out there in the middle of the mountains,” she whispered.

“My wife would not need to spy on anything. She could spend her days however she liked.”

The implications were bright, as if he lit them with neon, but she stubbornly refused to look.

“You want to keep up this charade even in retirement? Be something for old ladies to gossip about in town?”

“The charade doesn’t interest me. I much prefer authenticity.”

Her gaze bore a hole in him, trying to piece it together. Purposefully obtuse.

“I need you to spit it out in plain English,” she said, voice shaking ever so slightly.

No more hiding for either of them, it seemed.

“I want to marry you. No play-acting — the real thing.”

“Why?” She looked so lost, so off-kilter. Her perfect mask crumbling in the face of such unpredictability.

He pressed a kiss, lingering and tender, on her bare knuckles.

 “Why? What do you think drives a man to wish to marry?”

“Many reasons — cover, business, security, continuing family lines —“

“I love you,” he said.

She stared at him in uncharacteristic shock. “The terror of the criminal underworld — talking about marriage and love. You must be joking.”

“I’m not.”

Her gaze flickered over him as precise as a scalpel, dissecting him for motive, for the slightest hint of insincerity, and he offered himself up gladly to her scrutiny.

“Why me?” she finally asks, rare and precious vulnerability slipping out. He treasures it more than gold.

“Who else could it be?” He flipped her hand over, tracing the life lines with the tip of his finger. He does not miss her soft intake of breath at the touch. “Who else do I trust more than you? Who else commands my respect? Who else knows and understands me? Who else is as brilliant and stunning and perfect as you?”

A bright flush glowed on her cheeks at his praise, so rarely given and never in such abundance. It rendered her speechless and he flinched inwardly at that.

“I realize that I have cultivated myself into a person that never considers love. It’s true that I have not felt it in a long time. But I assure you that I would not pull you into a cold marriage devoid of affection. If, of course, it’s possible you should even want such an arrangement.”

What a humiliatingly stilted proposal. He used to pride himself on his ability for smooth negotiations but in the face of her, in the stakes of their potential happiness, he retreats back into a stumbling teenager.

She, in her rare shows of kindness, reached out and cupped his face. Her fingers feel cool against his face — dear God was he blushing?

“It’s possible,” she said softly.

He swallowed, feeling like a boy again, heart pounding treacherously in his chest. “Is that a yes?”

She tucks a stray lock behind his ear, fingernail catching on the shell of it, and desire swooped low in his stomach.

“I get to pick out my ring,” she told him.

He smiled, small and genuine and rusty. “Anything you want.”

She matched him with a smile of her own. “I like the sound of that.”

[coelacanthking]

What the fuck is up with Mirage?

[[Spoilers for Rise of the Beasts under the cut.]]

I had to take a whole 24 hours to process ROTB. Damn, it was so good. I have not latched onto anything Transformers related for such a long time: so much about it highlights what we love about Transformers, and what it means to be a Transformers fan. But I’ve been hyperfixating on the star of the show–Mirage–since before I walked into the theater. He’s cocksure, carefree, and so damn loyal. And he ain’t bad to look at either. But I had to look past my infatuation to see that there is inherently something very, very strange about him that I haven’t seen anyone else talk about.

Absolutely no hate going forward, just observations.

Mirage is absolutely not your typical Cybertronian. As we all know, your average bot will have one alt-mode that they can scan new facets to as they desire, shedding them as they go. Some are even triple changers, able to go from alt to alt. In fact, I think Bumblebee qualifies as a triple changer in this movie. Perhaps something happened between his own film and this one, who knows. But as far as we know, that’s the extent of alt-mode limits.

Mirage is not a fan of limits. In the scene when he was trying to convince Noah to join the Autobots, Mirage was able to flip from alt to alt to alt (then onto another alt) absolutely effortlessly. He’s able to use his t-cog like a freaking Rolodex, spinning up a new one whenever he has a mind to. This is very unusual in of itself, since we don’t see any other bots other than he and Bumblebee taking new alts for the whole movie.

And then there’s his illusion work. I was only a little disappointed that none of his iconic invisibility was used, but the mimicry (which seems to be a page he took out of Hound’s book) is well done and seems to be something he is very comfortable and skilled using. Again, I can’t recall another instance of another Cybertronian having a skill quite like this one, in this or any other movie.

Ah, and let’s not forget the little bit of himself that he peeled off and flipped to Noah, which morphed into a great little handheld weapon. So damn strange.

And then there’s the power armor.

I don’t know if Noah’s handheld helped to integrate Mirage onto his body, but that is without a doubt NOT something we’ve seen before in a Transformers series/movie. There are the exosuits that Spike and Daniel wear in TF the Movie ('87), and Verity's armor in Last Stand of The Wreckers, but those are just fitted suits. The closest thing I can think of is the Apex Armor in TFP, and that isn’t a sentient piece of technology, just something that snaps into place as it’s engaged.

So what’s the point of all this rambling?

I think Mirage is an Outlier.

And not just any Outlier. As we know from the comics, Outliers come in so many shades, and no two individuals are ever the same. But there seems to be no limit to Mirage’s abilities. He is perhaps the most impressive Outlier in any Transformers continuity, or at least one of the very few of his kind left alive since the fall of Cybertron. And perhaps this is the reason for his attitude; after a Cybertronian lifetime of chafing under scrutiny and trying to be made sense of, my man said 'screw it' and invested in himself. Maybe these abilities of his are the reason he’s so willing to throw himself into everything he does, without hesitation or sense of self-preservation. Because he can adapt to whatever situation he finds himself in.

“There are more like you?”

“Like me? Naw.”

He’s a big deal, and he knows it.

[riddle-me-ri]

Idk why but I LOVE the idea of the riddlers Having a dog that is there best friend and major weakness (I imagine most of there dynamics would be similar to Holt and cheddar from Brooklyn 99) but what do you think? How would the riddlers be with a pet dog?

a/n: ohh a few of them would be so happy…some…not so much lmao, you’ll see

Content Warning: none really, I don't think lol

The Riddlers with a Pet Dog Headcanons

Arkhamverse Riddler: 

- No, nope, absolutely not!

- He hasn't the time or a means for a…filthy reckless dog!

- Edward can't waste time to train it or feed it or play with it (he barely feeds himself)

- He also doesn't want some mangy mutt messing with his tools or making a mess in his shop.

- That isn't to say he's never wanted to have one, ever…every little boy dreams of owning a pet, or especially a dog.

- But like many other things…Edward has just grown to be too good for certain things.

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler:

- I can see Edward easily getting overwhelmed…

- Even if the dog has a calming demeanor…just to have another living breathing thing in his vicinity (other than his rats, of course)

- Edward knows the bare minimum of taking care of a dog…but he's just unsure of the dog's personality at first. 

- If Ed isn't all in on his plan yet, with time and patience, he does become very grateful to have a loving and loyal companion. 

- The dog often protects Ed when they go out on walks and scares muggers away. 

- He doubted he would ever come to own a dog like most proper children do…but better late than never it seems. 

Gotham Riddler: 

- Most likely to adopt/gain his pet dog from picking him up off the street. 

- Not without some arguments from his inner self about how the last thing they need to worry about is a dog. 

- Ed does all the research. What type of breed it could be, mannerisms, how to care, what to feed them, etc. 

- Of course, he also teaches the dog all sorts of tricks--he's gotta be the smartest dog in Gotham. 

- (Definitely wants his dog to be smarter than Oswald's)

- (Also tries to refrain from naming the dog Oz)

- (If he does, he'll insist its for the the Wizard from the Wizard of Oz)

BTAS Riddler: 

- Much like Gotham Riddler, he'll definitely have fun training the dog and teaching it various tricks. 

- Also most likely to build obstacle courses for the pupper as well!

- Has debated entering his dog into dog shows (likely will if he wasn't…a wanted criminal)

- Ed loves his doggo and has always wondered what it would be like to have one. 

- He's probably one of the better dog dads out of all the Riddlers

- Definitely one of those people that dogs just love automatically (and no it's not just me showing favoritism shhh)

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler: 

- At first, he is likely against owning one..

- Eddie can't be bothered to take care of something that doesn't revolve around him or benefit him. 

- Plus, like Arkham Riddler, he just doesn't want to waste his time tending to a dog. 

- If he did have any, he would likely only train them as a means of protection or to use as a distraction. 

- Ed will do the most bare minimum of care for the dogs, again likely to just use them for some overall plan. 

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

- He's the dad that says he doesn’t want a dog, but becomes best friends with the dog. 

- Eddie will definitely train the dog to search and hunt for clues like a loyal basset hound. 

- He treats his dog much, much better than he does most people (which may not say a whole lot but…you know what I mean)

- One of those dog owners were the owner, and the dog started looking like each other and mimicking each other.

- He likely takes his dog with him everywhere, not just for the sake of clues but because he trusts no one else with them. 

Telltale Riddler: 

- Edward feels he's much too old to take care of a dog.

- However, I imagine he does have fond memories of owning dogs in his youth. 

- I can see him appreciating a dog's intelligence and loyalty to their owners. 

- His dogs were always the most well-behaved but also curious like their owner. 

- Every now and again, he does miss a couple of his dogs, especially in the rare moments he feels really lonely. 

- Edward is glad he was able to give them a decent life before he became…what he is now.

Young Justice Riddler: 

- Somewhat like Dano Riddler, he's a little overwhelmed. 

- But Eddie is also super ecstatic.

- Assuming this, Ed also had an abusive dad (or parents), he's living out a childhood dream finally having a dog. 

- Eddie doesn't let them out of his sight and definitely takes a ton of pictures. 

- He enjoys training and teaching the dog tricks like other Riddlers. Of course, his dog has to be brilliant! 

- Lives up to being a proud Dog Dad

Hush (DCAU) Riddler: 

- Didn't want a dog but became the dog's favorite 2.0

- Like Gotham, his dog is likely a stray that followed him home after walking back to his lair after a run-in with Batman. 

- Ed does take care of the stray, and a bond does surely develop. 

- The dog even sometimes comes up and tries to protect him from Batman, much to Batman and Edward's surprise. 

- When this happens, Eddie gives the doggo a big reward. 

- It just feels nice to have someone he can depend on and not judge him.

[mail-me-a-snail]

oc interview: ✨✨vance✨✨

thank you to @swearingcactus AND @glitchinginthegarden AND!! @v-eats-bugs for tagging me !! finally got to sit down and answer this :3

let's hit it !

🧡 Name?

"Just call me V."

his first chosen name was penn, but he started going by vance after his medical transition. he doesn't give it out freely bc that was the name arasaka knew him by; he doesn't mention his surname, either, bc it's a pretty prominent one with much of its members still working for the megacorp in question.

🧡 Nickname?

"...Well, last I checked, 's still V."

apart from "mano" from jackie, vance doesn't have much in terms of nicknames. his old netrunning handle was N3tH0und (net hound); it's a retired username that's been largely scrubbed from the net, but sometimes he signs his major hacks with it just to fuck with people. it's a ghost's name, and it's fun to haunt the net only when he knows for certain that it can't be traced back to him.

🧡 Gender?

"Guy! Never been asked that outright before."

🧡 Star sign?

"'s not my scene--can't say I know much about it--but Misty's got me down as a Cancer, whatever that means. Says that's probably why I'm, er, so 'intuitive', as she called it. You ask me, that's just the merc work--bein' able to read a room, that is."

i first drew vance on july 7, 2023, so i consider that his birthday. like vance, i have no idea how being a cancer applies to him, but google says cancers are loyal, domestically inclined, and committed to their loved ones, so that sounds about right!

🧡 Height?

"Six flat. Johnny's pretty sure I'm taller than 'im...but he's slouchin' all the time, so don't think he's got a say in it."

🧡 Orientation?

"Usually go for other guys. But I guess the definition of that is pretty loose these days, 'specially in NC, huh. The hell does it matter to me if you've got certain...parts. If you're a guy, you're a guy, and if you're down, I'm down, y'know?"

vance is a gay man with a preference for masculine-identifying individuals. like he said, if you identify as a "guy" in any form, then that's good enough for him. he's not one to talk about having "appropriate" parts, and he thinks it's dumb that they're gendered in the first place. he's not usually looking for anything serious and he's more than okay with just being an input and having one as well.

🧡 Nationality/ethnicity?

"Nay's Indian. Tay's Filipino. Ya ask anyone, I look more like my mom."

nanay and tatay are the filipino words for mother and father, respectively. vance has a very limited grasp of either language but he at least knows that much from his dad's mother tongue.

🧡 Favorite fruit?

"Oh, man, 's been a while--this one time when I was growin' up, think I was ten or eleven, 'Saka sent Dad a basket of 'ganic fruit. For his 50 years o' service, I think it was. Anyway, had my first apple then. What I wouldn't fuckin' give for one right now."

he likes fuji apples the best :3

🧡 Favorite season?

"Gotta be winter. I got to go a lot of places back in '65--Europe, mostly--an' most of them were snowy. Loved seein' my breath fog up. You don't get that here. You get hot rains and the pavement steamin'--guess it's pretty, in its way, with all the city's neon shinin' through the rain.

"But it ain't a real winter without snow."

🧡 Favorite flower?

"If ya hike it out to the Badlands in the summer, you'll find these little white flowers blooming on the cacti; Net says they're called Saguaro blooms. I like their...tenacity, I 'spose."

"But if I had to give ya a traditional answer...blue hydrangeas. Maya--she used to grow 'em in her apartment, still don't know how she did it--she gave me some blooms for my birthday back in '70. A welcome home kinda thing. Don't got her green thumb, so they died a week later...but they were real pretty. Somethin' to look forward to comin' home to."

🧡 Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

"Coffee--can't say it works for me, though."

he likes all three and refuses to drink his coffee black. he will put so much milk and creamer in that cup that it might as well be a dessert. johnny is disgusted (affectionate).

🧡 Average hours of sleep?

"...Hours, plural?"

vance is a champ at power naps and between the relic and an insomnia left over from his arasaka days, he doesn't get to bed much. if you do somehow get him into bed by morning, however, be prepared to not see him until near-evening the next day.

🧡 Dog or cat person?

note: those 10,000 photos are just the ones he has on his phone; do not look at the cloud where his kiroshi photos are stored.

🧡 Dream trip?

"...Was actually, erm, thinkin' of--well, when we get all this shit sorted out--I was thinkin'...might bring Johnny somewhere colder. Somewhere with snow. Said he hasn't seen snow before, so, I-unno, thought he might like it out there."

please take this time to imagine johnny in his android body nuzzled up to vance in the snow, red-faced and, for the first time in a long time, in awe. they're going to have hot chocolate later in some cabin vance rented out for the season--but right now, they're watching their shared breath cloud together in the air, simpatico even in this.

🧡 Favorite fictional character?

"Oh, oh--there's this real old holovid I used to loop when I was fifteen. 's fucked how they got most of it right. Anyhow, Rick Deckard. I used to think he was so damn cool."

deckard, with his big-collared jacket and general gruffness, was definitely one of vance's transition goals. that, and he watched br2049 right after--with how deckard was treating K, vance started projecting Really Fucking Heavily on K. like wow! you're a total killing machine with a father who just might love you. that's crazay man. could not be me

🧡 Number of blankets you sleep with?

"Run pretty warm as it is already, so just the one. Like the...texture of it, as it were. The weight o' it."

get this man a weighted blanket please god. i think it would fix him. alternatively, just lay on top of him and he'll be happy.

🧡 Random fact?

"I used to klep a lotta shit when I was a kid. Wires, chips, motherboards--mostly tech, really, from the vendin' machines and bus stops 'round the city. Sold 'em for a pretty eddie down in Heywood; got no buyers in the Hill, not when we could all afford the tech those Heywood kids were tryin' to kitbash together in the first place. Don't really know why I did it.

"To strike out, maybe? Maybe I liked the challenge. There's somethin' about makin' a machine give its own parts to you; get a vending machine to dispense its motherboard, a bus stop sign its LED, and ya feel like ya can make anythin' bend to your will."

--

thank you again for the tags!! this was a lot of fun to do :3

tagging @netripper , @knuckle-cluster, @matapang-coffee, and

@nakitengoku AND whoever else would like to do this! no pressure to do so ofc!!

if u ever dont want to be tagged in these kinds of posts, just lmk!

[ladyescapism]

fractured bonds - part 2

summary: Rhys' little sister has always been nothing but loyal to her brother and court. however, the cauldron chooses the most inconvenient male as her mate: Eris Vanserra. will Ryn accept the heir of autumn as her mate? will her family?

a/n: Here is part 2 of my Eris and Rhys' little sister (Ryn) fic. This chapter covers the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. There isn't any spice or real interaction between the two, yet anyways. my semester is coming to an end, so I will be able to write more, I hope.

part 1 -- part 3

warnings: none, I think

wc: 1,600

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Weeks. 

It had been weeks since she’d learned Eris was her mate. 

Sometimes hours would pass, and she would not think of him. But the slightest things would set off any memory Ryn had of Eris. 

She was reading a book after lunch, legs tucked beside her, side pressed against the arm of the sofa, when the book she was reading mentioned the “crisp autumn air” and she could no longer focus. It was a common occurrence these days. A fire would crackle, a dog would bark, or a child with red hair would run past her on the street. She was going to cut down the stupid red maple that was planted by her window soon. 

The High Lord’s meeting was all she could think of. Even after battling alongside Cassian in Adraita, she was preoccupied with seeing Eris. 

A war is upon us, she scolded to herself, and all you can think of is Eris of all people. 

He was her mate, she remembered. It was her instincts driving her to think of him, to want to be near him. It was the mate bond that had her dreaming of him. Dreaming of the night at the Court of Nightmares…

Cassian plopping down next to her, barely missing smashing her toes, and shook her out of her trance. He let out a long breath. 

“How have you been, kiddo?” 

Ryn looked into his warm brown eyes. She knew Cassian would listen to her. He was the one she talked to about crushes, friend drama, and he was the only one that knew how she felt about certain things in her life. Despite all that, he would not react well to her mating bond. 

“I’m about as well as I can be, I suppose.” 

“Adratia was tough.” 

“Understatement.” 

“We got through, though,” Cassian said to her. She swung her legs to the floor and repositioned so that Cassian could pull her smaller frame under his arm. “We always get through.” 

He leaned into him, savoring the warmth of him. 

“Has something been up with you lately,” he asked, chest rumbling as he spoke. “Ever since the Court of Nightmares, you’ve been acting weird.” 

“Just the stress of everything going on and about to go on, that’s all.” 

Cassian could always tell when she was lying. But he would have to see her face. He didn’t move to look at her, so he just hummed in response. 

So they laid there, like they had so many times over the years. It would be the last time they would have the time for a while. 

A dog was barking outside. Eris liked dogs, she remembered. He had mythical hounds that were incredible trackers, she heard. She liked dogs, though she had kept the company of more than a few cats over the years, never a dog. 

She let the safety and warmth of Cassian’s embrace lull her to sleep before he could ask any more questions that she could not answer. 

Gods damn, Ryn thought as she looked in the full-length mirror. I look good. 

The dark blue velvet hugged her hips, nipped her waist, and the built-in corseted top accentuated her breasts and lifted them, without showing too much either. Ryn was thankful for her figure. She had full breasts and hips, and a slender waist from training. Thankfully, she was fully supported, with sturdy straps helping keep everything together. The neckline of the dress offset her broad shoulders, an aspect of her physical appearance she didn’t love. 

She paired the dress with matching blue velvet gloves, and a coordinating set of dainty sapphire and diamond jewelry. The earrings were simple in order to give the diamond collar its proper shine. When she saw it in the market, she knew she just had to have it. 

“Ryn, today, please,” Rhys called up the stairs. 

Without dignifying him with a response, she scooped up her shoes and with one last check of her lipstick, she made her way downstairs. 

Everyone was waiting on her, it seemed. 

Mor was in black. Unusual for her, but her nails were still polished red. Nesta was stunning in blue, like herself. And Feyre. 

Feyre was in one of her mother’s dresses. 

She felt a pang of jealousy looking at Feyre in the glittering gown, looking like it was made to fit her. And the diadem across her head, coordinating to Rhys’. From the family collection. 

Ryn didn’t look at her brother as she passed him to sit on the sofa to fix her shoes. 

The conversation passed around her. She couldn’t hear the conversation over the roaring in her ears. A petty jealousy.

 The trousseau was always for Rhys’ wife, she tried to remind herself. Not having one of her mother’s pieces was a point of contention between her and Rhys for centuries. 

She heard Nesta say something, probably to Cassian. She lifted her head in time to catch him say, “Next time, I’ll come say hello, Emissary.” 

Azriel offered her a hand as she stood from the couch, and as she turned to face the rest of the group. 

“You look beautiful, Kathryn,” Azriel told her. 

She gave Azriel a light smack on the shoulder for the use of her full name. 

“Yes, Ryn,” Feyre added. “You look amazing! Is that one of your mother’s dresses?” 

“Thank you, Az, and Feyre,” she glanced at Rhys for a brief second. “No, it is not.” 

After winnowing arrangements were made, they all went to the Dawn Court. 

After a fun few minutes of ribbing Rhys for not having his homes as well decorated as Thesean’s, they all found their way into the meeting room. Mor ran off to talk with Vivienne, and she felt her bother come to her side. 

“Are you mad about the dress?” 

“No,” she said too quickly. 

“Ryn,” Rhys started. 

“No,” she cut him off, turning to look at him. “I’m not mad. It’s fine. She looks great. Let’s get through this meeting with all our heads and we can fight about this again later.” 

“So, you are mad,” Rhys affirmed. 

“It is not important Rhys,” she sighed. “They are just dresses.” 

Just as Rhys was about to argue with her more, Helion came over and distracted him. Ryn fell into her usual position in the court. A quiet observer. 

While Azriel was the spymaster, she was good at watching people. Az and Ryn had a deal on how to handle situations like this. Az was to watch the outside: find the servant lurking in an antechamber, listen to the footsteps in the hall, and spies by the windows. 

Her job was the people in the room. She watches for body language that suggests that they are nervous or lying. That they’re being just a little to cocky. Decern what is real and what is a show to fake her out. Analyze what people say, their word choices so she can tell if they are hiding a second meaning to trick her with later. Not only was this a useful skill in these situations, once she learned a person’s tells, she could bleed them dry at poker. 

Beron arrived with his family. With Eris. 

Ryn could feel the tension in her neck. Every nerve fired, driving her to look at him. Look at his handsome face. 

But she could not, would not, look at him. She willed herself to look at everyone who spoke. But not him. 

She was panting. She could feel her chest shift faster and faster. Partly from the torture of not letting herself look at Eris, but all of that went away as she heard Rhys explain his time under the mountain again. She heard in the foyer. But seeing her bother, her strong, stubborn, proud big brother be forced to tell this story to win allies nearly killed her. 

Eris was a second thought as Beron began to insult Rhys. 

Blue eyes finally met brown. 

For one second, just for him, she let the tears well, let the emotion through.

“Father,” Eris said snapped softly, never daring to scold his own father. 

Beron huffed but shut up. 

Ryn was failing at her job. She could hear when people spoke, but it was as if she were underwater. She turned her attention to the people that spoke, not letting anyone guess at her despondence. 

The blur of a leather-cased body caught her attention as Azriel lunged across the table at Eris. 

Ryn felt her body rise it her seat. Who she would defend, she did not know. Would she stop Azriel, her brother in many ways for centuries to save the callous, cruel male who had just called her cousin a slut? 

She felt the bile rising in her throat. She fact that she no longer knew who she would defend in an instance was incomprehensible. 

The only steading force was Cassian’s hand on her elbow, bringing her back to her seat. And the only thing that took her attention form Azriel trying to strangle Eris was Feyre’s glittering form oh so perfectlydeescalating the situation. 

She no longer reacted to anything. Not the insults being spewed, not Feyre attacking Beron. She was in a trance. 

Ryn questioned everything. Her loyalty to her family, her morals, right done to the very core of her being. How could she be mated to Eris? If he was her equal, then she must be just as bad as him, right? 

She silently followed Rhys and Feyre back to their rooms, ignoring Cassian’s concerned glances her way. She politely greeted Helion, but remined silent. She let Feyre insult and berate him for not defending the Lady of Autumn. She could care less in that moment if she screwed up any alliances. 

Azriel was as quite as ever, watching Helion and Mor get close. She didn’t ask after her cousin when she left with the High Lord. And it wasn’t the sounds of them fucking that kept her up all night. 

Ryn laid awake that night and questioned everything. 

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Tag list:

All works:

@feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @marina468 @singhillada

Fractured bonds:

@a-mexican-waffle @cafe-inaaa @feiwelinchen @theviewfromtheotherside

[whinlatter]

i MUST hear your thoughts on "im your man" by mitski and how it's the ginny/harry/sirius trio anthem in "beasts"...must hear

what have you done asking me about this...... a great and terrible mistake........ the air is thick with sirens...........

basically i'm your man is an absolutely perfect song about feeling unworthy and undeserving of the love someone gives you, and a feeling of great dread that one day the other person will realise it and leave. it is - for this reason - so eye-wateringly ginny-sirius-harry coded i simply cannot bear it. that whole album (the land is inhospitable and so are we) is heaven and there are so many songs on it that have been absolutely dynamite for getting the juices flowing with this fic (the frost and star are my hinny anthems for chapter 12  👀)

so i am taking a short dissertation writing break to offer an entirely unhinged rant about i'm your man complete with some mild beasts spoilers because apparently i care a lot about this inexplicably. thank you so much for humouring me!

you're an angel, i'm a dog or you're a dog and i'm your man you believe me like a god i'll destroy you like i am

the first verse plays with the idea that there are three tiers of being - dog, man, angel/god - that all exist in relation to each other. the narrator sings the song to put themselves down. you're an angel, i'm a dog - meaning, i'm lowly nothing compared to your pure divine greatness. in the next line, a twist and advance on that idea: you're a dog (faithful, honest, loyal, loving easily and with such trust) and i'm your man (the one who is responsible for you, who you look to protect and sustain you, who is unworthy of that kind of adoration). you believe me like a god - you trust and believe in my power and ability to take care of you and guide you. but then: i'll destroy you like i am - the only real godlike power the narrator identifies with is the capacity for destruction and ruin.

ok partly it's... you know....... the dog thing because i am very on-the-nose. (obviously sirius as padfoot, but also the distinctions in the wizarding world between beings as the moral civilised entities vs the beasts, the wild and lawless and violent magical creatures). but it's also this suggestion of hero worship and adoration from one character to another, and the object of that kind of love struggling to feel worthy of it and fearing the power it has given them over the other person. it's such a huge vibe for how i'm thinking about these characters !! i feel like it works both for harry and sirius' relationship as well as harry and ginny's: the love and reverence harry has for sirius, when sirius is filled with so much self-loathing and guilt and awareness of his own failings as a parent figure, and the way harry comes to love ginny and think of her as this pure singular light and symbol of all his hopes for a bright and good future, which (i think!) would be a lot for ginny to take on and live up to and feel deserving of. there's even shades of it in how i imagine ginny feels about sirius in the flashbacks - little ginny looking up to sirius like he's a god, hanging off his every word, sirius backing away from being responsible for this child's admiration and desire for guidance from him.

i'm sorry i'm the one you love no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me, i should die i deserve it, don't i

i mean this is a pure sirius verse imo also with such harry shades to it ('i deserve it don't i' pure ootp harry angst). but i see some of ginny in this too ('i'm sorry i'm the one you love' - her wish that she could just be such cool and chill and easy and trying to live up to this idea harry sometimes as of her as so strong and stoic and able to deal with things, and then her feelings when all that comes crumbling down....)

i can feel it getting near like flashlights coming down the way one day you'll figure me out i'll meet judgment by the hounds

the feeling of being hunted! sirius and harry as wanted men! ginny getting found out and caught in her secrets and half-lies! 'i'll meet judgement by the hounds' god. god

people always gave me love others were never to blame after all you believe me like a god i'll betray you like a man

i think of this verse as the sirius and ginny verse. here the narrator locates the source of their unworthiness internally, not in being deprived of love by others, but in something fundamentally broken and tainted inside them. sirius as a character can't blame a total absence of love for what he's become - he was loved, he blames no-one but himself for the loathing he feels for himself. ginny, too, could not have been more loved, both before the TMR ordeal, but also thereafter - she comes from a family that adores her, she is widely liked and admired; but still, there's something missing in her sense of self. i do not wish to spoil future chapters but yeah this is bit is a Big Mood as we come closer to understanding ginny's war and what it asked of her

in chapters 10 and 11 of beasts, i started to play with this idea of the traitor, of a person who has made a great and terrible choice to betray the people close to them and in doing so revealed a true self that was there all along but lay dormant. so far in the fic, i've tried to thread in a lil drip-drip-drip of questions about the self, who a person really ever is, and about the choices characters make because of their sense of who they are, especially moral choices, in a war and under a regime that must, ethically, be resisted.

of sirius, harry, and ginny, so far it's sirius who knows most about what it is to be a traitor: someone who spent the bulk of his life assumed to be a turncoat, who is consumed by his hatred of wormtail and the memory of his treachery, who can't even begin to grasp the layers and dimensions to his own brother's betrayal, and who fundamentally still thinks of himself as a traitor to his best mate, believing himself to having 'as good as' killed lily and james. harry is the one who's full of trust, throughout the war:

'“No,” Harry said out loud, and they all looked at him, surprised. The firewhisky seemed to have amplified his voice. “I mean . . . if somebody made a mistake,” Harry went on, “and let something slip, I know they didn’t mean to do it. It’s not their fault,” he repeated, again a little louder than he would usually have spoken. “We’ve got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don’t think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."'

“No, I think you’re like James,” said Lupin, “who would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends.” Harry knew what Lupin was getting at: that his father had been betrayed by his friend, Peter Pettigrew. He felt irrationally angry. He wanted to argue, but Lupin had turned away from him...'

ginny, of course, knows what it is to be betrayed - by her first real friend, by her own brother. but i just think these two final lines, the twist on the first verse, are such a huge huge mood for drawing some of these ideas to the surface as the plot inches (v slowly lol) forwards - the idea of a character who has had every faith put in them by someone who loves and believes in them, who fears that they wll buckle under the weight of it and betray that love and trust in terrible ways. to betray you like a man - for the great moral sin to be something inherent to no other creature or being but man - is just such a powerful cool as shit line that is really gettin me going for writing the next bit of this fic.

wow i didn't even know how much i cared about this song but turns out it's a lot???? troubling for me!

[lingering-42-long]

i love seeing cod furries!!!!!!! 🫶🐺✨️

So do I!!!! And just for you I made this post based off of what I think each of the COD characters fursonas would be. Let me know if I should do more characters!

And now to our list:

Price : Bear

 I can totally 100% see Price as a bear. A lot of people think bears are fat and lazy, but in reality there are a whole bunch of muscle that can haul ass and put you on the censorship. Grizzly bears are definitely aggressive and very protective especially the females over their cubs. While Price is no Female, he definitely takes great consideration on looking over his team. For this I dub him the bear.

Gaz : Chocolate Labrador Retriever

Gaz is loyal, strong, sweet, and always ready for when Duty calls! Like a Labrador retriever, they are always eager to please, very friendly, and hard-working. Chocolate labs are known for being incredibly family and friend oriented and this really fit his personality. 

Johnny “Soap”: Scottish Red Deer

This was surprisingly hard because I had three options I wanted to go with a rough collie, a jack Russell terrier, or a Scottish red deer. The Scottish red deer one. Deer may seem skittish on the outside but in reality they’re actually very fast, very skilled at dealing with tough situations, and very quick on their feet. I feel like his personality match that of a red deer because of not only a Scottish red deer being from his natural homeland, but they’re also incredibly rugged creatures and very strong. When push comes to shove, you do not want to be in their way when there is a male that is willing to protect his herd. I feel like soap is kind of like that. Once again, very protective of his team, loves the outdoors, and can be very obnoxious to those who don’t see his enthusiasm the same way *cough* Ghost *cough*.

Simon “Ghost” Riley: Skull dog

This was actually easy. Skull dogs, also known as Scullys, are highly misunderstood creatures. While they may appear aggressive and terrifying on the outside, this is usually a way to deter creatures from befriending them. They prefer the silence of their own selves over a large group. With that being said, they are very possessive and aggressive over their personal belongings, and yes that can include a group. Ghost represents this very well. Maybe at one point in life he was a normal dog, but through the pain and torture that he went through he changed into a Skully after suffering with so much.

König: German Shepard

Another obvious choice, but this one was actually surprisingly hard. I wanted to give him a dog that was also a little misunderstood, like he is, as well as a dog that had a great sense of personality and charm, that also made it lovable in a slightly aggressive way. I think the German Shepherd is a good fit for him. They are loyal, strong, built for the military life, and can make a great family dog with proper care. König is the same. Misunderstood as a aggressive creature, only to be believed to be good for clearing out a room, all he wants is to have A happy and fulfilled life.

Horangi: Tiger

Like his name states, he is a tiger. He’s earned his stripes in battle, and he isn’t afraid to fight. He has a sense of purpose now in his life after making bad decisions in his youth. A tiger is a great fit for him. Strong, agile, and bold hunters, a tiger learns from their mistakes in order to become a better hunter.

Phillip Graves: Treeing Walker

Coonhound

Coonhounds is a short word for a large category of dogs that specialize in hunting raccoons, a type of critter that likes to live in trees. They can also be used to hunt foxes or any other small game. Philip matches the hound, not only because the hound was created in the United States, but also because they are incredibly loyal and will obey any order without question. Philip may have been the bad guy in the story line but that doesn’t mean that he was the bad guy at heart. Back at home he was seen as the good ol’ boy and poster child for every want to be military kid.

Alejandro and Rudy: Xoloitzcuintle

Bold and fearless the Xolo was the dog used by the ancient Mayans to protect and be used as guard dogs. Highly sacred and prized for their strength,  these dogs served their masters well as well as becoming active family pets. Alejandro and Rudy our a perfect example of this amazing Mexican breed. determined and loyal mix in with the fierceness, they protect the people of their small town from Valeria and her goons.

Valeria: Coyote

When I think of a force to be reckoned with, I do think of a coyote. They are smart, cunning and very dangerous. Always working together in large packs with one being the bait, leading and drawing in their victims until the rest of the pack members around, and slowly kill the unsuspecting target. They are able to survive in any climates and are incredibly resourceful in almost every terrain. They are a pest that so many farmers and cityfolk alike hate. Valeria Fits as a coyote for her ability to evade Alejandro and his team as well as always seeming to do the worst amount of damage in the quickest amount of time without losing her low profile. like a coyote, she is skilled in handling herself in any area, always keeping minimum contact and yet seeming to make the biggest impact without revealing anything. She keeps her cards close and she knows the game well.

Kate Laswell: Rough Collie

no creature is a better guard dog than a rough collie! They are very good at keeping an eye on a large flock and are always making sure that nothing happens to them under their watchful eye. Just like a collie, Kate has dedicated her life to being the eye for the team. She’s also very good at giving information out and resourceful. 

General Shepherd: American Eagle

When most people hear the American eagle they think of freedom they think of power they think of strength and they think of United States of America. What a lot of people don’t realize is eagles are pretty mean and have been known to steal and harass other eagles. I feel like general Shepard matches this perfectly because of his title and position in charge but in reality he’s just a shady bird that had worked his way up through the cracks and crevices of a broken system and he knows it too.

[icey--stars]

Ghost Hounds (Headcanons)

Headcanons, names, personalities and histories of Eris's ghost hounds and loyal companions.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Day 4 of @erisweek2023 (Hounds / Autumn Equinox)

a/n: okay. so. i have some very interesting headcanons for eris’s hounds, so here you go. I got bored one day (while preparing Born for Tragedy) and decided “hey! let’s write some history for Eris’s dogs!” also i apologize, i was a bit scatterbrained in this lol

WARNINGS: lightly mentioned domestic abuse (beron. again.) Down towards the bottom, it mentions the loss of a pet. If you wish to skip this, stop reading after Rue (dog name)

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Okay, so we all know Eris has 12 ghost hounds. I literally have HCs for all of them. Some more than others so let's go through them, shall we?

Eris’s first ghost hound was a birthday gift from his mother. A little puppy appeared at his door miraculously that day and his mother was extremely happy when the boy came in cuddling it in his arms asking if he could keep it. (She told him she got it for him after saying yes)

The puppy was named Percy (recommendation from LOA) and Eris fucking loved that dog. Spoiled the little shit. Percy is BY FAR one of his most loyal dogs.

Percy’s training wasn’t as straightforward as the others’ were, but Percy is also extremely, extremely intelligent and loved Eris to death so he did his best :)

When Percy first witnessed Beron yelling at Eris, he snarled and leaped in front of the boy. The hound got a whipping for it (and still has those scars…) but since then, Eris has loved the dog like none other just as the dog has done for him.

Eris also began hating his father after he hit his doggo because who wouldn’t?? Don’t hit my puppy sir. You will pay for it. Dearly.

Now, when Eris gets a new puppy, Percy is always the one to train them in the basics of being a good puppy. Like potty training, no biting, and KISSES because Percy knows his owner loves them :)

Eris of course takes on the brunt of the training for them all and likes to train them in hunting, tracking and sometimes, for the stronger ones, attacking. Naturally, however, they all learned to defend him (ex. standing in front of him or distracting someone attacking him).

Now, Eris is pretty… well, not liked in the ACOTAR world. We can agree on that. So, when Eris is out and about in the Autumn Court, he often has his doggos with him. If he’s away- the pups get so nervous for him. They just love him so much!

Now, Eris’s next dogs are two females in a litter that he bought himself: Vixen (named for her personality) and Selena (named after a female Eris liked for a while).

Vixen is the equivalent of “I will only listen to one person” and Selena is just happy to be there. Vixen was the first to be trained in “attacking” (also known as Schutzhund for my dog nerds out there) and she was really good at it. She could take down a full-grown fae easily.

A little HC I have about the ghost hounds is that because of their fae blood, some of them can winnow. Vixen is one of the ones who can winnow- but she can’t go very far. (maybe like 15 feet)

Eris was still terrified and overjoyed when he learned of this power though and instantly was trying to strengthen it so that she could use it for every advantage it held.

Selena is a good girl and is very happy. If Eris is sad, she’s coming over there with a big goofy grin and then licking his face and pinning him down like a puppy that won’t sit still while being cleaned. In her mind, Eris is both her owner and her puppy she has to take care of.

The next dog Eris gets is once again bought for himself, but instead of a litter, it was an adult male. Now, this male has already been through a lot. His name was Cadoc and he used to have a mate. The reason his owner was selling him was because his mate died of an incurable sickness. 

In my mind, ghost hounds are very like fae. They can winnow, and they are extremely intelligent, just like doggos in real life! But, they also have lovers in the same way. Mates. 

So, when Eris did get Cadoc, he was a very sad pupper. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t get up, wouldn’t even drink. Eris took to taking care of him very gently. Bringing him his food (more on this in a minute) and water and even hand-feeding him when Cadoc wouldn’t even raise his head. And yes, sometimes it did get down to force feeding, but Eris would not give up on Cadoc. He knew the hound had more to him. He was more than just a breeding stud- he could be amazing!

Briefly, let’s also just mention that Eris feeds his dogs very well. Raw diet with a variety of meat, and other healthy things. (so, envision that really expensive raw dog feedings that we see on social media named the BARF diet for doggos)

Cadoc was still suffering however. Eris did his best, but after a year, there seemed to be no hope.

Unknown to Eris, however, Vixen, his spunky little female who listened to nobody, seemed to take pity on the sad male. She growled and forced him to his feet when Eris arrived and then practically dragged him outside to come on a walk.

Eris found it very endearing, to be honest. Vixen wouldn’t give up on Cadoc either.

Cadoc eventually began to stand on his own in greeting, if even just to avoid a nip from Vixen when she urged him to his feet. He began to trot outside and smell things.

Eris began to train him as well and he took to schutzhund training very easily. The male was bulkier than Percy and was perfect for taking down either fae or deer. Cadoc’s condition began to look up steadily.

His personality began to come out. He was very protective and obedient. He liked to please and he was kind of like the equivalent of a big, gentle giant.

Vixen and Cadoc also grew a lot closer. Because they were trained in similar things, they hung out a lot.

Now- I want you all to imagine a tragic, romantic scene between Vixen and Cadoc and then- yeah. Basically, they become mates. Spunky female and gentle giant.

Cadoc is one of Eris’s most loyal doggos (right behind Percy).

The next puppers aren’t bought by Eris, however. Mama Vanserra has been keeping an eye on Eris and his pups and has the perfect gift in store.

It’s three littermates. Three ghost hound puppies. Nimbus (male), Sorrel (female) and Soot (male). Eris could barely contain his excitement at the gift tho. Like literally, he was close to squealing. He for SURE was catering to his mother’s every need for at least a month. Checking up on her, offering her tea, getting her lunch personally from the kitchens- all little ways to show his appreciation.

Now. Sorrel and Soot are the troublemakers, first off. Nimbus is a little quieter, but he’s one of the strongest ones.

Sorrel is by far one of the fastest ghost hounds Eris owns. Absolutely blazing speed. If only there were enough ghost hounds to race them, huh? Eris tries to find one and manages to get one little competition, but literally, it's just three dogs and obviously, Sorrel wins. The ghost hounds are much too fast to race against like greyhounds or something. And not many have them in the Autumn Court- most have hunting dogs for their good noses.

Nimbus is Eris’s sweet little boy who’s one of the best at cuddling. (though, Selena does come close). The pup just sneaks into his bed in the middle of the night, undetected, and Eris wakes up with an armful of ghost hound. (he loves it)

Soot is forever the troublemaker (equal with Rue, who we will talk about later)

He gets into the food, the chicken coops, the farms, the sheets, the kitchens– all of it. He is a chaotic pup and while Eris can try to tame that troublemaker spirit, he will never break it. Soot is one of his worst in obedience for that reason. But, Eris still loves him of course. How can he not with those adorable almond-colored eyes?!

The next pup actually, is not bought, nor gifted. Vixen was found with a more swollen-than-usual belly and exhausted in her kennel one day (when she didn’t arrive to greet Eris like usual) and Cadoc right beside her, licking her ears.

Eris at first panicked, of course, and thought that Vixen was sick and dying of some horrible thing. A vet reassured him that she was in fact not sick, just tired, needed more food and rest, and that she was pregnant.

After that, he’s honestly even more panicked. He knew this was a possibility, but he’d expected it later! When he’d done his research already!

As soon as possible, he reads every book ever on ghost hounds, pregnancies with dogs and everything related. He even managed to request some books from Day Court’s libraries temporarily.

After he’d done his research, he was still anxious, but less so. He knew what was going on now and what would happen once the pup(s) were born. And what he needed to do to support his pupper.

The pup is born without any issues at all. And Cadoc and Vixen turn out as wonderful parents.

The one pup is a male that Eris names Ash.

Ash has adorable quirks to him. He always barks when Eris comes in and rolls over onto his back once Eris does start petting him and is especially playful with the other dogs. (after all, they were like aunts and uncles to him!)

The next two dogs aren’t related, but I’m grouping them together because I don’t have too many headcanons for them actually:

The next pup is Taunya (female), bought by Eris. She kind of has that “mother” personality. As a pup, she always was licking the other dogs and when she grew up, she often was found urging them toward their food, or resting with them when they were tired.

Nimbus takes a fascination to Taunya specifically (and let’s not get on about some age gap thing. Just look at feysand or nessian, alright?). And yes, they do become mates. Nimbus is extremely protective over Taunya and Eris always laughs when he seems to panic as she goes to cuddle with some other dog as if he’s thinking “you are so darn hard to protect woman! goodness! quit cuddling with the threats! gods!”

Taunya doesn’t change though, of course. She’s always gonna be the sweet one.

The next pup is a male called Pyro, also bought as a pup by Eris who is just loving the fact his ghost hound obsession is growing and Beron doesn’t seem to mind. I mean, honestly, they’re quite helpful. They come with him to the military and are perfectly behaved, they help him win hunting competitions… all of it.

Pyro is named for his more amber-colored eyes. 

This pup has the farthest ability to winnow out of any of the ghost hounds. He’s quite powerful, to be honest. When Eris fully tests it, Pyro is able to winnow from the Winter Court border to the Forest House with ease. Even from the Summer Court border! 

Eris doesn’t dare take his dog outside of the Autumn Court except for missions though. He doesn’t want to risk any rumors or threats or harm to his pups.

The next dog has a bit of story. This dog’s name is Rue. A chaotic, insane little pup.

Rue was gifted to Eris by Hue, his brother. Hue actually wanted Rue’s name to be “Hue,” but Eris was not going to allow it and simply settled for something that rhymed. It’s not like it was that bad of a name either. Just confusing when both his brother and dog responded to his call.

Rue is a troublemaker like Soot. However, he’s a bit better at paying attention than Soot and better at sitting and staying. Soot has no self control compared to him.

Rue loves to hunt. Whenever Eris pulls up on his horse with a bow around his shoulders, Rue is up and at ‘em and ready to sprint through the forests to his heart’s content. Even if he’s not as big and strong as Cadoc or as fast as Sorrel, he’s perfectly happy just being there. He’s so enthused when he gets the order to track an animal or catch a rabbit- just so happy.

But, to be completely honest: Rue is the most lazy of the dogs. He groans as he gets up to greet Eris and then proceeds to lay right back down to take a nap. Absolutely loves to nap in the sun.

Eris did have another dog between Jack (later) and Rue. He used to have a dog named Adria. A female who was the best tracking dog that he ever did have.

She was the pup to grow up with Lucien.

However, on that fateful day that Lucien had to run to the Spring Court, Adria followed. Unluckily, she caught an arrow to her chest and died.

She loved to chase deer out of anything, just bounding through the forests.

Eris still misses her (as does Lucien. He didn’t expect the pup to follow him)

The last dog is another pup of Vixen and Cadoc. Eris’s last ghost hound. Jack.

Jack is like Cadoc but not ever having been sad. He’s a happy pup who’s always wagging his tail and barking excitedly at anything and everything. Almost similar to Percy as well.

He was raised before Adria died.

Adria was actually still quite young when Jack was born so they were the best playmates. Even after the female’s death, he was still happy as can be. Eris does see him staring off into the woods she ran off into every once in a while though.

Eris never got another dog after Adria’s death. It hit him so hard. Like a blow to the chest, he just couldn’t do it anymore. So, afterwards, he took to putting most of his energy into the dogs that he already had. He spoiled them rotten after he found Adria’s body on the border that day. He’d care for any future pups that arrive but never buy another dog.

Adria’s grave sits outside of the heated cabin that houses the dog’s kennels. (anyway, im sobbing now, im sorry for that)

List of the Hounds in Order: Percy, Vixen & Selena, Cadoc, Nimbus & Sorrel & Soot, Ash (V+C), Taunya, Pyro, Rue, Adria 💀, Jack (V+C)

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Btw, feel free to ask more questions about the headcanons <3

TAGLIST HERE! - see post for specifics <3

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters, @thegirlintheshadows101

(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Eris Week or would like to!!)

[ran-orimoto]

[ Look, you have to thank @ teclajellymon if today I have remembered to post this here, because, like always, I forgot to do it yesterday at the same Ao3 publishing time and I would have probably forgotten about it forever.

Ehm, *cough*. Today I’m offering you another future Junzumi headcanon of mine in the shape of a very stupid, silly story. The essence of the matter is that I have given them a saluki hound, ok, or better, I have given Izumi a saluki hound who will eventually becomes Junpei’s as well, to his utter joy, I guess ahahah.

Why a saluki hound? Simply because they look like Izumi, I wanted an active, sportive dog for her and, most of all, they are called the singing hounds of the wind. Honestly, my first choice had been an afghan, because her appearance would have clashed even more with Junpei’s and they are the most stylish dogs I have ever seen, no lie about this ahahha. I’ve eventually found a good compromise, though, indeed, the perfect Junzumi dog because of that definition of theirs 🤣💕.

Context: We can place this story after the seamstress one, in spring. Izumi has moved in, has started her life in Venice along with Junpei, but she left a little… Furry problem behind in Japan. ]

• Liù •

People rarely claimed a man and their beloved partner were supposed to look similar, if not identical, -hell, it would have been such a scary world, if that had been true-, whereas when it came to men and their dogs, well, it was just a different story. He had heard and, recently, he had also started seeing all sorts of things, everywhere, and they wouldn’t disappear like mirages in the mist after obstinate rubs given to the lens of his sunglasses.

Therefore, he had started doing the opposite, embracing that irreparably odd reality with open arms and…And quickly regretting his choice.

Staring for too long, with too much instensity, too much curiousity . It wasn’t that ideal when it came to middle-aged women minding passers by’s business, drawn by the beauty of their dog, which, though, -better to highlight it not twice but three times!-, would never be as charming as their own-.

That was objectively a bit of a stretch , in his opinion, because that Swiffer broom obediently sitting by her side wasn’t minimally comparable to his principessa . His …No, she was Izumi’s, what he was saying? It had just been a present from him and he hadn’t even been that fully convinced about her peculiar pick back then.

Whatever, in Piazza San Marco the reciprocal introduction of two furry friends, the proud echoes of refined names soon got replaced by very sharp noises. He should have glued his orbs onto the regal four-legged figure next to him, instead of focusing on the stranger’s long silhouette, on how it extraordinarily matched her pet’s.

The pidgeons peacefully pecking at crumbs of bread thrown by some tourist immediately took flight at the sound of wood colliding with resistant coconut husk. He couldn’t really blame her, but he wished she hadn’t decided to use the handle of her umbrella to punish his naive irreverence. And then , icing on the cake, a chorus of annoying yapping and more powerful, -modestly speaking- barks predictably joined the commotion, offering a musical base to a vivacious and incomprehensible ritual of curses.

This is so lovely, He had shaken his head in pain, This is so, so, so, lovely, And it really was, taken in account he hadn’t told Izumi about what he had been up to during that week off yet.

He was aware she had been too busy with her new restaurant adventure to be interested in discovering about that, about his new favourite game in which he was no one but a gentleman strolling through the streets of Venice, along with his elegant dog he didn’t share any resemblance with.

Now that he thought about it, though, every respectable detective owned a loyal companion scampering after them. Perhaps, she would look like him if he made her wear a baggy yellow raincoat.

__________________________________________

“I swear, you should have seen her. She had this enormous bob hardly covering her ears and it was so bloated, like a cloud. I don’t know why, but I think she might be a high school professor, even if she was speaking in a heavy dialect. I mean, a high school professor wouldn’t speak dialect like that. Especially in that way. But ok, this isn’t the point. She-“

He unwillingly arrested that blabbing of his only when Izumi placed a hand on his forehead.

“This is where it hurts?” She asked with a worried frown, her green eyes squeezed as the tips of her fingers touched the reddened spot.

“Yeah. And it hurts so much I could pass out, eh eh,” He had never been that skilled at hiding the pleasant and soothing effect any physical contact with her would provoke in every fiber of his being. Thus, his impetuous voice calmed down completely, the waves of chocolate in his eyes turned into a quiet swinging tide, his entire body abandoned itself to the miracle of her beauty…Until the gentle, impalpable wind started throwing sharp knives against him.

“Ouch!” He whined, taking some steps backwards and opening his mouth at that sudden change of mood. It had been so unpredictable and now seemed to be mirroring the shifting sky darkening outside. Her nails were so long and neatly-trimmed, so sleek, utterly perfect from the perspective of a lucky man who could hold those soft hands and observe them in bliss. However, they could also transform into the claws of an angry feline, a feral lynx and hurt without needing her to put that much effort. “What was that for?”

“ Ma io dico,” She hissed at him, her index and its minuscule weapon still raised in the air, near to the scratch they had just teased. They both were there, resting on the thumb that had helped them gain momentum. “What were you thinking…?! I have left you alone for a week, just a single week…!”

His lips protruded in a startled perplexity, he blinked twice before her scolding expression, not sure if he would find a point in coming up with a lie. Actually, there would never be one in her presence. Any attempt to hide something from her through the art of deception would get a vain result, would be an occasion to turn into a clown. It was fine to him, though, because he didn’t like the idea of telling her a fib.

“I was looking at her dachsund,” He explained with a pure externalization of sincerity and now her turn to goggle like he had before, but with even more confusion, arrived.

“At her…Dachsund?”

“Yes, her fur was all black just like her hair and she also had a very long mouth like her face. So, I was actually looking at both the dog and the woman, but I lingered on the latter for too long because, oh boy, I couldn’t believe it,” The more he talked the more it sounded like he was chatting with himself in a comical monologue, occasionally glueing his pupils to the wall of the kitchen or, -more fitting for the core of his spirit-, to a dish full of biscuits awaiting him on a drawer. He was so certain they were doing so, at least.

“Oh,” Izumi would have liked to fade at the sight of him approaching the furniture.

“And I’m still holding onto my theory it is nothing else but some weird urban legend that got way too much attention through centuries,” Only the contours of those patient delicacies finally took him to Earth and reminded him of his interlocutor. Still, Izumi understood she would be the one having to push him even more downwards, to the firm ground.

“It’s not not still clear what we are exactly talking about, but what I am sure about is that I would rather have a boyfriend singing,” She managed to pull the dish away from his reach in time. “Than one barking,” And then she put it on the floor, to his puzzlement, bewilderment, utter bafflement.

“I have risked eating dog biscuits…” The realization hit home in a jiffy like a boulder fallen on him. His gaze got lost in a world where the kitchen had melted in a general nothingness. “Izumi, I have risked eating dog biscuits!” After an instant of shock, he brought himself to repeat that by adding his usual bizarre emphasis.

“Yes, you have,” She bursted in a breeze of giggles washing over his concerned expression but surpassing it, ignored. Their gusts failed at stealing his voice and chuckles through that powerful tenor register of his. “You wouldn’t have died, don’t worry. I’ve cooked them.”

“Eh…?” Joining her on the floor, he allowed his exaggerated worry to get replaced by a mixture of skepticism and soft surprise. “You can cook dog food too? You’re-“

“Don’t say that, please!” She promptly raised a palm in front of his nose, haughtily averting her gaze on purpose to make him roast on the grill. When she was sure her steak was ready, she winked at his slightly disappointed grimace. “Or better, don’t say it yet . This is my first attempt and I don’t know if she will like it. I’ve added some slices of strawberries here and there in the mixture because she adores them. Hm…” He instantly shrieked when Izumi reached out to put one of those biscuits in her mouth. Got so close to passing out when she picked another one and offered it to him, seriously proposing him to jump into her absurd sommelier experience. “Here. Taste it and tell me what you think. Is it wet or dry, in your opinion?”

“I-Izumi…! Don’t eat that stuff, c’mon,” He slipped on his backside far from her, near to biting his nails. If he had been a cat, his fur would have been rippled from his head to the tip of his tail. Observing that scene through a more enterntained filter, he had to admit their interactions were really reminding him of the ones of a cat and a dog: weirdly, he was being the most reluctant, if not the most repulsed between them, whereas Izumi was the joyful dog…Doing certain kind of stuff without a care in the world.

“Aren’t you the one always telling people, My girlfriend is the most brilliant cook in the world. I would eat anything prepared by her: even, - guess,what-, dog food ?”

“I-I,” He didn’t know if he was stuttering because of her impeccable imitation of his gestures and tone or because it wasn’t her spinning fantasy that was speaking. Yes, he had, he seriously had: naively believing they would never turn up against him, he had pronounced those exact words in his confessions of endless love for her cooking. He had so many times, thousand and more. “Okay…I guess you won. There’s nothing I can do,” He sighed in defeat and extended his arm to her complacent smirk and the snack she was swinging back and forth. Next time he would have to be more careful about his hyperbolic compliments in her regards, -hyperbolic ones to the rest of the world but absolutely realistic to him-. “And after this”, He gave an uncertain glance at her before grabbing it. “Can I be the one calling her after this?”

“Hm, why not ? You two need to bond and I need to bond more with her too, after having…Abandoned her at Mamma’s and Papà’s for months…” He knew she was still coping with persuading herself that had been the best choice she could ever do for her sake. He had tried reassuring her Liù would have suffered from a more drastic detachment from her usual life, if she had moved in at the same time Izumi had. She would have had lot of trouble adjusting without them around, spending her days alone in an unknown apartment while Izumi was too absorbed in finding her own place in the world of Venice, and he was drowning in rehearsals. It would have been kinda egoistical from their part, so Izumi’s parents had convinced her to leave Liù with them for a while, until they were ready to give her the house and family she really deserved. Now Izumi might be busy with the first weeks of her newborn restaurant, but she wasn’t fretting and rushing any more and could count on Junpei’s support, on the fact he was just at the beginning of another of his adventures at la Fenice theatre.

“Hey,” He chirped a bit too abruptly but with the sweetest intention to cheer her mood up, unnoticed. “Can I do it, now? Like, now, now, now?”

“What are you talking about?” She giggled as he got so close she risked to fall backwards.

“Can I call her now?”

“Oh, that ,” Her precarious pose propped up on an elbow, she pretended to be wanting to slither away from his grip. “Okay, but you need to follow my instructions,” She sneezed at some locks falling on her forehead as he brought her closer with an effortless pulling of his biceps.

“I don’t need those, Izumi. I have got my own method,” Once ensured she was safely sitting upright, he grinned at her sending a shivering hunch down her spine. “Look. No, listen, listen.”

“Junpei, I’m not…” She petrified with her hand opening and closing in the tense silence he created. She was blatantly aware about what was about to happen, but she found herself stuck before the view of a familiar routine of actions, with the expection of that scary ending phase in which he sent his hands next to the corners of his mouth, well splayed.

Oh no…

“Jun-!”

“Liù? Liù?” Junpei improvised a silly melody she thanked Heavens it wasn’t being chanted in his usual rumbling projection.

“Junpei…!”

“Liù, don’t you want your pappa? Liù ? Where is the bimba? The sweetest bimba ? Liù-Chan?”

His grin didn’t vanish under the might of her irritation. He only hopped on the spot, all of a sudden, having got startled by the glasses of the window being shaken by the howling mistral. To think it was almost spring!

“Liù hates noises and, most of all, hates noisy people,” Not stunned due to his loud song in the slightest, he could easily tell she wanted to slap him. Yet, some unknown force he thanked from the depths of his heart kept her from doing that. “She’s a lady and she needs to be treated as such. Are you listening to me? This is a serious matter.”

“I know it is, but I don’t think she hates noisy people that much,” He dared to shrug and the naughty shimmer challenging her anger gradually tiptoed to his right, accelerating when it felt it was being chased by her glare.

Izumi emitted a gasp.

“But…Liù…!”

Silently, on her slender legs, Liù had stepped into the kitchen and closer to the dish. Scompering in that skinny body of hers, structured like a sleek curve culminating in the slope of a luscious tail, she had approached them ,unnoticed, and had sat down in front of the two humans like a well-mannered medieval damsel. Now she was obediently staring at them from her statuesque pose, blatantly trying holding her excitement in her bony bosom but being betrayed by her dashing heartbeat, which was making her ribs expand and contract; by her blonde ears; by her humid nose unstoppably sniffing in the relatively new environment.

In Junpei’s opinion, Liù was the most perfect specimen of female saluki existing in the world, -and also the first one he had ever seen-.

“Maybe she hates people not singing well, I guess?” He sniggered with too much confidence and Izumi gave him a harsh nudge right under his sternum.

“Have you already done this in the past?”

“Of course, I have,” He took a while to recover from the pain she had provoked him, but managed to reply her sooner than both had expected. “I know you had said I needed to learn one thing or two before starting feeding her. And I also remember you had told me she has got her own schedule, but, I mean, Izumi, I was sitting at the table, eating my pasta ai piselli and she was there, looking at me with those deer eyes… What kind of cold-hearted man would do something similar?”

“You fed her with pasta ai piselli ?! “His pupils almost got out of his orbits, noticing the futher point her more vicious elbow was going to take off from.

“No, of course, I haven’t! I searched for her food bags and I poured some food in her bowl. My pasta ai piselli was so full of water, my peas were soaking in a puddle. How could I give her that without making a mess?”

“Do you realize you are implying you would have given my dog pasta ai piselli if you had been a decent cook? !”

He would have started fiddling with his thumbs like a scolded kid, if Liù hadn’t tried catching their attention with a bark, as timid as a polite woman forcing a cough to make someone turn to her.

“You’re right, bimba,” He cracked a large smile at her. Then, he unfolded his stiff legs and clumsily crouched up to talk to the animal at her same height level. “You can eat. Buon appetito .”

“No, she can’t eat yet!” She gave a slap on his broad shoulder, but she eventually gave one onto her forehead as well, a bit disconsolate. At his jovial command, the saluki had gladly plunged her muzzle in her biscuits and she hadn’t been able to anything about it. “She was supposed to stay. That is useful to teach her how to control impulses.”

“If you ask me, it’s so cruel,” He put his tongue on display, standing up to let the dog have her own meal in peace. She got back on her feet too after having thrown the snack she had been holding into the dish. “Wouldn’t you feel tortured if I told you to sit still in front of a dish of spaghetti alla San Giovanna ? My poor bimba !”

“I-“ What kind of conversation was even that?

“Imagine,” He insisted, dropping a whole jar of theatricality on his tongue, each finger of his flying up and down in an undulating choreography. “The smell of olives and tomato sauce spreading in your nostrils…”

“Oh, let me imagine…” She closed her orbs, mocking his silly game by making him believe she was actually thinking over it. By the time she opened them, he had already disappeared behind her, fumbling with her skein of spikes. “That’s what I already do as a cook. I can’t eat what I prepare. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do…” He mumbled, pensive, caressing her strands in awe, as if he was contemplating some prestigious manifacture sewn by a God. “You know, I think I will get used to this dog owner life, after all. Maybe a maltese dog would have been boring.”

“Oh please…” Her eyelid twitched at the mere memory from the year before, from back when he had announced he wanted to give her a candid ball of fur as birthday gift. She had acted promptly, had taken the reins of the situation by herself by dragging him into an adventure on her motorbike, without revealing him where they were going. From Naples to Pisa, Junpei had let her take him to that mysterious destination up through the peninsula, though he had just come from an exhausting train journey. “Don’t remind me of that ,” She playfully begged and pinched his puffy cheeks peeping out from her golden curtain.

“I know, I know. Besides, a maltese wouldn’t have looked like me, either. So it would have been the same thing. At least, though, when I take Liù out for a stroll,” He gently let some precious threads slip on the back of her hand and pushed them forward, at the sides of her smooth neck, down her shoulders. “It’s a bit like if I’m going out with another beautiful blonde lady,” At the beginning, he had just intended to play with her, tenderly highlight about how keeping her hair like that, like a frame of gilded waves, would really make her look like a long-eared dog. Afterwards, however, after some seconds spent holding that silky fabric, he had fallen in love with its enchantment and , now hypnothyzed, he couldn’t just help indulging in his joke. He kept on going on and on, even in a more affectionate way when a cloud passed by her relaxed contentment. She should have been smiling , in his opinion: Liù had greatly appreciated her hand-made biscuits, hadn’t showed any sign of resentment towards her once more. What was she still tormenting herself over? It seemed like if she was fighting against so many forces coming to attack her in unison and he felt the urge to shine over her again.

“Hey, Izumi, do you want to hear a funny thing?”

“It’s not an offence, but you always say funny things. Otherwise you wouldn’t be Junpei, wouldn’t you?”

“But this is truly funny. Funnier than usual, if you prefer putting it like that!”

He tossed her tresses off his head and marched back to Liù, his lumbering steps sounding lighter despite the clumsy landing of his hops.

The dog had just finished eating her breakfast and was calmly cleaning her coat with her tongue. She didn’t seem bothered by the two humans barging into her quiet morning for a second time. Indeed, judging by the shy hints of a swishing tail, she was actually happy to see them again on a full belly.

“Liù, Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu ,” Junpei’s unique call made her stand on alert with excitement. Rhythmic claps and tappings against the tiles of the floor contributed to elicit even more trepidation in her active muscles. She didn’t take too long before beginning doing the same with her paws, the butterfly-shaped metallic medal of her collar dangling and jingling in the flow of her dance.

Once the right mood had been set, once he was certain Liù would follow him wherever he would go, he beckoned to the saluki to head for the living room. In the contagious heat of the fragment, he bumped into an agape Izumi who was witnessing the exchange between the man and the dog with incredulity.

“No, don’t tell me it is what I think it is,” Stuck in a frozen loop at the door of the kitchen, Junpei took advantage of that absent state of hers to involve her in a fleeting, improvised dance, her limp arms obeying to his eccentric desire, her hands falling in his without resistance and her hips spinning along with his like if they were a couple pirouetting in a carillon.

“No, like I said, it’s much, much better than whatever you think it might be.”

“I don’t think so. At all,” She told him straight into his sunny eyes in a firm whisper. “Your neighbours know well who she belongs to. They won’t come yelling at you if they hear her doing that .”

“Oh, so you know she can do that,” He wasn’t surprised in the least, but it was nice to make her blush in embarassment once in a while, turn the tables for the life-span of an afternoon nap. “All those stories about her being a proper lady…About her not liking loud people!”

“H-Hey,” She wiggled, oscillated, opened and closed her legs, raised her fists: whatever it took to escape from his tickling trap. “ Being a lady and loving singing are two interconnected qualities. They are not enemies. As far as concerns about those loud people, instead…”

“Instead…?” He prompted, his fingers flitting around her, ready for another round.

“Your opera singing is loud, but it’s a nice loud. I’ll give you that, ok ? And a dog named after the main character of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly can’t be immune to it, I guess,” He saw her nervously cracking a grin at Liù who had hopped on the sofa and was resting on a pillow. Waiting .

“Hey!” Without prior warning, he let her go to her displeasure, no matter if his tickling was more than unbearable. That would be, -to use his own words-, much better than whatever he wanted to do, sitting at his piano and lifting the fallboard with a thud. “You don’t really want to play piano right now, at eight in the morning?!”

“Of course, I want to. I’m not supposed to make a proper lady wait, am I not?” Liù had apparently got used to that term, to the many occasions she had acknowledged humans would look at her while pronouncing it. Therefore, feeling like Junpei had just called her into question, she abandoned the comforts of her pillow and reached him. She licked his hand and gladly accepted the caresses coming in response. Then, on her haunches, she put her paws on black wood and stared at him in fibrillating expectation. “Eh eh, may I introduce you to my new soprano partner? She’s also the Great Detective Shibayama’s assistant, though, mind you! Let’s say this is just the lamest side of our life as ordinary citizens.”

”Ah…Don’t use my instructions howsoever you please, Junpei Shibayama. Honestly…” At the first row of notes propagating in the hall, she sat on the sofa and aimed the bud of a glad smile at the window.

In her soul, she was just so happy he had come to quickly find out it had never been a matter of superficial likeness.

__________________________________________

Italian notes:

Principessa: princess

Ma io dico: literally, it means “But I say…”. Still it is just some form of interaction to express disbelief (in a negative way).

Pappa: It’s a terms we use while speaking to babies and animals. It means food, technically.

Bimba and bambina: synonym for “little girl” but we use them in affectionate contexts as well. It’s a bit like “baby” I guess. I became affectionate to bimba thanks to italian dub of Lady and the Tramp. It did stick with me in the sweetest way as possible.

Pasta ai piselli: It’s pasta and peas ahaha

Spaghetti alla San Giovanna: In my family it has always been spaghetti, tomato sauce and olives. Such has to remain to them, please.

Liù, Liù, la bambina mia che sei tu: Liù, Liù, the baby you are to me. Our structures are really not that easy to translate in english sometimes? We can be free in the order of our words, in our dispositio verborum, so we it’s not always easy to translate everything. Yet, it’s just supposed to be one of those silly tunes you sing to your dog.