#i imagine he's a bit shorter than seven

[erebus0dora]

ok so i promised you a rant on Eric Bogosian, and i pinky promise i'll try to keep the story short (those beautiful people i've already privately spewed my fascination at deserve peace and love 💜)

TL;DR: Eric Bogosian is a good researcher and judge of human nature, which honestly shouldn't be surprising given his experience, links below

it is easy to google Eric (i'll call him that not out of disrespect, it's just shorter) and get to a conclusion he's just a slightly awkward old man who had extremely weird youth and gives off a powerful bi vibe just for shits and giggles; which is fair, given the wild way he handles most interviews

but hear me out, i'm not an expert, i'm just a book kind of girl. so i sought out the books, and into the books i looked.

back in 1988 he was nominated for Pulitzer's for his "Talk Radio", and i count that as one of the first cases of him using a real story to weave a (semi)fictional one. it is a powerful play, and a gut-punching movie, but I am mentioning it not because of its ehhh artistic value. in my book, it's a proof of the way he tends to critically re-imagine the things he sees and analyses.

keep that in mind when you google his "Operation 'Nemesis".

he initially started looking into the history of Armenian genocide as into the material worth developing into a plot for a movie. but, in his own words, and i quote, "I wrote this book because I had no choice. The Nemesis story required more attention than a simple screenplay."

he is still not a scientist, mind that - and his book reads as a work of fiction. say, there's no way one can look into the head of a deceased person and know their feelings, but one can guess; and Eric guesses, of course. but the fun part is that he makes educated guesses. nearly for each presumption there's a source. a footnote. a quote.

what really strikes me is that he looked into ONE plot line and fished out a complex slice of history, dripping with CONTEXT. White Russian emigration? it's in there. early stages of oil industry? check. the colourful background of Europe in early XX century? all there.

there's no wonder he spent seven years on this book.

i repeat: SEVEN. YEARS.

call me sapiosexual, but that was the moment when i stopped and thought: ok, THIS IS HOT.

what also impresses me is the way he speaks of his past. he admits he's done wild shit, and adds that the best part was the moment he understood he didn't need to be high to be creative. it's the underlying power of "yeah, been there, got better, SO CAN YOU" that gets me.

to keep things short, i'm adding links:

here's a vid where he speaks of the book on Armenian genocide (i had personal reasons to tear up a bit while listening, ngl)

and here's a vid where he speaks of acting, writing, and improv, that basically broke my art block, for which i am going to be grateful for fucking ever, i guess

(if you got to this point of my rant, you deserve a hug and a respectful kiss on the mouth if you're ok with that. go have a lovely day 💜)

[cloudcountry]

sneaking riddle out to a summer carnival!!!

SUMMARY: you take riddle to his first carnival!

COMMENTS: takes place post-overblot. honestly this can be read as heavy pining or established relationship LMAO also riddle wears heels outside of his housewarden's uniform shut UP

please be nice to me i am rusty i fear

TAGLIST: i'm going to be doing this again so let me know if you'd like to be tagged in stuff!!

Riddle’s first instinct is to turn right on his heel and walk out of there, and if it wasn’t for your hopeful smile and bright eyes he probably would have. The bright flashing lights, the screaming, and oh Great Seven, the food were all things his mother would have screamed at him for participating in. He supposes that's why you brought him here.

Just the two of you. No Ace, no Deuce, not even Grim is here with you.

The smell of grease and sugar is in the air as your fingers intertwine with his. The action catches him off guard, and you use it to your advantage and drag him deeper into the carnival. He vaguely hears you ask for tickets, making small talk with the vendor as they exchange a handful of tickets for your thaumarks.

(Letting someone else pay for his activities would also be something his mother would yell at him for, he thinks. He’s too busy trying to figure out how safe the ferris wheel is to examine the thought further.)

He’s glad Grim isn’t here. The thought makes his mouth twist in displeasure at how immature he’s being, but deep down he knows the direbeast would be hogging all of your attention. It’s easy to dispel the thought when you grab his hand and lead him into the chaos that is the carnival.

“Which ride do you want to start first?” you ask, a bounce in your step as you turn back and smile at him.

Riddle eyes each one warily. They all look rather horrifying, and if he’s honest with you he’d say he doesn't want to ride any of them.

His eyes catch on the drop tower, and it’s at that moment that the tower drops, and Riddle watches with wide eyes as the people on the ride plunge to the bottom, screaming like they're going to be killed.

“It’s for fun! Adrenaline, you know?” you say hastily.

He’s certain he’s gaping at the ride like he’s seen a ghost.

“We could try some games...?”

Riddle takes a moment to compose himself, shaking himself out of his stupor. He’s never been so out of his element, but he knows for sure you’d never lead him astray. You never have.

“Which one is your favorite?” he asks, watching your face relax.

“I think we should start with the ferris wheel.” you smile softly, and he can't tell if you're dodging the question or if that is your favorite ride, “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s a good ride to start with when you’re nervous.”

He wants to thank you, but the words get stuck in his throat. He lets you chatter about each game and each ride as you pass them, the ground beneath you uneven and bumpy. Riddle is glad you told him to dress comfortably—as ridiculous as it would have been to wear a pair of his heels for a carnival, he’s struggling even in his dress shoes.

You should always look presentable. There is no use complaining.

He feels you squeeze his hand again. You’ve found yourselves in front of the ferris wheel, with the queue shorter than he imagined it’d be. He looks over to you with a question in his eyes, and you giggle.

“Sage Island isn’t that crowded around here, you know? It’s already pretty isolated from everywhere else.” you say, “Don’t worry about it, just let me take the reigns today, okay?”

You bump your hip against his playfully as the line starts to move, and Riddle stumbles after you as you squeeze into a cart. You bounce in your seat as the attendant shuts the door and sends you up into the sky.

Riddle has seen the movies, the cheesy ones were the cart was a little bit bigger and the view was a little bit brighter, but he never understood the appeal of sitting there and watching rides move with someone else.

Now he gets it.

Your hand is still touching his, and he swears if he focuses hard enough he can feel your pulse against the heel of his palm. Riddle spares a glance at you, only to find you looking at him with a hopeful smile.

“Isn’t it nice?” you ask, voice soft and sweet and kind.

“Yes.” he nods, choking on his words as the scent of your shampoo wafts towards him.

You’re both so close.

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and Riddle feels a stab of disappointment in his chest. You laugh at his pout, bumping shoulders with him.

“Don’t worry, we get to go again!” you say, and he perks right back up.

He loves the ferris wheel. He wants to go on it again sometime, if you’d let him.

It seems like only a few minutes before you’re off of the ride and you’re pulling him over to all the food stalls, The smile on your face is infectious as you rattle off the different types of carnival food, talking about the strawberry variants of each one. It fills his chest with butterflies to see you so attentive—truly, he feels spoiled when you buy him a strawberry funnel cake and a caramel apple and even strawberry flavored shaved ice. In return, Riddle insists he pay for your food, and you laugh before accepting.

“I just wanted to treat you.” you confess, sipping on the drink your ordered, “You worked so hard during exams and even worked with others to make sure they were doing okay. Deuce did really well because you inspired him to work hard. You’re amazing—and you deserve a day off every now and then.”

It takes him off guard, just how candid you can be, especially with someone like him. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen him at his most vulnerable, you’ve seen parts of his past only Trey knows, you took the time to get closer to him when everyone else kept their distance, He knows now that that distance was his own fault, which is yet another thing you helped him realize, and—

You’re still doing more for him, over and over again. It’s like a debt he’ll never be able to pay back.

So instead, he reaches over and grabs your hand, the pads of his fingertips pressing into your palm.

You look over at him.

“Hm?”

His heart feels like it’s caught in his throat, but he forces the words out.

“Thank you for today.”

The smile that stretches across your face is the widest one yet. It’s triumphant, like his smile was the prize for winning a game you’d been playing for far too long.

“Of course, Riddle.” you scoot closer, “It’s no problem at all. I hope you’ll do this with me again sometime.”

He will. In a heartbeat, he will.

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ chapter 3 + lore ~

[word count: 3650+]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/ princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 × reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, l'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤 )

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 3 + lore ]

You swallowed loudly, Namjoon’s words ringing through your head. Stood before you were seven knights, as attractive as they were intimidating. They were clad in dark iron armour, long swords strapped to their sides.

“Princess, I introduce to you, the lucky seven.” Your father promptly stated, therefore queuing the men to kneel before you. “Your highness” they all spoke in unison whilst looking down in respect. This made your heart slightly jump at the sudden submission from the domineering looking men.

Standing up, the men turned their sight to your father as he continued “the lucky seven are our nation's most powerful and capable knights. They are of full hybrid, all seven being a pack.” Taking in your father's words, their pack name finally rang a bell. You’ve heard of them before. You’ve heard from whispers of servants that the pack is strong enough to take out dozens of assailants at once.

You had no idea that the two men that had saved you the night before were part of the infamous pack. With Namjoon’s kind and gentle smile you could have never imagined that he was apart of such a daunting pack. “Now. These men are to guard you in and out the palace at all times. You are required to have at least three knights by your side in the palace, all seven if you wish you leave the palace.” Your father ordered.

“Sir Kim Seokjin” he called. The man from the far left stepping forward, “My lord” he replied. “This here, is Sir Kim Seokjin, the pack’s oldest. He is a hamster hybrid.” your father declared gesturing to the man.

A hamster? He was tall and had broad shoulders, contrasting a small waist. You would’ve never guess that the tall and muscular looking man was a hamster hybrid. He was staring forward, head held up high.

Examining his face, you took note of his lips immediately. They were strikingly plump and glossy. Making your way up his face, his eyes were the colour of chocolate, the same as his hair. You found yourself in awe of the man’s attractiveness, you’ve never seen anyone so radiant, other than the two hybrids you had just met last night of course.

Without warning, the man’s glance turned from your father to you. Startled, you glanced away, embarrassed. Looking down, you closed your hands together and started to fidget with your thumbs. The man smiled at this. ‘how cute’ he thought to himself before turning his glance to your father once again.

“Sir Min Yoongi” your father called, saving you from your embarrassment. “My lord” answered the man, stepping forward. You looked back up to see the knight.

This man was shorter than the others, almost petite, with long black hair swept over the top of his head. He was just as ravishing as the hybrid before him, feline-like eyes and a downturned mouth. His jawline was less sharp than the others, giving him a soft look.

“Sir Min Yoongi here, is the second oldest of the pack. He is a cat-hybrid” your father spoke. ‘Of course’ you thought to yourself, even in his human forum he resembles a feline. You nodded to your father to continue.

“and I’m sure you’ve already been acquainted with Sir Kim Namjoon and Sir Jung Hoseok.” the two stepped forward, “my lord” they replied in unison before both turned their sights to you, making you unconsciously clear your throat. “Sir Kim Namjoon is the third oldest of the seven, a wolf hybrid as you may already be aware of. He is the pack’s leader.” stated your father, looking to Namjoon causing the knight to smile proudly, dimples displayed while straightening his posture somehow even more so.

Your fathers eyes then moved to whom you knew as Hobi. “And Sir Jung Hoseok is the pack’s fourth oldest. A dog-hybrid, specifically of the golden retriever species” your father gestured to the man. So he’s a golden retriever? You can’t help but smile at the thought, it suits him. His smile was wide and bright, truly like a golden retriever.

“And now I want to introduce the pack’s three youngest” decreed your father, resulting in the last of the three to step forward “my lord” they replied in unison, just like Hobi and Namjoon did. “Starting from the left, this is Sir Park Jimin, the third youngest. His hybrid animal is also a feline like Sir Min Yoongi” you turned your sight to aforementioned the man.

‘Woah’ you thought to yourself. He was a pretty man, face adorned with plump and pillowy lips like the hamster hybrid before him. His eyes were feline-like, almost seductive. The man was smaller than the others, a slim waist also like the hamster hybrid’s but you could tell that he had a strong figure.

“The middle knight is Sir Kim Taehyung, second youngest and a lion hybrid” your father motioned to the knight. This knight was equally as attractive as the rest of his pack, having an alluring look. The man having thick brows, making him look serious.

Upon further examination, you took note of his facial moles, one being above his lip and another on top of his nose. He also had both a monolid and a double lid. The knight had a structured face paired with a sculpted body, much like his other pack mates, only difference being his hands, as they were a bit larger than the others.

“And last but certainly not least, the pack’s youngest, Sir Jeon Jungkook, a bunny hybrid.” spoke your father. The last and youngest knight was ironically the second tallest of his pack. You could see that he was also most likely the most buff, coming to a close tie with Namjoon.

Contrasting his bulky frame, was an innocent appearing face. His eyes were wide, doe like, accompanied by lips with a sharp cupids bow. The combination was very charming. Enticed by the man before you, you also took notice of a little scar across his left cheek.

Your father cleared his throat, taking you out of your mesmerization “you are dismissed until dinner” he declared. You curtsied your father before turning to walk out the room. Followed behind you were multiple steps pattered against the floor, causing you to turn around, the steps to coming to a halt.

Behind you, stood the seven knights ready to escort you. “Oh, you meant starting now?” your voice rang through the courtroom.

-

The sounds of numerous footsteps clacked against the marble floor behind you as you made your way through the corridor back to your chamber. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy with the amount of eyes you felt on your back. The men were in a line, taking up the whole hallway while following closely behind you.

Each step you took, felt calculated, as if you would trip from the burning stares. You decide to stop, the footsteps behind you also stopping, mirroring yours. Acknowledging this, you started walking once again, footsteps following suit.

You stopped one more time, the steps halting once more. This is when you turned to face the men “can you guys at least walk beside or in front of me, you’re all making me very nervous.” you stated whilst rubbing your wrist. You were used of a servant or two following you around from time to time but certainly not 7 very attractive men.

“Why are you nervous? We’re your guards, we are supposed to protect you after all.” The knight named Jin spoke with a sly manner while moving to stand in front of you. The man bent down to match his height with yours, cocking his head with a smile. This made your stomach do all sorts of flips.

Startled, you took a step back and swallowed dryly. You weren’t used to such close eye contact, especially with a man who wasn’t your servant. You could feel the sweat beads quickly forming behind your neck when Namjoon stepped forward, wrapping his hand around Jin’s shoulder.

“Alright hyung, be mindful of the princess. Remember, she’s never been around anyone other than her parents and servants until the night before..” the wolf hybrid reminded the hamster hybrid. Jin clicked his tongue against his teeth “I guess you’re right…” he reluctantly admitted. “so? can you guys please walk in front of me….” you spoke quietly, causing the men to turn their attention back to you.

They could all feel their hearts warm at your timidness. Hoseok abruptly spoke up, stepping forward “Namjoon and I will walk beside you, the rest will walk behind you” he happily volunteered, much to the other hybrids chagrin. They wanted you walk beside you.

“okay.. thank you..” you breathed out. Namjoon and Hoseok walked up to your sides, the wolf-hybrid taking your left and the golden retriever-hybrid your right. The rest of the knights lined up behind you.

“better?” Asked Namjoon looking down at you. You looked up the at the wolf-hybrid, feeling a bit more comfortable than you did before. “Yes.” You replied and with that, you continued making your way to your room, the hybrid knights by your side and behind, following closely along.

-

As you finally made it to the oh so familiar tall white doors of your chamber, you couldn’t help but notice the gasps and whispers that came from your servants and maids as you were walking through the palace. Usually you’re kindly greeted and approached in the palace by your servants but with the intimidating looking pack that followed you, they all seemed to scatter away. It was as if they were avoiding you or more accurately, the pack.

This saddened you a bit as you already don’t have any friends. As pathetic as it may sound, your servants were the closest things you had to friends. Sighing, you were about to open your doors when you were cut off by a pair large arms.

“Please, allow us. Wait here.” Contended Hoseok. He turned the knobs, opening the doors as he and Namjoon stepped inside while the others waited outside with you. After the two deemed the room safe, they called out to their fellow pack members.

“it’s clear” signalling for you and the rest to walk in. ‘Is it going to be like this every single time I walk into a room?’ you questioned to yourself.

-

The sound of your clock filled the silent room, with the occasional turn of a book page from Namjoon who was reading by the seat near your windowsill. You were sitting in front of your vanity, braiding your hair while the men were scattered across your room. When your father said they were to be by your side at all times, you didn’t think he meant it literally.

Swinging your head back and groaning in frustration, you started to mentally berate yourself. If you hadn’t snuck out, you wouldn’t be in this predicament. 'You should’ve just stayed home' you thought to yourself.

Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head. Would the attack even still have happened if you weren’t there? How did the assailants even know that you were the princess? Was it the same way Hoseok did? Did they know you would be there that night? And if so, how?

Millions of questions ran rapid through your head. Your head started to feel heavy and sore. With sudden pangs of pain shooting through your mind, you decide to put your head down on your vanity, arms wrapped around underneath for cushion.

You shut your eyes and tried to do the same with your mind. You inhaled through your nose deeply before exhaling slowly through your mouth, as though if you controlled your breathing, your mind would soon follow suit. Much to your surprise, it did. Your mind slowly started to go blank, instead, focusing on the ticking of your room’s clock.

tick..tock..tick..tock..tick..tock.. you find yourself start to yawn as your body began to sunk even more into your vanity, relaxation running through your body. With the recent events that had transpired, you would think you wouldn’t be able to get a blink of sleep out of fear or paranoia.

Instead you felt safe. Knowing deep down, it is because of the hybrids that currently reside in your room. The ticking of your clock is getting quieter and quieter, before you succumb to your inevitable slumber.

-

It doesn’t take very long before the youngest hybrid notices that you had fallen asleep. Cautiously, he began walking towards your sleeping figure on the chair. You were facing down on your vanity table, head wrapped around with your arms.

Unexpectedly, you moved your arm to scratch your head, placing it back down away from your face. Jungkook slowly bent down and moved toward you to examine your face. Upon closer inspection, the hybrid noticed a little bit of drool on the corner of your mouth. This made him chuckle in endearment.

Slowly backing up, he cleared his throat “Guys? I think the princess has fallen asleep” he whispered with a smile. Quickly, the men turned from whatever they were doing and fixed their sights upon you. Their faces softening as they took in the sight before them.

Your hair was half braided, baby hairs sticking to your forehead from sweat. Mouth slightly parted as you breathed in and out. “She looks so… peaceful.” Jimin spoke. “You’re right” Taehyung agreed.

They all continued to stare at you in silence whilst you slept, only the clock ticking and your soft breaths filling the silent room. What after seemed like an eternity, Namjoon finally spoke up. “We should get the princess into her bed.” The men uttered courses of agreement before Jungkook quickly offered “I’ll do it!” while standing up.

Everyone nodded and made their ways back to their spots, secretly a bit jealous that they didn’t think of Jungkook’s offer first. Quietly, the youngest made his way to your sleeping body, carefully picking you up out of your seat as to not wake you. Lifting you up, he laid your head on his shoulder, causing you to unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, the action warming his heart.

He then wrapped your legs around his waist one by one. Cautiously, he started walking, making his way to your bed careful not to drop you. Slowly, he began to put you down on your bed but much to his surprise, you wouldn’t let go, your legs and arms still wrapped around his body.

“Um, Hyungs….” Jungkook quietly spoke. The rest of the pack turned their attention to their youngest, eyes widening at the sight. Jungkook wasn’t even holding onto you, yet, you were wrapped around him like a spider monkey.

“She won’t let me go…” Jungkook continued. The sight made them envy the youngest. Jin stood up “are you sure? try leaning down on the bed” ordered the hamster hybrid. Jungkook nodded and did what he was told.

You were still holding on tight but now you were whining. Your whines tugged at the men’s heart strings. “shit…” Namjoon said, holding his chin while thinking. “Well… just let her sleep on you.”

Jungkook’s heart raced. He swallowed dryly “ar-are you sure?” asked the youngest. “yes, I’m sure” affirmed the leader. Namjoon couldn’t lie, he was envious of the youngest but your safety and well being came first, that included your sleep. So alas, he would just have to deal with his jealousy.

Slightly shaking, Jungkook softly sat down on the bed before putting his legs up and laying down on his back with you still wrapped on him. ‘The princess of the emerald nation is wrapped around me’ he thought. Looking straight up to the ceiling, he was nervous.

He didn’t want to make any wrong move so he just laid there, stiff, not even breathing. Suddenly you yawned and your grip on him became even tighter. This turned his gaze to you. You looked so comfortable. This subconsciously made him follow suit, his body relaxing at the sight and finally breathing.

Once he inhaled, he caught your scent. You smelt of vanilla and shea butter, causing him to decompress even more. He looked over your face and noticed your baby hairs, still stuck to your forehead. Slowly, he raised his hand toward your head, lightly moving them to the side. This made you sigh in content, the sound making the hybrid’s cheeks heat up.

'You were really cute' he thought to himself. The hybrid laid his head back down, closing his eyes. Your scent, the sound of your breaths and the weight of your body, all combining together to create a deadly melatonin for the bunny-hybrid. He soon followed suit you, falling into a slumber.

-

Night time quickly fell. The hybrids stared at Jungkook and you, begrudgingly. You were for sure going to be scented by the bunny hybrid by the time you woke up, and they all each wanted to be the first one to do so. You looked like a little pup compared to Jungkook’s large frame.

Although envious, they enjoyed the sight in front of them, their pack mate and their princess looking so comfy sleeping together. A knock brought them to their senses followed by a door creak. “Your highness?” spoke a servant.

They all immediately shushed the servant, startling him and almost causing him to jump. Looking around, he noticed that they were all sat around your bed, you still being wrapped around Jungkook. The servant nervously cleared his throat “apologies but uhhh, is princess y/l/n going to make it to dinner?” He questioned in a hushed voice.

“I don’t think so” answered Jin while turning to look at your sleeping figure on Jungkook, in a complete dead sleep. “okay well just so you’re aware, only three of you need to be here over-night so if the four of you wanna go back to your den then you ca-“ “no.” Namjoon abruptly cut the servant off. “we’re okay here.” The wolf hybrid affirmed, looking back to you.

“thank you, that will be all” finished the leader, turning back to give the servant a courteous, but fake, smile. “oh okay. I’ll be off then.” replied the servant before he made his exit, the sound of the doors shutting gently behind him. “So how are we gonna do this?” Asked Hobi.

“I guess the two of us can try and fit on the bed with Jungkook and y/n while the others can sleep on the floor” answered Namjoon. Jimin immediately stood up “I am not sleeping on the floor” making his way to the bed, laying down beside jungkook and you.

Jimin stretched his arms and yawned. “So who’s sleeping with us? There’s one more spot” questioned the feline. Suddenly a body jumped onto the edge of the bed, causing it to slightly shake. The pack members angrily shushed in unison. “sorry, I couldn’t help it” Hobi smiled, making himself comfortable on the bed. Namjoon sighed “I guess it’s you guys and I on the floor tonight, huh?” he concluded to Jin, Yoongi and Taehyung, nudging the youngest one.

“aishhhh.” Yoongi exclaimed while throwing his head back. “alright whatever” the lion-hybrid defeatedly said throwing his hands up before he started to make his way to what he assumed was your closet, looking for any sort of extra blankets. Taehyung wanted to sleep with you but he guesses that his three pack members will do for tonight.

-

-

[ LORE ]

Hybrids:

Hybrids are a humanoid species who can shape shift. They require the blood of humans in order to survive. Without it, they can lose the ability to shape shift back into humans. If hybrids stay in their animal form for too long, they can lose their humanity and minds before ultimately, dying as a rabid animals. Not all animals in this world are rabid, just hybrids who lose their humanity. This becomes a problem as humans become more scarce and classism rises in the nations. Needing twice as much as blood from a half human then you would a full human. Poor or small hybrid villages are often overlooked, deemed unfit for survival.

Humans:

Humans. What can we say about humans.. except everything. They are seen as gods, saviours, supreme beings and everything in between. Their yearly blood sacrifices that nourished their hybrid minds and bodies were seen as the most noble act. For this, they were and are forever in their debts. Human blood wasn’t seen as something to have to regulate or worry about since there were so many humans. Before the disaster that is. There was a huge unknown catastrophe hundreds of years ago that wiped out only and nearly all humans. Since then, humans and their blood have been regulated, only the richest villages in the nations being sub-stained while others, perished, turning into rabid animals forever before finally succumbing and dying. The fall of a hybrid village is something no one should ever witness. The scent of a human can also help a hybrid thrive and become stronger, kind of like a boost.

Emerald nation:

This nation was formed hundreds of years ago along with dozens of other nations following the catastrophic disaster that took almost all humans. The fateful surviving human families of that day were sent over all the nations, one family for each one. Over the years the nations capital villages that the human families resided in soon turned into kingdoms, the families also turning into what we know as royal. The humans served and provided for their respective kingdoms alongside hybrids alike. The humans also courted fellow humans from other nations royal families to keep the human blood line going but as time went on, there were no more other humans to court. This caused a proposal, a proposal for selected hybrids to court and mate with royal family members. This went on for years, resulting in half hybrids and quarter hybrids before only one full blooded human family remained. Your family.

a/n; hello again everyone! it’s currently almost 7am where I live. I stayed up to finish and proof read the chapter and I’m soooo tired but I really wanted to finish and share with you guys :)) anyways I’m gonna try and sleep for a bit. I’ll start a bit of chapter four tomorrow but I’ll be sure to have it finished and posted by Wednesday night or Thursday morning (my time zone is EDT) thank you for reading! 🥰

[tag list🖤🖤🖤: @strxwbloody @exfolitae @thebisexualonesworld @skyys-universe ]

*tag list is open, just ask 🖤*

previous chapter:

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Ooooh here we go again

With that dumb parrot story

I did a art and made a banner

I'm too tired to do more words, so have a chapter

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 6 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. You have managed to gain the trust of the swordsman in a shorter period of time than you expected, but at what cost...?

Previous Chapter, First Chapter

Next chapter

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 4,408

Taglist: @i-am-vita, @browneyedhufflepuff, @h0n3y-l3m0n05, @littleleelee, @nerium-lil, @schanwow, @dragon-bubs , @animefreak818 holySHIT guys I didn't realize there were so many of you I'm not used to this thank you so much??

The longer that no word came of your status, the more Bogard found himself growing increasingly concerned for your well-being. Little as he enjoyed it the fact, he had grown somewhat fond of your during your brief stint of training at Marineford, having been the one forced to oversee the vast majority of it.

“You know a group of parrots is referred to as a pandemonium?”

You had certainly made an impression on Garp, if nothing else. Bogard rolled his eyes toward the vice admiral, who took no notice of his wry expression—he was too busy flipping through a book you had left behind on exotic birds, leaned back behind his desk with a cigar clutched between his thumb and index finger.

“I can hardly begin to imagine why,” said Bogard dryly, leaning his shoulder into the wall next to the desk and crossing his arms. “Considering a change in career, vice admiral?”

Garp gave a snort of laughter, taking a couple puffs from the cigar. “Gotta retire eventually, don’t I?”

Bogard let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. For the last week he had been stuck with the man in a small office with no purpose except to process new reports on Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk. World’s Strongest Swordsman. Marine Slayer. The elusive pirate’s epithets were growing nearly as innumerable as reports on his activity weren’t, and it grew more tiresome with every passing day. It almost felt as if they were being punished for suggesting this absurd operation in the first place.

“Huh. Lifespan of over a hundred years in captivity. Maybe not the best retirement option, then…”

“Are you capable of taking anything seriously?” said Bogard wearily as Garp shut the book and dropped it heavily on his desk. Garp shrugged a shoulder, clamping the cigar between his teeth and reclining further back in his chair.

“Just enjoying the downtime while we still have it,” he said, tucking his hands behind his neck and propping his boots up on the desk. “Reports should start coming in any day now.”

“So you’ve been saying for the past seven days,” said Bogard, shoving away from the wall. Garp just shrugged a shoulder again, watching Bogard pace across the office in front of the desk. “Not the least bit worried that we’ve sent somewhat promising cadet off to die for no reason.”

“Nope.” Bogard stopped at the corner of the desk, looking back at him and raising an eyebrow. Garp shifted in his chair, settling back more comfortably, his untroubled sigh sending another stab of irritation straight through Bogard’s skull. “She’ll be fine.”

Same as always—Garp rarely took anything seriously, and his faith in the abilities of anyone he took on as a protege remained ever unshakable. He had spent the past week with an air as if he were practically on vacation, and right now was no different. Bogard finally took a seat in the chair across from his, falling into it heavily and strumming his fingers on the armrest, watching in increasing frustration as Garp began snoring. He rolled his eyes and picked up the discarded book from the desk, flipping through it idly.

The vice admiral’s snoring grew steadily louder in the confines of the tiny office, and as Bogard was considering chucking the book directly at his head, the unthinkable happened.

The den den mushi that had been sitting silently on the desk for the past week began to tone dully.

Garp cracked an eye open in an instant, and both men simply stared at it for a long moment—then Garp gave an amused snort, stretching and rubbing at his eyes.

“You do the honors,” he said, nodding at it. “Since you’re so concerned about the kid.”

Bogard shot a glare in his direction, but didn’t waste any more time in picking up the receiver, reclining slowly back into the chair as he pulled it to his ear.

“Rear Admiral Bogard, speaking.”

“Sir. This—this is the office taking reports on—”

“Dracule Mihawk, yes,” he said in a clipped tone. “Your report.”

“He was sighted recently in the port city of Acacia.” Bogard gave brief hum in acknowledgment. “In Dressrosa—”

“I’m quite aware of where Acacia is located,” he said. “Are there any further details worth mentioning?”

“It appears he made port to gather supplies. No casualties, he was gone by the time the reports reached us. And, uh...well…” Bogard gave an impatient sigh at the hesitation of the Marine at the other end of the line. “It’s...well, he wasn’t exactly alone? Our reports say he had a gray bird sitting on his hat.”

He slowly lifted an eyebrow, glancing at Garp. “A gray bird on his hat,” said Bogard, and rolled his eyes at Garp’s bark of laughter. “Is that all?”

“Well, he didn’t really cause any problems. Gave a pet store owner a pretty good fright, but she insists he paid for everything.”

A—pet store—” He shoved his hand over the receiver to shush Garp as the vice admiral burst into hearty laughter, to absolutely no avail. He lowered his hand again, shaking his head. “Keep her on your radar. Myself and Vice Admiral Garp will be en route soon to take her statement.”

“Yes, sir—”

He dropped the receiver back onto the snail on the desk, hanging up the call, strumming his fingers against his knee as he waited for Garp to get a hold of himself.

“Straight to a pet store,” he chuckled, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “I’d say the girl’s already outdone herself.”

“So it would seem,” said Bogard stiffly. He leaned into the arm of his chair, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as Garp stood, picking up his coat from the back of his own chair.

“On your feet, man. Looks like we’re bound for Dressrosa.”

“Indeed it does,” agreed Bogard, pulling himself to his feet. It was a marked relief to know that the operation seemed to be going according to plan, of course—even if it meant he would have to endure Garp’s gloating for the foreseeable future.

###

Amid your brief outing to gather supplies, you had learned three things about Dracule Mihawk—none of which, unfortunately, would help further your mission.

The first was that he did his best to avoid direct confrontation with Marines in most circumstances, as they did him. The moment he had been sighted by a pair of cadets on patrol near the docks of Acacia, they had gone white and fled immediately in the direction of their base. He had done little more than roll his eyes at the sight, and assure you as you perched on the brim of his hat that there should be no concern of a fight. You had already learned during your training that most of his hostility toward Marines had been a result of him being attacked, so it was no surprise. The information might be important—it would, if nothing else, mean he might be more likely to accept the offer of Warlord status, should that come to pass.

Secondly, you had learned that he was quite the charmer. The owner of the small pet store he had entered with you had almost immediately gone into a panic at the mere sight of him, but the swordsman had easily assuaged her worries that was merely there as a customer in need of advice on how to handle caring for a bird. Within less than ten minutes, she had been happy to recommend him a couple books on the subject, and even close the shop long enough to walk to the docks as a willing hostage to ensure the Marines wouldn’t interfere with his departure.

Third, you had discovered he had all but completely trained the strange race of intelligent primates that resided on Kuraigana Island to do his bidding—well enough that they actually listened when he commanded them to carry the supplies he had returned with back to the castle. You couldn’t be sure whether he had trained them to handle weapons himself; but you were certain from the way they listened to his commands, and from the very manner in which they looked at him, tat they viewed him with equal parts fear and respect.

That, perhaps, was the best information you had gained. The beasts, which he referred to as humandrills, would attack anyone but him on sight, and they were formidable enough in strength and intelligence that their presence alone made the island an impenetrable fortress. That explained well enough why almost no one that had entered Kuraigana Island had lived to tell their tale.

You shifted your post to his shoulder in one of the larger studies in the sprawling castle, when he removed his hat and reclined back onto a daybed built into the window, flipping through a book he had bought from the shop in Acacia.

“‘Over one hundred years in captivity,’” he read aloud, sighing to himself. “Our friend at the shop said you didn’t seem much older than twenty. I suppose I’ll be stuck with you a while, won’t I?” You tilted your head when he glanced over at you, and he gave a small scoff, rolling his eyes back over to the book propped open against his knee. “Talking to a damned bird…” he mumbled to himself as he flipped a page. “Perhaps I am as mad as the rumors claim.”

There were a few other bits of information you had gleaned about Mihawk in the week you had spent posing as his feathery companion. You knew he spent the vast majority of his days either training, maintaining his sword, reading, or sleeping.

You knew that he enjoyed his solitude—and despite that, he didn’t seem to consider your presence as any imposition upon it.

You knew, whether he realized it or not, that he had a soft spot for animals. His attitude toward the humandrills was evidence enough of that, given he could have easily wiped them off of Kuraigana Island had he wanted to. He had instead chosen to live in peace with them. While it was clear they feared him, that he had definitely established his dominance among them at some point, he still spoke to them with a sort of respect that they seemed to emulate. In the same way, he had a tendency to talk to you as if you were able to understand him, despite his belief that you were just a parrot.

And you knew, having grown up on a reservation for exotic birds, that people who were kind to animals tended to be inherently good.

You had learned, little as you wanted to admit it, that he was kind.

He could be impatient, he could be downright terrifying and deadly if he wanted or needed to be—but the vast majority of the time, he desired nothing more than the peace and quiet to do as he pleased. It made perfect sense why he had decided to set up base on this gloomy little island. It was a place where no one could bother him, where he could spend his time sipping wine and deciding his next course of action without any interruption.

You found yourself growing just as comfortable with the silence and solitude as the days dragged on. As your two month period of observation drew closer and closer to its end, you honestly found yourself dreading it. While you had managed to successfully embed yourself into Mihawk’s daily routine, you had failed to find anything at all that the Marines might consider an actual weakness on his part.

Sure, he seemed to respect the humandrills, but you doubted he would be too concerned at anyone attempting taking them hostage—they could handle themselves

Yes, he valued his solitude, but there wasn’t much that could impede upon that.

There was only one thing you could honestly think of that he might consider a weakness, and you were loathe to admit to it yourself.

As you perched at the footboard of his bed, tucking your beak down into your feathers and pretending to drift off to sleep, you knew that you might be his only weakness.

You knew that every night for nearly two months, he had gone to sleep with you perching mere inches away from him, nonethewiser that he had an enemy in his midst, that you were tracking and noting his every move, that his only loyal companion was spying on him.

You lifted your head from your wing, watching him sleep soundly with a hand tucked behind his neck, knowing that within a few days you would have to leave.

Knowing yourself how much it hurt to lose a beloved pet.

How much it might hurt him—

No. No, you couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t consider it. You were a marine, you had a mission to follow through on, one that you were nearly finished with.

You had to figure out what to do. If you kept overthinking it you were bound to jeopardize everything. The thought of lying to Garp and Bogard made your stomach twist, but...so did the alternative. To tell them that you may have inadvertently become the only potential weakness of the pirate you were supposed to be gathering intelligence on sounded laughable even in your own head, even if it was the truth. The stress had made it nearly impossible to sleep for days, almost impossible to eat.

You knew you were only supposed to make outside contact if your life was in immediate danger, but if you continued on your current path you were bound to lose focus and slip up, and then your life would be in danger. The only den den mushi that you knew to be in the expansive castle was situated in the large study one floor down in the tower from the bedroom, far enough away that you wouldn’t disturb the sleeping swordsman as long as you kept your voice down….

You had to. You had to make the call now. Keeping your eyes glued to Mihawk, stretched across the bed with a hand tucked behind his neck, the covers twisted and only half draped across his midsection and legs, breathing deeply, you fluttered your wings a few times.

Gave a small whistle.

He didn’t so much as twitch in his sleep.

Drawing up your resolve, you hopped down from the ornate footboard of the bed, spreading your wings out to glide across to the open door of the bedroom, landing softly on the stone floor just outside. You crept slowly, silently along the edge of the wall, your heart racing as you made your way down the spiraling stairs.

As you edged the cracked door a bit further open with your beak, just enough that you could slip through but not enough to make the old hinges creak.

Shifting out of your devil fruit form after so long felt strange. The study was still enormous, practically a small library, but it seemed a great deal smaller to you as you glanced around at it now. The effect was almost dizzying as you lifted the receiver from the den den mushi and quickly turned the dial on the device before you could change your mind and return to the safety of the bedroom.

You nearly jumped when your call was answered in less than a single ring.

“Rear Admiral Bogard. This had best be important.”

You swallowed, glancing toward the grandfather clock in the corner of the darkened room, illuminated only by the silvery light of the half-moon that drifted through the window behind the desk. It was nearly four in the morning, and he sounded equal parts tired and irate.

“I—I...ah…”

Silence met you as you struggled to form a sentence, to articulate even in your own addled mind exactly why you were doing this.

Bogard saved you the trouble of finishing your thought.

“Are you compromised?” His voice became curt in an instant, far more awake and aware than his initial greeting.

“N...not exactly. Not yet. I…” You swallowed, closing your eyes, and forced yourself to speak quickly, quietly. “He has no weaknesses. The only chance of reducing the threat he poses to the Marines is by offering him Warlord status.”

Several seconds of silence again, followed by a heavy sigh as you clutched the receiver in a death grip, your eyes glued to the door of the study.

“Garp’s going to be thrilled to hear that,” he grumbled, and you gave a quiet hum of agreement to his sarcasm. “You have four days left, are you certain—”

“There’s no point continuing,” you said. “There aren’t any—”

“None,” he said. “None at all?”

“No, there aren’t,” you insisted. “I either have to make the offer or I leave empty-handed. That’s all there is to it.”

“You have your orders, cadet. Four more days, then you make your way to the nearest evacuation point. After—”

“I have to make the offer first. He’ll be suspicious if I disappear and return,” you said. You swallowed as he grew silent again. “He doesn’t let me out of his sight. I made sure he was sleeping before I left to make this call. If any ships show up here he’ll just cut them in half. If anyone makes it onto the island they’ll have to get through the humandrills—”

“Humandrills?”

“The—apes, they sort of act as a natural security system, it’s…” You sighed yourself, running a hand back through your hair. “This was always going to be one potential outcome. I was well aware my life could be danger when I accepted the mission. At the very least I can get the offer across before being killed and potentially avoid the need for anyone else to die.”

Silence.

The silence was worse than being told no, than being scolded for going against orders.

The silence made the pounding of your heart even more deafening in your ears than it already was.

“I’ll inform Garp immediately,” he said finally. “Find some way to make the offer that will allow you to escape quickly should the need arise, and do so within the next four days. If you don’t make contact again before then, or if you aren’t at the evacuation point by the end of the designated day, we are prepared to employ a Buster Call—”

“That—won’t be necessary,” you said immediately, your stomach clenching harder than ever. The thought of an entire armada of Marine ships surrounding the island, blasting everything upon it into oblivion, wasn’t a welcome thought at all. The grizzly scar on your right arm served as a reminder of how dangerous the humandrills could be, how violent the beasts were by nature, but you couldn’t stand the thought of being the reason for an entire species being wiped out. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I suppose we’ll have to trust your judgment on the matter for now,” Bogard said wearily. “You’ve had more contact with Dracule Mihawk over the two months than anyone in our ranks has had over the last decade.” You swallowed, your throat gone dry as you waited for him to continue. “Four days. Make the offer.” Another labored sigh. “And stay safe, cadet.”

“Yes, sir.”

You swallowed again as you quietly hung up the receiver, not willing to clear your throat for the potential of the sound echoing down the hall and rousing Mihawk from his sleep.

You hadn’t necessarily lied. The idea that you could be a weakness was only an idea, not a concrete fact. It was honestly laughable. He had been seen with you in public, after all. He was more than intelligent enough to know that the Marines were likely well aware of his new feathery companion. If he considered you a liability he wouldn’t have kept you around to begin with.

You kept telling yourself this as you shifted back into your devil fruit form and crept silently back into the bedroom on the next floor up, as you climbed the woodwork at the foot of the bed and perched there again.

He had rolled onto his side in his sleep, but otherwise showed no signs of having stirred in your brief absence. You did the only thing you could—you tucked your head back beneath your wing and shut your eyes, trying to slow your heart and still your mind enough to sink into an uneasy sleep.

You had evidently fallen asleep at some point, for when you lifted your head again and fluttered your wings, you found yourself squinting against the sunlight pouring in through the windows in the bedroom, the bed empty and neatly made. The source of the rustling that had stirred you awake became evident when you turned your head to see Mihawk adjusting a loose, ruffled white shirt over his shoulders and pushing the wardrobe shut.

He jolted a bit when you mimed a loud yawn, looking back over his shoulder as you stretched your wings out and ruffled your feathers.

“Wind in your sails,” you squawked out in greeting. He huffed out a sigh, already holding out his arm as you flew the short distance between him and the foot of the bed, your talons wrapping around his forearm.

“Yes, good morning,” he said dryly. He had been up for at least a bit longer than you, you noted as he lifted a mug of coffee from the end table next to the bedroom door and took a sip from it. He shook his arm a bit, a silent indication for you to move to his shoulder, and you quickly obliged the silent request. “You slept in,” he commented. “It’s nearly noon. Lazy creature.”

And yet he was the one who yawned. He gave a small scoff when you imitated the sound as he headed out of the bedroom and down the spiraling stairs of the tower at the eastern side of the castle.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to talk to you over the course of the day as if you understood him, for him to roll his eyes or chuckle at your repetitive responses. You had frankly grown accustomed to the mindless banter, so used to playing your role that it came naturally. It was for this exact reason that when he left the castle and headed in the direction of the forest without saying a single word to you that you piped out a curious, “Whatcha doooin?”

“I thought we’d go for a little stroll this morning.”

That was unusual.

He usually spent his morning flipping through the newspaper, sipping coffee and making dry comments about the state of current affairs.

He glanced at you when you tilted your head.

“There’s a bit of business at the shore I need to see to,” he went on in explanation, reaching over to scratch at the feathers between your neck and the edge of your wing. “Nothing to get your feathers ruffled over, pretty bird.”

“Pretty bird,” you repeated, leaning your head into the light touch—though your stomach did a somersault at his words. Business at the shore. You doubted Bogard would have gone against his word, but there was every possibility that Garp might have made a different decision. You still kept your composure, kept up your act, crooning out as you nuzzled toward his hand, “Pretty, pretty girl.”

“Yes, yes, pretty girl,” he agreed, rolling his eyes, and the small hint of a smile curving his lips as he patted your head set you a bit more at ease.

You were being paranoid, that was all. There was bound to be a morning here or there that didn’t adhere perfectly to his normal routine. It had nothing to do with you, with your business there.

You spent the brief stroll down the path carved through the dense forest whistling to yourself, occasionally mimicking the sounds of other birds throughout the woods, watching for signs of the humandrills moving through the edge of the trees to track Mihawk’s movements as they so often did when he passed through.

Relief flooded through you as you emerged onto the sandy coastline and saw no sign of even a single ship between the shore and the horizon. Yes, paranoid, you were simply being paranoid, there was nothing at all to worry about—

Nothing to worry about, surely, as he stopped at the edge of the water.

As he reached his and across and abruptly wrapped his hand around your neck, pinning your wings down, and pulled you away from his shoulder.

“You’ll have to forgive me, pretty girl, for being overcautious.”

His sharp yellow eyes narrowed as he held you out in front of him, and slowly resumed walking out toward the water.

You weren’t just being paranoid.

“If I’m wrong, I will feel awful about this.”

Your eyes flitted between his and the water below, the gentle tide washing around the ankles of his boots as he crouched down in the shallows.

“But if I’m right…”

You were frozen in terror as he lowered you, his hand tight around your wings to ensure you hand no chance of escaping, toward the water.

As his mouth curled into a small, self-assured smirk, and he plunged you into the shallow depths.

Every ounce of strength left you the moment you touched the foamy brine rolling in over the sand, your body shifting out of your devil fruit form as you lay limp and defenseless and drenched, the waves washing around your head and your shoulders as he tilted his head, lifting his eyebrows as you stared up at him in mounting terror.

In case of something like this.

He shifted, pinning your legs down against the wet sand with one of his knees, giving a small chuckle. His eyes raked over you, your drenched tank top and cargo pants you had worn to ensure there was no sign of your Marine affiliations in case of emergency.

“I suppose we have a lot to discuss.”

You flinched as his hand tightened around your neck and he pulled you up harshly, gritting your teeth as he brought his face mere inches away from yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brush across your lips.

“Don’t we, pretty girl?”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Legacy

Tee Higgins x Ochocinco!Daughter

Description: Tee's been dating one of his idol's daughter behind his back. What happen's when the reader breaks her dad's number one rule? How will Ocho react when he finds out?

a/n: I need to start writing shorter, but I physically can't. I hope it meets your expectations ♡

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: overprotective father figures, language,

Main Masterlist

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Over the last seven months you’ve been happier than ever. You got a promotion at work, finally moved out of your dad’s house and met him. You’d never felt a love like this, he made you feel things you couldn’t have imagined. He didn’t just care about you, he cherished your love, encouraged your goals, and helped you feel safe. Tee made you feel seen in the world, in his world filled with countless others that would give anything for his attention.

Falling in love with Tee Higgins was easy, hiding it from Chad Johnson was the hard part. 

Every Memorial Day weekend your dad throws a small family kickback. At first it was his way of welcoming the summer since us kids were out of school, now that we’re older he does it so we have an excuse to spend time together. This year it’s gonna be in Miami at his new condo and of course he invited all of us, including any plus ones that we wanted to bring. Funny enough Memorial Day falls on the 7 month anniversary of you and Tee being together. The coincidence of the two dates lining up is chilling. 

Your dad was the stereotypical black father growing up, he didn’t want his daughters dating anyone until 35. While that rule was broken days after him stating it, there was one he would lay his life on the line for. 

‘No daughter of his shall ever date an athlete, but more specifically a football player.’

Real funny coming from him, the legendary NFL wide receiver. It’s also funny that your boyfriend and your dad played for the same team with the same number. Yea you’re pretty much dead if he finds out.

Thankfully there may be someone that can help you.

Calling ‘Future Rich Wine Auntie’…

“Hello?”

“I'm in a crisis.” You huff.

“Oh look it’s my poor little sister crying for my help once again, what did you do this time y/n?” She snickered.

“Jicyra, you’re two years older than me.”

“..and wiser and more stable (financially and mentally).” She mumbled that last part, not very well though.

“Hey!”

You could hear her smirk though the phone. “It’s true, I’m not in my 2nd year of residency making no where close to the current average in your field.” Well she didn’t have to rub it in.

“I know but- look we actually do have a problem.”  

“I knew it, you broke your dishwasher.” She cackles.

“Oh my god, I did not break the dishwasher. Why do you say shit like that? I’m talking about Tee and dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh.. wait you still haven’t told him?”

You sigh. “Not that it’s Tee, he knows I’m dating someone.” 

“ Just rip the bandaid off, no harm no foul.” 

“That’s easier said than done, Cyra.”

“Look all I’m saying is you’re making a really big deal out of nothing. Dad ain't gon do shit, plus he considers Tee a second son half the time.”

ੈ♡˳

After getting off the phone with your sister, you started to devise a plan to tell Tee about the party, but you didn’t get far when he ended up walking through the door less than 10 minutes later. “Baby, where you at?”

“In here!” You forced a smile onto your face as he engulfed you into his fresh cucumber scented body. Probably showered at the facility. “We need to talk.” You both sit.

His face dropped and he slowly released you. “What’s up?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just we need to change our 7 month plans a bit.” You kissed your teeth.

He lets out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in, “that’s it. Damn baby you had me thinking this was it.” 

“No, no of course not.” You lean over and plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I would never break up with you like that, or ever. Especially if you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“I mean there was that one dream you had.” His mouth twitched up.

“I’m a very vivid dreamer, I can’t help that. And blame that bitch from the club who tried to get in your pants.” 

“Ok what’s this about then?”

“Remember those end of school parties I told you about?” He nods. “Well my dad has invited us to his next one. It’s memorial day weekend in Miami.” 

His face shifts in realization, “I guess it’s time to tell Ocho.” He surveys the way you chew on your lips and wont meet his gaze. So he grabs your hands, pulls you into his arms and kisses your head. 

“Hey, I got you. Everything’s going to be fine, knowing your dad he’ll make a joke about it, maybe threaten me then we can have good time.”

You look up at him, “you think so?”

“I know so, baby.” You smile and pulls his lips to yours.

ੈ♡˳

You arrive at Miami Dade two days before the party and without your boyfriend, due to him having an early practice the next day. The 3 hour plane ride gave you lots of time to think of a way to break your big news to your dad without him popping a blood vessel or setting anything on fire. You decided to just break the news to him as gently as possible, give him small details then let Tee speak for himself. Sure is putting all the pressure on him a bit harsh, yes. But he asked you out in the first place, so who’s fault is it really? 

A little over a year ago.

It was your first official week in Cincinnati when Danielle, a long time friend of yours, suggested that you join her at a party that the guy she was seeing was throwing. Being so new to the city, you took her up on the offer so you could meet people. When you got to the party, it was covered in orange and black jerseys and it dawned on you that this wasn’t just some party.

“Dani, did you bring me to a Bengals victory party?”

The dark skinned woman removed her coat and smiled. The number 1 printed on the white fabric made you scoff. “I knew if I told you he was a football player, you’d find an excuse not to come.”

“You’re dating Ja’Marr Chase?” The bright smile painted on her lips couldn’t be wiped off even if tried.

“Yes, it's been 3 months and I really like him, so please just stay.” So you let the woman lead you further into the party.

Let’s be clear, your dad’s dumb rule didn’t cause your destain for the football culture, it was the fact that your entire life was centered around the sport. Dad’s a legend to the team, brother played just like him and it’s all anyone ever talked about. You stayed away from sport all together, it didn’t help when you majored in Biology to be a physical therapist, but you weren’t actually watching them play.

The party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, granted you spent most of the time standing by the bar carefully nursing your drink, but the vibes were nice. You’d already met most of the players on the team through your dad and work, so you weren’t surprised when Tee came up to you.

“Dr. Y/n Johnson, I thought you said I’d never see you outside the office.” He smiled discreetly looking you up and down.

“Uno’s dating my best friend.” You said nodding towards the couple on the dancefloor. “She dragged me here without telling me it was for y'all. But I guess congratulations are in order, AFC champs.”

“Oh you know, just another thing to be thankful for, just like you in that dress.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere Higgins, but buy me another drink and maybe I'll bite.”

“Anything for a few more minutes with your fine ass.”

ੈ♡˳

Minutes at the bar turned into hours on the phone then days just to see that charming smile, so yea flattery got him the world. 

Your phone buzzes knocking you out of your daydream.

Mean Ass Bitch: I've been in the airport pickup line for 10 minutes, where you at bitch?

LOML T💜: missed you when i got home mamas, call me when you get there 

You bite your lip hiding the grin that he put on your face as you click on his contact. It rings once before you hear that deep southern drawl come through. “There goes my baby.. How was ya flight baby?” 

There isn't a moment when you don’t feel the warmness in your chest and butterflies in your stomach when it comes to this man. The charm may have gotten him in the door, but it was his goodhearted, loving nature that gave him the key.

“Hi..it was good, I managed to get a nap in so that was nice.” 

“Only the best for my baby. How you feelin? I know your nerves been goin crazy.” 

Just as you were about to answer, you spotted your sister, your very mad sister. “Hold on babe, J looks like she wants to kill me.”

“All good, we can't have that. Call me when you can, I love you.”

“I love you more Tamaurice.” You smirk as you get to her car.

“You the only one allowed to say that, wouldn't be gettin away wit that shit if you weren't so beautiful.” His tone lacks the seriousness he implied as his light chuckles come through the phone.

“Sounds good to me, byeee.” You can’t help laughing as you hang up and put your bags in Cyra’s Audi. 

“I hope you ain’t laughing at me dying in this damn heat waitin for your slow ass.” She mean mugged as you ducked into the car. 

“Nah, it’s because you're dressed like goddamn big bird in that damn sweat suit.” You teased.

“I will kick you out of this car, quit playin’ bitch.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh as she pulls out of the airport traffic. “So how’s my gorgeous real estate queen big sis doing?”

“You know what, I’m good. Charmin’ rich people outta they money for some last leg beach houses that’ve seen one too many hurricanes. I’m very excited to get on this boat with a glass of champagne and just relax.” You nod along as she turns the radio on. “How’s the Tee and dad situation going?”

You take a deep breath and sink further into the seat, “I’ve decided to just let his presence speak for itself. They already know each other, but ‘Tee the wide receiver’ is very different from ‘Tee the man that’s dating his daughter’. I’ll try and ease the idea of him before he gets here, there’s no way I’m taking all the heat from this.”

She scoffed, “you just gon’ let your man take the fall?”

“He has said he’d do anything for me, so it probably won’t be that bad.” You shrugged.

“Yea ok Y/n, I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face.” 

ੈ♡˳

Walking into your dad’s house felt like going through a time capsule, he only bought it a few months ago but the walls and shelves were filled with pictures of us as kids and football memorabilia. “Dad she’s here.” Cyra sings taking your bag down the hallway that you hope has the rooms.

You find him in the kitchen arms deep in hamburger meat. “Uh oh Docta Johnson in the house. Come here and give your old man a hug.” Shaking you head, you humor him as much as you can without touching his hands.

“How you doing old man?”

“I’m alive, I’m happy and I’m excited to meet this boyfriend of yours. Where he at, did you tell him to wait outside? Baby you know I’m good.” He smiles as wide as he possibly can.

“I’m glad to hear it, but he’s not here yet. He has work so he’ll be flying out tomorrow night.” 

He smirks. “At least he has a job.”

Your jaw drops, “that was one time and you said you wouldn't bring it up again.” He chuckles as a frown builds on your face.

“I’m just playing, but this guy already sounds ten times better than what his name.. Jackson! Yea he was a leech.” 

“Okay, that enough boy talk. Want some help there?” You ask gesturing to the mountain of meat on the marble counter.

“I would love some, you always were the better cook. But don’t tell your sisters I said that.” He nods with a hushed voice.

You chuckle walking over to the sink. “You just did.” His brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” Chade and Jicyra tapped his shoulders from behind him. He eyes whitened out.

“What I meant was that Y/n’s good with protein heavy meals. Cy you make a mean salad and Chae you make the best cookies.” He smiled.

“Nice try, I do be throwin’ some flour around tho.” Chade remarks.

“Whatever, we’re off to buy some supplies for the party. Bye!” Then its just the two of you, in the kitchen seasoning about 20 lbs of meat and forming it into decent sized patties.

“So is there anything else I can squeeze out of you about this fine young black man? He is black right?”

You scoff, “what if he isn’t, what’d you say?”

“None, nothing. Your hair look too good for you to be dating a white man.” Your jaw drops for the second time today.

“I can’t. I don’t know why I’m helping you.”

“Aww my poor middle child.” You shove his arm causing him to get raw meat on his shirt. 

“Ok, I deserved that.” He nods, side eying you. “Don’t even try it.”

“You no fun. Come just tell me something about the guy.” 

You bite. “Fine, yes he’s black. He’s tall, kind, smart, sweet and I guess he’s pretty athletic.”

He hums, “athletic huh. What we talkin here NBA, NHL, FIFA?”

“I ain’t giving you no more, you’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll let him speak for himself.” You finish your part then walked out of the kitchen.

“I can read in between the lines Y/n! If Ja’Marr walks in this house tomorrow, I’m beating his ass!”

If he only knew how close he really was.

ੈ♡˳

You ended going out to dinner with your sisters when they got back. It was fun it being just being them, you could gossip and chit chat all you wanted without Ochocinco lurking around. Before bed you and Tee talked all about each other’s day and all the nerves about him meeting your dad. He reassured you that there was nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing your dad could say that changed how he felt about you. It felt good going to bed knowing your boyfriend had no worries about your relationship changing at all.

The next day was pretty chill, dad was too busy with the last minute preparations for the party. So you spent most of your time at the mall with your siblings. Your brother pretty much just groaned about the heat and the amount of time you spent in stores, but you reminded him plenty of times that he could go off on his own and he chose to stay. With that said the four of you had a pretty nice time. Until the ride home, when you could not get away from the Tee questions.

“Don’t you think its weird that they shared the same number and team?” Junior spent 20 minutes just going over the similarities between them like you hadn’t already known how odd it was.

“Jr leave her alone. How’s his stamina though?” Chade was the youngest, as anyone could probably tell with her bluntness.

“No sex questions please, this is a rental and Jr’s not afraid to blow chunks.” Cyra joked.

“Yall act like I don’t have sex.”

“Ok so would like to know what Matt and I did at your New Years Party?” Chade smirked. 

He eyes just about fell out of his head. “You and Matt? Matt my best friend? YOU AND MY BEST FRIEND FUCKED AT MY PARTY?”

That was the end of the questionnaire.

ੈ♡˳

The second you pulled into the driveway you noticed two things: your dad’s SUV was still absent and there was another random car by the curb. 

“Who’s that?” Cyra shrugged in response and just motioned you to get out. Normally someone would’ve taken offense to be thrown out of a car, but then your favorite person in the world got out of the other car.

“Damn, he is tall.” Jr’s comment was deaf to your ears as you ran over to your boyfriend.

“Hey babygirl.” He smiled wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 4 and you weren’t supposed to land until 9. You know what I don’t care.” He lifts you onto the trunk of the vehicle so you’re eye to eye and guides your lips to his. Another feeling you could never get tired of, his plump lips against your glossy ones. Your arms wrap around his neck in an instant to pull him closer into you. You love being able to relinquish all control and just let him move you how he sees fit. He pecks your tropical scented lips once more before helping you down.

“Well that is an image I’m never getting out of my head.” Jr shakes his head and takes your bags out of the car. 

“Let’s go in the house so Y/n can properly introduce us to her beau.” You stay glued to his side as you make your way into the condo. 

As Junior rounds the corner to the bedrooms he stops in his tracks and the bags drop onto the floor.

“JUNIOR MY PERFUME!” Chade shoves him and grabs her bags. “Oh shit.”

Cyra being in no mood for their nonsense, pokes her head down the hall. “What the hell is wrong with you- hi daddy.” You shoot her a panicked look. She responds with an equally panicked shrug. The situation is impossible, there’s only one way to the living room and its to pass that very hallway. 

“This is not how this was supposed to happen.” You whine at the lowest voice you could manage. Which didn’t end up being that low in the end.

“How what’s supposed to happen?” Your dad’s voice bellows out. Tee squeezes your shoulder as the man walks into your view.

“Surprise?” 

He sighs. “Damn, I owe Junior some money.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You blink. All of sudden your brother bursts out laughing and starts dancing around your father.

“I told you! He had his mind set on you bringing either Ja’Marr or Burrow ‘as a wildcard’. I’m ten thousand dollars richer people.” 

“You bet ten racks on who she was dating! Dad I thought you were smarted than this.” Cyra expresses dumbfounded like the rest of you.

“Dad what the fuck? Is that why you wanted to know if he was black or not?” You rolled your eyes before walking past the man into the living room.

“Y/n it wasn’t like that-

“I don’t care, I’m just glad you lost your money to the dumbest person here.” 

His forehead creased, “Was that her way of calling me the new dumbest person?” Both of your sisters nodded. “Got it.”

Then Tee, still standing at the doorway, clears his throat. “Ocho.”

Your dad turns back towards him and pulls him into a ‘bro-hug’. “Well if it isn't the younger taller version of myself. I should’ve known it was you, not because of that but you didn’t exactly take your eyes off of her when she came down to that practice.”

Tee chuckled. “Couldn’t help it, man. I would’ve talked to you the last time you came to practice, but I was under strict instructions not to. When the love of your life tells you something, I make it habit to listen.” Chade nudges you as your face heats up.

“Love of your life huh? Glad to know she’s in good hands, and you have no excuses not to go for my records now. You got a physical therapist on speed dial.” They laugh together.

“See, I told you you were worried for nothing.” Cyra joins you on the couch. 

“Yea I gues you were right.” You mutter bringing a smirk to her face.

“I’m sorry what was that? Did The Dr. Y/n Johnson just admit that she was wrong.”

You pressed your lips together and got up. “You heard me or do you need an audiologist? Cause I can’t help you in that area, you’re just getting old.” You walked over to Tee, quickly grabbed his hand and ducked when a pillow came flying your way.

“Im only 2 years older than you bitch.” You cackled running down the hall to your room.

“Hey, no funny business in my house!” You shut the door and laid back against it trying to calm down while Tee sat on the bed studying you.

“What?” You walk over and stand between his legs.

“I like this side of you.” He sucks in his bottom lip scooting back on the bed.

“Yea, well I know a side you like even more.” You saying climbing onto his lap.

His hands go around your hips and cup your ass. “Oh I like this Y/n very much.” You push him back and place ghost kisses on his lips.

“Woman if you don’t- You go to give him a peck but lightly bite his lip instead. “Fuck.”

He closes the distance between you, sucking in your lips and licking into your mouth. 

Yea you had nothing to worry about at all.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: reblog if you like, comment or request any scenarios you'd like for me to write for our octopus lover♥︎

[wootensmith]

Until We Are Dust

(last one for now. Maybe? Anyway, unambiguously happy)

The prison was no palace, not even by the diminished standards of the modern era, but it was still large. Meant to house seven would-be gods, it had to have space to prevent constant war, corporeal or not. Solas found it a comfort to wander away from Varric at times, congenial though the dwarf remained. Even friends needed distance at times, especially here. So it was Varric who saw her first. Who she first embraced. Solas tried not to wonder if it might have been different, had he been the one closest to the rift when it appeared. He’d heard them, though. 

“You have no idea how good it is to see you, Varric.” Her voice floated through the air as if it had come from Solas’s own memories and he told himself it was a hallucination until Varric responded.  “Maker’s balls, I missed you. Told him you’d come.”

Solas abandoned his fruitless, endless search for some escape route from the prison he’d built and rushed to find them. Varric had the former Inquisitor wrapped in a tight hug. Varric must have heard him, because he let her go and turned toward him. Varric’s eyes were watery, but he only said fiercely, “You owe me a sovereign, Chuckles. No, all the sovereigns. I told you.”

He didn’t bother to respond, staring only at the Inquisitor. She was slightly softer than he remembered, laugh lines a little deeper and like Varric, her hair had faded a little. Except for the spread of the anchor to her shoulder, she was familiar. More sun-beaten, more frayed along the edges, but the same. Dearer, if that were possible. Her grin dipped after a few seconds, in concern for him. She reached toward him with her remaining arm. 

He clenched his own hands behind his back, so that he couldn’t betray himself by responding. “Are you well, emma lath?” she asked softly. He flinched at the endearment and she saw, the rest of her smile disappearing entirely. She dropped her hand, retreating. “I’m sorry. I only meant to—” Varric scowled. “Don’t mind him,” he interrupted her, squeezing her arm. “Being stuck with me made him a little cranky. Let’s get out of here, I hate this place.” That returned her smile and Solas had an unexpected flare of jealousy that he bit back. “You hate every place, Varric,” she said. “Not after here. Could kiss the filthy floor of the Hanged Man about now.” He let her go and stepped through the rippling rift beyond her. 

She half-turned to follow and then looked back at Solas. “Are you coming?” she asked. He could tell she was trying to keep her voice level, but it cracked a little at the end. “I should know the rules for my confinement before I agree, Inquisitor,” he said, hands clenched still tighter behind him. As if it were himself who had slipped the shackles on. “Confinement?” she asked, startled enough to turn fully back to face him. “What confinement?” “I cannot imagine you mean to simply release me after— everything,” he said. She looked around them at his prison, bewildered. “If I meant to keep you confined, why wouldn’t I just have left you here? It seems to have done a competent job so far.” “For Varric’s sake, I presume,” he said, not meaning to put as much biting hurt into his tone as he did.

A sad smile, then. “Solas, if I were only here for Varric, this would have been a much shorter conversation. Did you truly not believe I would come to help you? We are not foes. Or— not on my side, anyway. You won. Do you understand that? You won. It’s gone. The Veil’s gone, every place but here. This was the last remaining pocket. It would be insanity to try and prevent what’s already happened. I need—” She stopped, shook her head, “No, that argument has never persuaded you of anything, has it?” she asked, and he felt the bitterness like a sting. She took a breath. “Thedas needs your help surviving what you’ve done, if that is even enough. I’m asking you to be a gracious conqueror, because the others are—” She shut her eyes. “As cruel as you told me they would be. And I have seen— I have seen you be kind. In better days. That’s all, the only condition. Just a plea that you try to be that again. I know how little my wishes will sway you, but I’m still going to try anyway.” She turned from him and walked out of the rift, leaving it open for him to follow.

She and Varric were already hacking their way back through the dense undergrowth that surrounded the prison when he emerged, widening the very narrow path she’d made on the way in. The rift remained open, the last ragged bubble of the Veil pierced by an emerald scar.

“Please tell me we aren’t walking all the way back to the Lighthouse,” muttered Varric. “Where’s Harding? And Rook?” “No, Dorian’s just a short way ahead with the horses. Couldn’t get them through here,” she gasped, slicing at the thorn bushes ahead. “Rook’s team is— busy elsewhere. I’m sure we’ll see them when we get to their Lighthouse.” Whatever the process to finding and freeing them had been, Solas could see it hadn’t been easy. She was heavily fatigued. He touched her shoulder, then gently took the knife from her when she turned toward him and took her place clearing the way without comment. Varric stopped to raise an eyebrow, but wisely stayed silent. 

When they reached Dorian, he was nervously eyeing a growing mass of spirits that edged the clearing. The four horses unconcernedly grazing behind him. “Void’s heart, what took you so long?” he snapped, as Varric emerged from the bracken. “We’re gathering company and I’m— I’m unsure how to react, given the circumstances.” “Yeah, you and me both, Sparkler,” said Varric, instinctively reaching for the crossbow that no longer hung from his shoulder. “Good thing we’ve got an expert in tow, because he’s probably the only person who knows what to do.” “Oh really?” said Dorian whirling around to face Solas. “And how long’s he planning on sticking around this time?” “Does it matter?” asked Lavellan. “He’s here now, and we can take whatever he’s willing to teach with us when he goes.” She caught the bridle of her horse and struggled to swing herself in the saddle. Dorian saw and helped her up.

“You’re exhausted, sorora,” he said. She gave him a tired smile. “I’m well, Dorian. That was the very last rift, right?” She waved at the green veins peeking from the edges of her armor. “This is just a fancy ornament now.” “And good riddance,” Dorian snapped. 

Varric led a horse to Solas. “Come on, Chuckles. You might have a thousand years to stand around in the woods and talk to spirits, but the rest of us don’t. We have to get back to the Lighthouse before your big brother and sister figure out we’re not here anymore.” “The longer I remain with you, the greater your peril will be, Varric. They will notice I am free eventually and I assure you, their hatred has not cooled over the centuries.” “Then it is better we face them together,” said the Inquisitor, “instead of allowing them to pick us off one by one. And they will. They have. Even you cannot save the world alone, Solas.” “Though you tried for a decade without us, fool,” muttered Dorian, but handed Solas a spare staff that had been strapped to his horse’s side.

He brought it for me, Solas realized. He would not have bothered with an extra staff if they only came for Varric. Varric climbed onto his horse. “Don’t think you are getting away from us that easily. Already told you. You owe me all the sovereigns. I’d be an idiot if I let you wriggle out of that one at this point.” Solas hesitated. They do not know what they ask, he told himself, I could buy them some time if—  “Ma enasalin, fanor,” said the Inquisitor. “Tel elvar’nas.” “It isn’t cruelty to—” “To what? To abandon us?” said Dorian. “It most certainly is. You’ve already tried that. And you have no idea what you’ve done. So get on the void-spawned horse and help us, Solas. Or Elgar’nan won’t have to strike me down, because you’ll get a crack at it first.” Solas relented and let his horse follow Dorian’s.

“Solas?” asked Dorian quietly as they reached the edge of the clearing. “What are we meant to do about them?” The crowd of spirits was indeed large, spreading deep into the tall trees, twining like mist over root and around stone. “You do not need to do anything. They are only curious. Do not lash out and they will likely not harm us.” “Likely?” asked Dorian. “It is a crowd, like any other, human or elf or dwarf. Are there not cutpurses and brigands among other crowds? The majority would be just like you— curious gawkers, a few sympathisers, a few bored passers by. No one with ill intent.” “Forgive my skepticism, but what we’ve seen the past few months have been more mob than crowd.” “Yes,” he agreed, “This transition was not as gentle as I had intended. There has been a great deal of confusion. And I imagine the Evanuris are trying to foment even more. But without the Veil, there is no reason for us to be frightened of spirits, nor we of them. However, if I were to come up to you and hit you in the face, you would defend yourself, would you not? It is the same with these spirits. As long as we do not hit first, they will sate their curiosity and move on.” “Hmm. You go first then,” said Dorian, allowing his horse to fall behind Solas. It left Solas riding beside the Inquisitor.

She was sedate as the spirits parted to let them pass, as if she had seen this before. “Have there been many such crowds, Inquisitor?” he asked. “I imagine they are very curious about you, especially.” “One, when the Veil fell,” she said. “They seemed as bewildered to be seen as I was to know they were watching. They quickly dispersed. There have been one or two spirits on occasion since then but nothing like this. The few that Dorian and I encountered on our way here were not so… insistent. They did help me find your prison, though. For that I am deeply grateful.” “As am I,” he admitted. “They are not all— they are not all simply curious, Solas, Dorian is right about that,” she warned him. “How this forest has remained free of aggressive spirits I do not know. But beyond its borders, there is trouble, spirit and flesh both. We will not be able to spare them all.” “I know. I wish there had been a different way. An easier one.”

“It is done,” she said, her tone curt. “Regret cannot piece the world back together or make those remaining into friends rather than enemies. What we do now should be to that end.” “As you say.”  She fell behind as they cleared the crowd of spirits and let Varric take her place beside Solas. He wondered if there were anything he could say to put her more at ease with him.

She and Dorian were quickly proved correct. It was not an easy trek back to the relative safety of the Lighthouse. Spirits twisted by Blight and by the terror of the people remaining attacked repeatedly. Darkspawn mixed in with them. Varric complained loudly about missing Bianca, but still drove them back as best he was able, swearing the entire time. Dorian had watched in horror for a few minutes as Solas slaughtered swathes of darkspawn without breaking a sweat, but didn’t hesitate to block any that crept up from behind and quickly went back to work after he realized that, indeed, Solas could not fight all of them on his own.

The Inquisitor— ignored him, for the most part. Whether it were for her comfort or for his, Solas wasn’t certain, watching her back and arm twist as spells flung out of her in the thick of battle. She was grim and her strength flagging. They found a dry cave to shelter in for the night and Varric rustled through the saddlebags until he found a deck of cards that the Inquisitor had no doubt placed there for the purpose. Still, she did not laugh at Varric’s wit. He seemed used to this, though, never pausing in his jokes or stories, though the most he could coax from her was a ragged smile.

It appeared an old habit, this sad exchange. She was kind, as always and returned his wordplay on occasion, but she did not laugh. It depressed Solas, that absence of mirth that had been such a vibrant part of her back when— he shut off the thoughts. Dorian and Solas took the first watch. He was grateful for that arrangement, needing the break from Varric and dreading any time alone with Lavellan. Still, he spent most of his watch staring at her sleeping face beside the fire. 

“If you’re waiting for her to approach you, you’re going to be waiting until the end of the world, Solas. Though given current circumstances— I suppose that’s not saying much,” observed Dorian. “I do not expect her to approach me,” said Solas evenly. “I’d hoped she would find another, better. I’d hoped she would be leading her clan in peace by now.”

Dorian snorted a laugh. “Her clan? You think her clan would accept her again? The Herald of Andraste, without the markings her clan had given her? She’s not even a person to anyone anymore. She’s a myth to everyone except you and me and Sera. Maybe Varric. Though I think he’s overawed by her too, he just hides it better than most. Who can love a myth, Solas? There is no other, family or otherwise. You know, two years ago, she told me she wished she could be like Cole. Make everyone forget and disappear. Just— be invisible again. And then she did. Not the forgetting part. But she disappeared almost entirely. Just walked off and vanished. Of course, that was before the anchor had made it to her collar. Made it easier. Couldn’t tell you what she did in that time, though I imagine it was very much like Cole. But when Varric needed her— when you needed her, she turned up. Like she knew that she was the only one who could release you.”

“Was she like this before she disappeared?” he asked. “Exhausted and— and sad? Or is this new?” Dorian sighed. “The exhaustion is new. I suspect it was simply our journey here combined with whatever the anchor is doing to her. The sorrow… as I said, she is not a person to anyone else. It takes a toll. It has improved recently, to be frank. Since her disappearing act. Whatever you thought you were doing, this past decade, whether it was tearing down the Veil or sparing her— it didn’t go as planned. Maybe it’s time to try something different. Maybe it’s time to start listening to the people who love you, because we’re the only ones who know you’re a person too. And if you walk away from us… well, I’m guessing you remember how that goes.” 

He witnessed what Dorian had claimed when they returned to the Lighthouse. Varric had his pick of bunkmates, Rook’s team delighted at his return and eager for the stories he could tell. Dorian slid easily into a friendship with both Emmrich and Bellara discussing the changes in magic that the collapse of the Veil had brought almost immediately and he ended up taking up temporary quarters in Emmrich’s study. Rook had taken Solas’s old rooms but was out with a few of the others on their return, which left Solas the option of retaking them. Nobody approached the Inquisitor with either welcome or condemnation. He could see the awe and hesitance in their faces whenever she did address them, but none of them noticed how reluctant she was to intrude and how outside of everything she was. He wished he could offer her something he no longer had the right to offer and stayed quiet, hoping she would find her place. 

After exploring the Lighthouse on her own, as much as she was certain wouldn’t violate another’s privacy, she returned to him. Held herself stiffly as she asked him her favor.  “I understand this is your sanctuary,” she said, uneasily. “As much as anyplace is,” he answered, looking up from the notes he was scrawling for himself.  “I— would like your permission then, to read the books here. You know I haven’t had the most— accurate education about the Evanuris. Before— it didn’t matter before. It could change nothing. But now that we are to face them— if you have better information— I would like to be prepared, if possible.” Her halting request made his heart ache.

“You do not need my permission V— Inquisitor.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate anyone’s effort at learning. You asked for my aid, did you not? All that is here will be turned toward our common goal. You do not need— please,” he shut his eyes, “it is uncomfortable enough that you have called me a conqueror. Please do not ask my permission for— a— anything. It is— disturbing to think of myself so. To think of you of all—” he cut himself off. Held out his hand toward the bookshelves with a tight smile. “Please, anything that may be of use is at your disposal.” And then he’d fled the library and worried that his fleeing had caused her fresh hurt but had no idea how to ease it. He’d returned very late, thinking he would have the library to himself, that there’d be no risk of seeing her and stumbling through another awkward conversation. 

But he’d found her fast asleep in one dark corner. It was obvious she hadn’t fallen asleep mid-book, though a small stack sat beside her. She had made herself a tiny camp, her head resting on her saddlebags and a ragged cloak still spattered with ichor covering her. He realized then, that none of the others had taken her in. Likely hadn’t even thought of it. Immortal, bloodless, myths don’t need to sleep either. Or if they do, they magic themselves away, don’t they? He thought. This wouldn’t do. For either of them. When Rook returned, she would not be pleased to find him invading what she obviously now thought of as her rooms. He needed to build something more appropriate. Well, he thought, have I not shaped the Fade to my purpose for centuries? Another few rooms will not be so taxing. He left the Inquisitor undisturbed in the library and focused his efforts on expanding the Lighthouse. 

He fought himself, afraid of exposing how much he still yearned for her, trying not to put too much of what he knew she loved into it, trying to pretend it was just an empty space. Just room to grow, regardless of the occupant. The others’ rooms though— Varric’s was warm and comfortable, massive fireplace, comfortable writing desk, large card table. Dorian’s fine and temperate, filled with arcane murals and experimental equipment. But hers— empty. A question without any answer. 

Varric found him still struggling to alter it.  “Expanding, Chuckles?” “Attempting.” “Why? We won’t be here long.” “You should still be comfortable for as long as the stay is.” Varric stared skeptically at the cold stone room in front of them. “And this is your room?” “The Inquisitor’s. She should not be sleeping on the floor of the library.” “Why do you want her sleeping in your prison then, Solas?” “I— don’t,” he protested, realizing it was the exact effect he had recreated. “Hmm. I see. That would explain why you made rooms for only three instead of four. You shouldn’t be punishing her even if you still think you deserve it yourself, you know.” “I’m not—” “You even talked with her yet? Not just—” he waved at the blank room. “Not just about bunking together, which is obviously on your mind—” “It’s—” “— but about anything?” Varric pushed through, ignoring him. “Because I’m pretty sure she resigned herself to not having a good ending to this story years and years ago. But I’d guess it’s still in your power to make a couple of the days in between now and then pretty happy. If you try. If— If that’s even something you care about doing anymore.” Solas didn’t answer and Varric gave up with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Anyway, I appreciate the space. And the desk, even if I’m not sitting still long enough to write anything. Old habits, eh?” he wandered off to his new room.

She was not in the library after he gave up on the project, settling for a very large, very bland room with a small cot shoved into one corner and a carved chest at it’s foot, one that he remembered her admiring when they had visited Hawen’s clan so long ago. That was all he trusted himself to presume. The rest… he found he had no real idea what she would enjoy any longer. No real idea what he, himself, would have either, if he’d allowed himself that. But a cot was better than the library floor, he reasoned, and she could alter it if she wished. Her saddlebags and cloak were not in the corner of the library either and he had a few moments of anxiety before finding Dorian.

“Is she gone?” he asked, without preamble. Dorian looked up from the small pile of red lyrium crystals he’d been examining. “The Warden needed her. Got word of a darkspawn swarm near an old thaig. There are people living there and they went to help push them back. You know how hard it is for her to stand still for long.” “Why didn’t anyone call me?” Solas asked. “I would have gone.” “We didn’t pluck you out of that oubliette to smack darkspawn, Solas, adept as you may be at it. We need you to figure out how to fight the Evanuris.” “But you allowed the Inquisitor to go?” Dorian scowled at that. “Allowed? She’s not my trained bird.” “You know that is not what I meant.” “And you know that if I really believed she were in danger I would be right beside her. She’s as competent as she ever was during the Inquisition. More. And this— extra activity is healthy for her. For that sadness you were talking about. Makes her feel… like she exists, like she matters to someone.”

He plonked down the pair of forceps he’d been holding, frustrated. “Look,” he said, with a bit more patience, “I’m not happy you did what you did, I don’t think I will ever forgive you. It is fortunate for you that she can. Has. But the honest truth is that this is the most free she’s been since the Breach. If there’s one iota of good in all this, it’s that. Since you took down the Veil, there are no more rifts. There’s no more patching to do with the anchor. She just herself. And when someone values her just for herself it’s— good. It’s still not enough, they still treat her like a golem or something, but she knows now that it’s not because of her mark. Your mark. That it’s all her own doing, regardless of you. I’m certainly not going to be the one to take that away from her. You want to worry about her? I’m glad. Means we’re not all ants to you. But I’m not the person you should be talking to about it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out this crud your buddies have been leaving in their wake.” He waved at the pile of crystals and bent back over his work.

Solas went back to the empty room he’d tried to make for her. The blandness was an insult. An anonymous inn room. As if she were, indeed, not a person. He had to fix it. He stared at the blank walls, at a complete loss. Would she want it to feel like an aravel? A hammock or a quiet field under the sky? But she’d left her clan. Like her rooms in Skyhold? That, too, she had abandoned when the Inquisition dissolved. He knew how he’d have done it if she still loved him. A skylight for stars and a scarred wooden table with a shelf for drying herbs and a half-dozen books opened to old drawings, waterstained at the edges. That ridiculous four-poster that had been a gift of the Empress lurking in the corner where they’d never slept and the pile of furs where they had— but this was not then. And most of that had been trappings of the Inquisition. Something foisted upon her. How much of it would be what she would have chosen? The room stayed sparse and pale.

She startled him, still sitting there in the center. “Solas? Varric said you needed something,” she offered from the doorway. He turned to look at her, gave her a rueful smile. “I only wanted you to have a space here. The library floor cannot be comfortable.” She looked at the rickety cot in the corner. “Ah. Thank you,” she said. “I wish that I could make it more to suit you, but I find every time I try to imagine what you would most enjoy, it always ends up as the way it was when we were… I apologize, Inquisitor. I cannot seem to avoid interposing my own ideas. Perhaps it would be better if you told me what you want without… me.”

She walked over to him, dumping her saddlebags near the door. Sat down in the middle of the floor, close to him, but not close enough that they were touching.  “Who in the world told you that any version of what I wanted was ‘without you?’” she asked, staring at the wall in front of them rather than look at him.  His heart felt as if it would fly from his chest. “Hmm,” was all he said. The muscle in the side of her jaw pulsed. An old familiar signal that she was very distressed. “This is— a quiet space away from the others,” she said, concluding that he would say nothing more, “It’s just what I need. Thank you.” He knew it was a lie.

“It’s been ten years,” he said quietly. She glanced at him and then quickly away, stricken. “Ah. Yes. I’d thought it wouldn’t seem so long to you, in the grand scheme… I shouldn’t have assumed. Thank you for the space, truly. I’ll leave you be and I’m certain Rook will be able to find an assignment for me elsewhere shortly.” She began picking herself up to stand and he stopped her, his hand heavy on her knee.

“It has been ten years, and I have missed you every single moment. These years were… interminable. I know I have no right to ask… don’t go. Please.” She shook her head and her eyes filled and then all of her pent-up grief burst out. “Davrin said it looked like you’d lived here alone all this time. I am so sorry, emma lath, I failed you. What is it I could have said to persuade you? I know this destruction wasn’t what you planned. I would have aided you if you’d only explained what the—” “You didn’t fail,” he protested, pressing his palm to her cheek. “There was nothing I could hear— I didn’t want this life for you. For any of my friends. And now you are entangled in it. This wasn’t the plan, no, but the Veil had to be removed even if everything had gone perfectly. There still would have been some destruction and you have suffered too much already.”

“Then help me fix it,” she said. “Not the Veil— we existed before it did, there must be a way to survive. Help me find it. Help me shield who we can.” “I will. I am. But I would have done what I could without involving you.” She smiled but it was bitter. “I know there are few who remember I am, indeed, of this world, but I am. Born in Free Marches dirt just like the rest of my family. I am involved, whatever your wishes might have been.”

She pulled his hand gently away from her face, placed it carefully back on his own leg and released him. “Solas— there is no portion of my life I want to be ‘without you’ as you say. But if it is you who wishes for this Lighthouse and this battle to be without me, or if you fear I will complicate things by repeating unwanted bids for your affection, be easy. I will never push. And if it is more comfortable for me to fight on a different field with different companions, that can be arranged. But you should know that I will be on a battlefield somewhere, because this is my world, too.”

He watched her, looking for some doubt, some recrimination, but there was none. Only despair because she expected another refusal, of that he was certain. “Then I would have it be on the same battlefield. Ar lath ma. But after everything, all that has occurred, I cannot believe that I deserve—” She pressed her fingers to his lips to stop him. “It has been ten years, fanor,” she said with a small smile, dropping her hand, “and I am old enough to know you will never believe me if I argue. Instead, I will only ask, what of the happiness that I deserve, after all this time? Would you deny me the chance to stand with the person I love?”

It disarmed all the old arguments he’d repeated to himself for years. He could resist no longer, gathering her up into a kiss as if he could melt into her. The room around them altered, an expansive starry sky overhead, the crackle of a campfire nearby and two bedrolls overlapping one another. “Stay, Vhenan,” he begged her, his thumb soothing that muscle in her jaw, trying to erase the grief it held. Her arm around him tightened, just slightly. “Sule ar’ane nisathe, emma lath,” she breathed against his lips. He nodded. “Until we are dust,” he agreed.

(will I write more or just lurk for another two years? Who knows? The Shadow knows. But the 300k plus words I've already put down says I'll probably be back... unless some new character in Veilguard becomes my obsession)

[jcollinswrites]

ROs heights?

Ehem, excuse me while I dig through a seven thousand meter high pile of my notes.

Right. Yes. I have that written down somewhere but I can't find it atm lmao. I'm a messy writer and I should feel ashamed. But I don't.

Anyway, I was going to put a character description page in the Stats by the next update, so you'll be able to find the exact heights there!

Here is an approximation:

Narmer is somewhere between 190-200 cm (6'2-6'6 or something I'm not sure in imperial). Anyway, he's a big boy.

Qenna is kind of short. A bit shorter than average height. Male Qenna is I imagine around 170-175 cm. Female Qenna is 160 or something like that.

Zaia is around average. 175-180 cm for male, 170-175 for female. Then again, Zaia can change shapes, so this is not overly relevant for them.

And yes, I know that people were shorter back then. Imagine this as a translation for modern expectations.

There are two more ROs you haven't met yet. If you are very curious, I'll put them under a wrap. Don't look if you want to avoid spoilers.

Tabiry is the female gender-locked RO. She's tall, between 180-190 cm.

Ahmose will be the last RO. They are Narmer's child, and they inherited their father's genes, so they are relatively tall too.

[cait-with-luv]

Little Leopard [2]

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Header Credit: Me

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst(And I mean Angst), Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Past Abuse(Mental, Physical and Sexual), Eating Disorders, Depression, Anxiety, Explicit Language.

Word Count: 2.5k

Prev ¦ Next

------

The boys sit in silence, wondering what to say to each other about the situation. They were all in shock. Too stunned to speak. They had a hybrid in their house. Injured and very much traumatised. Where do they go from here? They didn’t know. Were you legally adopted? From the black market? How did you end up where you were? There were so many questions that needed answers but they knew they’d not get an answer until they had your full trust, it was clear you’ve been through hell and back for a long time. 

“So…Where do we begin? We’ve got a lot to think and talk about.” Jimin murmurs sipping on his glass of water, tapping his fingers against the glass nervously, he and the boys had saved many hybrids before, but never has he seen someone in such a condition you were in and never had he had a strong attachment to one so fast either. In his whole career, he had never seen a hybrid like you. Or even in the condition, you were in. He was horrified. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe. Make you happy.

“Let’s start with where and how you found her Namjoon and Jimin. Talk us through that.” Hoseok says softly now home to talk about the situation at hand, his notebook out ready to take notes so he had everything to start an investigation. He couldn’t believe what he had heard when Namjoon called him and explained what was going on. He had yet to see you but from the description, Seokjin had given him he knew it was bad.

“Well, it was Jimin who noticed something wasn’t right. We come out of the building and he said he saw some guys dump something in the alleyway. I told him it was probably nothing but he was so sure something wasn’t right. When we looked we saw her there curled up barely conscious, bleeding heavily and her clothes were all dirty and basically like rags. I told Jimin to go get a blanket out of the car and when he had gone, I told her everything was going to be okay, that she was safe but just let out this weak laugh and said to me that’s what they all say, telling me to finish the job, to end it and make it quick…” Namjoon says trailing off just feeling his stomach churn again repeating the words you had pleaded to him.

“God, what did they do to her? She must have been suffering for such a long time.” Jungkook frowns, feeling his heart clench at the thought of what you had been through. He couldn't imagine ever hurting someone like this. People really are cruel.

"One day hopefully she will tell us but right now we need to give her space and let her build trust with us." Seokjin says with a small pout on his lips as they all agree with him.

"Jimin, did you see the guys who just dumped her there? Could you describe them?" Hoseok asks as Jimin sucks in a breath, brows furrowed as he begins to think.

"I saw them but not much. It was too dark to see them completely. There were two of them. One was quite tall the other just a bit shorter…uhh both were all in black, like trench coats, the tall guy was brawny whilst the other was very slim. I didn't see their faces. That's all I've got, I'm sorry." Jimin says sheepishly but smiles softly as Hoseok shakes his head at him and ruffles his hair.

"It's better than nothing Jiminie."

"Where do you think she's come from? Fight ring? Auction? Show pet for some cruel rich person? She could have come from anywhere with her being such a rare hybrid and being a strong predator at that." Yoongi sighs in frustration. Either way, wherever you came from was inhumane and they were going to do everything in their power to get you justice. To prevent this from happening to another hybrid.

"No idea but we start in one section and eliminate them until we find the suspect. We'll get to the bottom of this. I promise." Hoseok says, closing his notebook before looking around and realizing somebody was still missing.

"Where's Tae? He's been gone for a while."

"I'm right here, I'm fine. She's awake now, I sat with her whilst she ate but at a distance. She's terrified and doesn't trust any human. She thought I'd drugged the food. She's never even eaten human food before. She's starving. Is it okay if I give her a second plate?" Taehyung says quietly and Seokjin nods immediately, quick to fill the plate up again but this time with more on it so you had a big plate to help fill you up and gain nutrition.

"Of course, she needs all the nutrition she can get. She's allowed as much as she wants." Seokjin says before handing him back the plate full of food. 

"Here give her this. It's electrolytes. It will help hydrate her too." Jungkook says quickly popping an electrolyte tablet into a glass of water and handing it to Taehyung. They wanted to provide to you in any way they could. Nurse you back to health. Health you most likely haven't had in a very long time.

"Has she spoken properly to you yet?" Namjoon asks hesitantly and Taehyung shakes his head disheartened.

"No. Not properly. Her voice is so soft though. It's pretty. I could listen to her for hours. The only thing I've gotten is her diet was pellets, she asked why I was giving her human food and her name. Her name is Y/N. It's such a pretty name like her." Taehyung sighs. He felt a deep attachment to you and he couldn't understand why.

"It is indeed. Yoongi can check the system now for any hybrids registered under that name and her hybrid breed. Do her bandages need changing?" Jungkook asks and Taehyung shakes his head.

"No not yet but will most likely need to later tonight." 

Taehyung takes his leave and Yoongi had already opened his laptop to search the system. It couldn't wait until tomorrow. The sooner they started. The better. They needed to see if you were in the system and under an ‘owner’. 

“I can’t guarantee I’ll find anything but it’ll be a start of ticking things off. If someone treats a Hybrid like this, then they’re not going to want their name in the system.” Yoongi sighs as he begins searching the system. He hoped he found something, even if it was the smallest piece of information. They needed something.

—-

“Hey Y/N, I’ve got you more food and some water…” Taehyung says frowning as he enters the room and sees you sat staring at yourself in the mirror that hung across from you. You looked vacant and empty. As if there was no one behind your eyes. He was concerned.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” He asks slowly placing the drink and food on the bedside table beside you before moving away so he didn’t scare you and kneeling so his height didn’t intimidate you as you look at him. What was going on in that sweet head of yours?

“I should not eat anymore s-sir. I will gain too much weight. I was greedy. I should have not eaten the first one.” You say and Taehyung’s breath hitches. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He never wanted you to call him sir ever. He felt horrified at the thought that you weren’t skinny enough or that eating the plate of food he had given you was greedy. You had suffered terribly.

“Don’t call me sir kitty, you never have to use that here. Just call me Taehyung or Tae. You are an equal here okay? Nobody is ever going to belittle you or hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was not greed eating that food, that is hunger and that’s okay. Hunger is normal and everybody feels it. It’s okay to gain weight, you have to because right now you’re something called malnourished, which means you’re very underweight and haven’t had the nourishment you need so please, don’t restrict yourself or feel any guilt eating. No one will be mad at you.” Taehyung says softly, he felt angry. So incredibly angry at the people who did this to you. He wanted them punished for it and when they were, he’d feel no remorse.

He could see you weren’t convinced. Not at all. Your trauma and forced bad habits were dug so deep into you that it was going to be something hard to break. He knew that just one speech wasn’t going to be enough, that through this process there were going to be good days and bad days. He couldn’t convince you on his own. It was time to introduce you to the others. Prove to you that they all weren’t like the evil humans you have met.

“Come with me, you don’t have to trust me just yet but please come downstairs with me, meet the others so I can show you we aren’t like others and if you feel too uncomfortable or overwhelmed you can come back here straight away okay? You have my word.” Taehyung says, carefully holding his hand out for you to take giving you the sweetest smile you had ever seen. You were hesitant. So damn hesitant. What if it was a trap? What if they hurt you? But the longer you stared at him and listened to his steady heartbeat the more you believed he wasn’t lying. So you took the risk. You placed your hand in his so carefully, shivering at the sensation of his warm gentle hand engulfing yours as he helps you up and begins to guide you down the stairs and into the dining room where six other men sat, pausing their conversation and staring at you and Taehyung in surprise. You were startled by the sudden attention, letting out a tiny squeak and slipping behind Taehyung to hide. Their hearts melt at the sight, you were so cute and small.

“We’ve come down to talk to everyone so she can meet you all. To see that she is safe in this home. Kitten won’t eat anymore because she thinks she isn’t allowed to gain weight. Come on Y/N you’re okay, let’s sit down to talk, no one will hurt you or shout okay?” Taehyung murmurs before gently guiding you to sit down.

“Hello, you’ve already met Tae, I’m Namjoon and this here is Jimin. We were the ones that found you can you remember?” Namjoon says kindly giving you a small smile. Right off the bat, you could tell this man was a little reserved and by the tone of his voice, he held a lot of authority. It intimidated you slightly. You shake your head, keeping your head cast down and eyes down at your hands that you nervously fiddled with. You couldn’t remember a thing.

“That’s okay! It was a hard time for you, it’s okay for you to not remember it or even want to remember it.” Jimin adds he felt awful. He could see how uncomfortable you were.

“Anyway there’s Yoongi, Seokjin, Jungkook and Hoseok. We’re all here to look after you and keep you safe alright?” Taehyung continues as you nod curtly, giving each of them quick glances so you could memorise their names to the face, all of them giving you a reassuring smile. You were stunned at how handsome they were. They were nothing like your past owners so far.

"This is a safe space Y/N. Nobody is going to shame you, hurt you, or anything like that, we don't expect you to trust us immediately and that's okay, we'll earn it. No matter how long it takes. You are cared for and safe here. You are not a pet or anything like that. You're still human just like us at the end of the day. We want to protect you and get you justice towards whoever did this to you okay? Do you understand?" Namjoon says gently sitting across from you ensuring there was distance so you felt comfortable. He wanted to give you space you've probably never had before. Let you come to him. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you.

"Yes, master. I understand. I promise not to make you angry." You say in a hushed voice, keeping your eyes down. You had been taught to never be loud or look your superior in the eyes as a sign of respect. And with how much authority this man held you certainly didn’t want to anger him. You didn't want to mess up. They had been so nice to you, you feared one wrong move then they would mistreat you. The boys felt nauseous hearing you sound so submissive and fearful. Calling Namjoon master.

"Little cub. We are not you're masters. You never ever have to call us that. We aren't like the others. We don't own you, we don't want anything from you nothing at all. You are your own person. Just call us by our names. We aren't superiors, we're just like you. Human. Yes, you may be part leopard too but you are also a human being. You can speak louder and freely. You're thoughts, opinions and feelings are all valid in this house okay? You can look at us. Nothing will happen. We won't ever get mad at you okay? That is something we promise." Yoongi says softly feeling his heart sink into his stomach. You have so much trauma and fear built up that you really did think all humans were the same. And at that moment he knew. They all knew. They were going help you conquer it all and find the person you really were behind it all and they couldn't wait to see it, the real you. They were going to protect you no matter what it took.

“O-Okay Mas- I-I mean Yoongi. I’m sorry.” You fret looking up terrified that you had upset him by disobeying a rule he had given you but nothing happens he just gives you a smile and nods at you in understanding. It was going to be a hard adjustment for you they understood that.

“There are no rules here sweetpea okay? You can roam this house freely, do whatever you please we just ask you one thing. Communicate with us. Whenever you want or need anything. If you want to ask something or talk to us about anything, you can. We’re here to listen and help provide for you.” Hoseok says and you stare in surprise. Why were you being given so much freedom? 

“Like we said little one, we aren’t like those horrible people, we fight for your rights, protection and freedom. You will not be treated illy here. Please at least trust us on that.” Jungkook coos and you nod slowly, you were so overwhelmed by what they were doing so far, the kindness, gentleness, freedom and respect they were giving you. It all felt too good to be true. But as you stared at every single one of them you knew. You knew they were being truthful.

Maybe you could trust them after all.

-----------

I'm back! Sorry it has took so long! Hopefully I will update more consistently now that everything in my life is back in my control!

I do apologize if this isn't up to your expectations, I'm a bit rusty so bare with me!

Taglist (CLOSED TEMPORARILY) IF I HAVE MISSED YOU OUT OR YOU HAVE CHANGED YOUR USERNAME PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

@luciferslvst @pb-n-juju @kimsaerom @tinyoonsblog @mintyoonjisworld @malewife-supremacy @army4eve3r @mageprincess7 @dreamamubarak @ot7nem @haleypearce @yoongiigolden @kinkyduuh @victoryscreech61 @driftapart @carolinexkpop @duskiebaby @devilsadvcte @colourlyhobbit @toughbook @ah2002 @beeeee06 @euphoriayongbok @bbgniecyy @linospot @jaiuneamesolitaiire @whotfisclaire @rich-man-v @bangtanxberm @pathetic-brat @murkydoesnotloveyou @cheychey-4788 @kookiesandmilk-blog @atinygracie @echo-ethe @yo-alli @blancflms @scarlet1722 @jamlessstars @theblueslytherin @rosquilleta @slash4slashers @chieftoadturkeynickel @m4r1eluvr @cath-fach

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Time for a little reveal, but only a little...

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3449

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5

Over the next four years, she only briefly saw the Winchesters a handful of times, none of them long enough for any sort of challenge Dean could come up with. Although, she and her father visited her Uncle at least once a year, staying a few days each time.

William still hadn’t let her go out on a hunt on her own yet but he did let her start coming with him to help when she turned thirteen. He had picked something easy for her to cut her teeth on, a simple salt & burn. She’d quickly put together the pieces of the case within only a few hours, managing to save a woman’s life in the process. By the time she was fourteen, she was going with him on all his cases, not just doing the research at whatever motel they happened to be staying in. 

“Hey Uncle Bobby,” she said as he greeted them in the driveway one cold November morning.

“You’ve grown munchkin,” he chuckled.

“Tends to happen after four years,” she replied, smirking a little.

Bobby glanced over at William, who just smiled and shook his head a bit, “Your room is still how you left it from the last visit,” he told her.

“God, those cat posters aren’t still hanging up are they,” she asked, groaning slightly.

“I didn’t change anything, if that’s what you’re askin',” he chuckled.

She just shook her head as she went inside. Her Uncle’s house hadn’t changed any, except for the size of the stacks of books, which had grown since her last visit, almost a year ago now. Maria set her bags down on her bed and looked around her room with her hands on her hips. 

“God, I was such a kid,” she mumbled before she began taking down old posters from her childhood.

Maria redid her room, then took a step back, looking satisfied with the outcome. At least it didn’t look like a ten-year-old’s room now. She unpacked her things, knowing they were staying for a week, at minimum. In the middle of setting up her desk with her books, she heard the purr of the Impala outside. She looked toward her closed door, raising an eyebrow. It’d been almost a year and a half since she’d seen them last, slightly curious how they had changed or if Dean was still annoying. She shrugged her shoulders though and went back to setting up her desk. Her father had said she didn’t have to do any lessons today, due to how long they’d been on the road, but she liked her routine and learning. She slipped her blue flannel on, leaving it unbuttoned over her t-shirt to keep her arms warm, finding her Uncle’s a little more chilly than she remembered.

“SIS!!” Sammy yelled as he rounded the corner and barreled into her room, nearly tackling her in a hug.

She laughed hard as she wrapped him up in a hug, then spun him around, “Little brother, I missed you,” she told him happily before she set him back down, ruffling up his hair.

“Stop,” he giggled, pushing her hand away, “How long are you staying?”

“Probably a week. What about you?” she asked, smiling down at him. He was still shorter than she was by a few inches.

“Don’t know. Dad didn’t say,” he replied.

Her smile quickly faded as she turned around and looked in her doorway, almost glaring at him, “Dean,” she said flatly.

“Maria,” he replied, leaning on her doorframe, arms crossed.

“Why do you two act like you hate each other?” Sammy asked, looking between the two of them.

Neither of them spoke, but Dean smirked before he pushed off the wall and went back into the living room. Once he was gone, she looked back over at Sammy and sighed, “I don’t hate him, Sammy. I just think he’s annoying,” she tried to explain.

“Why?” he asked her, tilting his head a bit.

“It’s hard to explain,” she sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Can you try?” he asked, still curious.

She glanced up at him, “He always wants to beat me, at everything. I mean, we could work together. He’s really good at a lot of stuff, but…” she trailed off, glancing at her doorway before she continued, “... he thinks girls shouldn’t hunt cause boys are better at it.”

“Is that why he keeps challenging you?” his curiosity getting the better of him.

“You’ve got a lot of questions this time,” she chuckled as she looked into his adorable eyes.

“Sorry sis, curious, that’s all,” he giggled.

“It’s good to be curious, that’s how you learn things. I guess he’s mad, cause I’m a girl and I keep beating him, no matter what he comes up with. It’s not like I’m gonna let him win, then he wouldn’t learn anything. A monster won’t let you win when you go against one, so I won’t just let Dean win either,” she explained, knowing he was old enough now to understand.

“That makes a lot of sense,” Sammy replied as her words sunk in, “So… in a way… you’re helping him get better at hunting,” he concluded.

She chuckled a little, Sammy really was adorable, “Yup, just like my dad taught me.”

The two of them headed back out, Maria went right to the kitchen, looking through what her Uncle had available in the way of food. Thanksgiving was only a few days away and she noticed he’d stocked up on several things for it, making her smile. She grabbed out two packages of chicken, setting them on the counter to defrost for dinner. Then she headed to the cabinets, looking for ingredients for gravy. Again, she smiled to herself and shook her head a bit in disbelief seeing what he’d stocked up on before she headed into the living room.

“You’re the best Uncle Bobby,” she said happily.

“What am I? Chop liver?” her father asked, being playful.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Maybe I should have said he was the best Uncle then,” she replied, in a bit of a smartass way.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, glancing over at William, “She got mouthy huh?” 

William laughed, “This is nothing, but she knows where the line is.”

Dean rolled his eyes and went outside, wanting nothing to do with her. He was sixteen now and all hormones but all he saw when he looked at her was that annoying five-year-old that had beat him in a challenge of throwing a rock at a target almost ten years ago. He didn’t want to be at Bobby’s for a week because she was there. 

“What’s up with Dean?” William asked John after Dean had gone outside.

“He’s sixteen and according to Sammy, Maria is his rival, since they were five. He’s mad he can’t beat her at anything,” John chuckled.

William glanced at his daughter before he looked back at John, “She won’t let him win John.”

“I know,” he said plainly, “I hope she never does. It’ll teach him to get better. Hone his skills.”

William thought about what John said and sighed, “You’ve got a point there.”

“I pulled out dinner,” Maria interjected, as respectfully as she could, as it had been one of the reasons she’d gone into the living room.

“Oh? Whatcha cookin this time?” Bobby asked her, leaning back in his chair.

“Chicken with mashed potatoes, homemade gravy, and probably corn, and thank you, for having all the ingredients already,” she replied, smiling.

“Well, what kind of Uncle would I be if I didn’t keep those things on hand, knowing you’d be coming by?” he asked her.

She knew he was being playful, but she also had those teenage hormones going through her as well, they just came out differently, “Probably the worst uncle ever,” she replied, quite the smartmouth.

Sammy was shocked by what she’d said but didn’t say a word, the adults just chuckled, “Mouth,” her father said, somewhat sternly.

“Sorry, Pappa, and I’m sorry Uncle Bobby,” she said quietly, realizing her mouth had run away again, “I’m gonna go work on my lessons.”

“Get something to eat first,” her father told her, to which she nodded.

She cursed at herself in her head as she made herself a sandwich before taking it to her room to eat. It was her biggest issue, her mouth, and some of the things that came out of it. Maria didn’t have emotional issues or confidence issues. Well, she hadn’t had them before. This visit was going to change that for her in ways she wouldn’t fully understand until she was much older. She had a mouth on her, even if she didn’t cuss, not yet anyway. William had pondered a lot on how Alarra would have handled it, although, he couldn’t think of a way other than reminding her when it happened. Maria read one of her books on lore while she ate her sandwich, not wanting to interact with the adults at the moment. Since she had hit thirteen, she wanted more and more alone time, even away from her father. 

“Have any more of her powers surfaced?” Bobby asked William quietly since Sammy had headed outside to wherever his brother had gone.

“No, but she’s perfected the few she does have, so heads up on that,” William warned them.

“So, no sneaking up on her then?” John asked.

“Nope. She knows when you get about fifteen feet away now,” William explained.

“Dean’s not gonna like that one,” John chuckled.

“Is it a hearing thing or can she just sense someone’s presence?” Bobby asked.

“I think it is more of sensing someone’s presence. She’s been using it over the last year, going out on hunts with me,” William answered.

“She’s been killing things for the last year?” Bobby asked, not sure what to think of a thirteen-year-old hunting, even with her father.

“Yup, and she’s really good at it. Hell, she saved my neck a couple times now,” William replied, smiling a little as he thought back.

“Damn,” John almost exclaimed, slightly surprised.

The boys came back into the house and went straight for food. Dean was thankful that Maria wasn’t around. He’d still been thinking of another challenge he could win. Dean had attempted to convince his dad to let him challenge her to a race with the Impala and the truck, but his dad had put a stop to that one. He also had no intention of repeating any of their past challenges. The adults quickly changed the topic, hearing the boys in the kitchen. Maria just rolled her eyes from her room, deciding not to take care of her plate yet, knowing Dean was in the kitchen.

“It’s gonna be a long week,” she mumbled, flipping the page in her book.

She came out around four so she could start dinner, determined not to let Dean ruin something she enjoyed. When she went to use the sink so she could wash the chicken, she saw the boys’ dishes from lunch still sitting there. 

“Dean! Sammy!” she hollered from the kitchen, trying not to sound as pissed as she felt.

Sammy came running, but Dean hadn’t budged from where he sat in the living room, “You okay sis?” Sammy asked her.

She instantly calmed down hearing him, “Hey, thought we had an agreement when we were here together,” she said after she turned to look at him, managing a soft smile, “Remember, you keep up on your dishes so I can cook dinners?” she asked, sounding nicer than when she had yelled for him.

“Sorry sis,” he replied, feeling bad that he’d forgotten.

Sammy went over and washed up his dishes as Maria just glared at Dean, who was sitting in a chair in the living room, right in her line of sight, “DEAN!” she yelled again.

“What?” he replied as if he had no clue what her problem was.

“How come you left your dishes in the sink?” she asked, trying to keep her temper under control. 

“Cause I felt like it,” he said, not even looking over at her.

At that, she smirked, “Okay, well I don’t feel like cooking for you tonight then. You can have something else.” she said in that smartmouth tone of hers and turned back to the sink.

Dean was stubborn, but so was she. He just sat there, the three adults looking over at him, none of them saying a word. They would let the two of them work out their differences but at the same time, they were going to let Maria dictate this one. There was plenty of food in the house and if Dean wanted to be as stubborn as he was, he was going to have to deal with the consequences of his stubbornness.

Maria washed the dishes Dean had left in the sink, as she needed the space to cook, but it also meant he had no way of being able to eat what she was cooking that night. When she got to the potatoes, Sammy wanted to help her, so she let him peel them while she cut them up and got them ready to boil. A half-hour later, the aroma of the baked chicken began filling the kitchen as she stirred the boiling potatoes. 

“How much longer sis? I’m starving,” Sammy practically whined as he wandered back into the kitchen.

“About thirty more minutes,” she replied before she turned to him, “Wanna help me set the table?”

“Sure,” he replied excitedly.

She giggled a little seeing his excitement at something so simple, which made her love cooking more than she already did. Maria handed things to Sammy from the higher cabinets that he couldn’t reach and he set the table for everyone. 

“Will you stir the gravy while I mash the potatoes?” she asked Sammy, knowing how much he loved to help her.

“Definitly,” he said with a huge grin.

By now the aroma of the baked chicken had made its way into the living room, even getting to the adults. Dean’s stomach growled at how good it smelled, which only annoyed him further. Maria put the mashed potatoes on the table before finishing up the corn and gravy. That was when she pulled the chicken out of the oven, smiling proudly as she set the pan on the pot holder in the middle of the table.

“Dinners done,” she hollered before turning off the stove and sitting down across from Sammy, who had been trying to wait patiently for the last twenty minutes. 

They all joined her in the kitchen sitting down at the table, even Dean. She raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. John put some of everything on Sammy’s plate while Bobby and William set up their plates before she did hers. The moment Dean reached for the chicken, she smacked his hand.

“Hey, what the hell was that for?” he said, annoyed, pulling his hand back.

“Mouth,” John said in a low, deep tone, glancing up at his oldest son.

“You didn’t take care of your lunch dishes, you don’t get what I cooked. We had an agreement,” she explained calmly.

“It’s Bobby’s house, you don’t make the rules,” Dean retorted.

“Boy, she cooked, she makes the rules for the meal she made, and she never asks for more than you boys keeping up on your dishes,” Bobby told him sternly.

“Oh come on!” Dean exclaimed, quite annoyed as he threw his hands up.

“Son, she warned you before she started. Go find something else to eat,” John told him, just as sternly as before.

Dean went to open his mouth but quickly thought better of it. Maria wasn’t even smug about it. Part of her felt bad that he wasn’t going to get any but really she was more hurt than anything that he wanted to break his word to her, about their agreement. In the adult's eyes, it wasn’t much to ask for from her. She didn’t have to cook, she’d wanted to. Maria was fairly good at keeping her emotions out of her expression and the last thing she wanted was for Dean to see that he’d hurt her feelings. She ate mostly in silence as Dean ate two decent-sized meat sandwiches, everyone else praised her on the meal she’d made.

There wasn’t much to put away when everyone was done eating. She’d gone to clean up when John stopped her, setting his hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him, “We got clean up tonight,” he smiled down at her, “You’re an amazing cook, by the way.”

She smiled a little, “Thanks Uncle John,” she replied before she headed to her room.

Maria made it halfway through the living room before Sam tackled her with a hug from behind, “Dinner was AMAZING!” he exclaimed, squeezing her tighter.

“Okay Sammy, but I’d like to keep my dinner in my stomach,” she told him through his grip.

He quickly let her go, “Sorry, it was just really good. I miss your cooking when you aren’t around,” he told her.

“Maybe, when we’re older, we can hang out more and I can cook for you,” she told him, knowing it probably wouldn’t happen, not with them all being hunters. It was a nice dream though, and dreams were something she felt Sammy needed.

Dean just glared at her as she walked to her room, “And don’t get into the leftovers Dean. I know how much was left,” she told him without looking over her shoulder, to which he just scoffed.

She got her night chores done before she went back to the book she’d been reading, more things on witchcraft. Some of it was boring but she got through it nonetheless, knowing that even the boring stuff could be useful, depending on the witch. After the adults were asleep though, she slipped out of her room to go look through Bobby’s new books that she had taken note of earlier in the day.

Maria was quiet, even on the hardwood floor as she walked over to the stack of books near his desk. She picked up one on sigils, werewolves, vampires, and even the one on angels she’d read four years ago. Dean watched her from where he was lying on the living room floor, staying completely still, wondering what the hell she was doing. She looked over the pile of books he had stacked in the corner. There was an obscure book that she could only see the corner of but was drawn to it. She set her small stack of books down on the corner of his desk before she carefully, yet quietly, moved the books so she could retrieve the one she was after. Maria stacked the books back up the way they were before she set that one on top of her stack and made her way back to her room. 

Dean quietly slipped out of his makeshift bed and followed her but he only made it to the hallway before she closed her door. He smirked, deciding to use this to his advantage, finally having something to hold over her.

In her room, she plopped down on her bed and looked at the top book, the one she’d been drawn to. It had an odd symbol on the cover. It was a circle that took up most of the cover with another circle close to it. Inside the circle were triangles that all pointed down and outward, away from the top and center. She ran her fingers over the image that was slightly raised off the cover, smiling a little. She set the other books to the side of her and opened it, finding it simple to read, having no clue that it was in another language.

Another two hours passed before she even realized it, “Shit…” she whispered, looking over at the clock, seeing that it read midnight, “Dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out I was up this late.”

She quickly stashed the books behind her bag, under her bed before she turned off her lamp and crawled under the covers. Maria didn’t even feel tired but sleep soon found her. Dreams of white hallways lined with doors, each leading to a different place, and a room with what looked like a white throne and white bench seats around the outside of the room played through her mind. She saw what looked like people but they didn’t feel like people and none of them could see her. They were just moving around, doing whatever job it was they were doing. 

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - When Dreams Are Too Real

Tag List @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Try

Written for @hinnymicrofic January 2024, using Prompt 21

Another not-really-very-micro microfic. Oops!

They didn’t know she was watching them, Ginny was sure of that. She was carefully hidden as she was amongst the leafy branches of the biggest apple tree, a climb that she was fairly certain none of them even knew she could manage, but Ginny had spent much of the spring practising, while all the others were away at school. Now, in high summer, she could shimmy up to the very top with no effort at all.

She knew that no one would mind if she left her perch and went to join them, but the thought that she might embarrass herself again left her glued to the branch. It also left her incredibly frustrated that she honestly thought she would scream, if that wouldn’t mean being discovered spying on them all, and if being discovered spying on them all wouldn’t in itself be even more embarrassing.

Instead, Ginny watched with increasing jealousy as her brothers splashed about in the cool water of the pond below. The air around her was still and languid, the heat of the afternoon lingering as day faded into early evening. She felt ridiculously hot and sticky, and the pond looked so very inviting.

Of course, if it had been just her brothers and her father in the pond, then she would definitely be down there too, right in the thick of their games - because she was Ginny Weasley, and no one left her on the sidelines if they knew what was good for her. But it wasn’t just her brothers, was it? No, there was someone else there too, and that someone else was Harry Potter. THE Harry Potter. The Harry Potter about whom Ginny had read so much, the Harry Potter who was the subject of all her most cherished daydreams, the Harry Potter who Ginny was absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent going to marry one day. In her pond. With her brothers. 

Of course, it was true that he was… shorter than she had imagined. Skinnier too. Still, Ginny thought, he was very handsome. He had such pretty eyes. The colour definitely reminded her of something, though she wasn’t quite sure what. Ah well, she was sure it would come to her eventually. She liked his hair too. It was so very black and looked so very soft, and she liked the messy way it always stuck up - a little hint of something wild and unruly about him, no matter how polite he was to her mum. 

Harry, of course, wasn’t swimming. Instead, he was paddling ankle deep in the shallows, occasionally engaging in splash battles with Ron. Watching him, Ginny was struck yet again by how horribly unfair it all was. What on earth was wrong with her that she couldn’t manage to utter more than a squeak in his presence? She had so many funny, clever and downright cool things that she wanted to say to him, things that she was sure would impress him very much indeed, but her brain seemed to turn to utter mush whenever he was in the same room. Take that very morning as an example - she hadn’t even been able to answer when he asked her a simple question about her Hogwarts letter without humiliating herself. It was, she had to admit, as she examined the grease mark on her elbow for the thousandth time that day, something of a spanner in the works when it came to getting him to realise that she was anything more than Ron’s weird baby sister. 

As she watched, Ginny heard a familiar voice hailing her brothers - Dad was home from work. She twisted to look back towards the house, to see him striding towards the pond, also wearing his swimming trunks. 

“Now then, Harry!” he said, bracingly, as he arrived at the edge of the pond. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Erm… If you’re sure, Mr Weasley,” replied Harry, in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to be any bother.” Ginny thought he sounded extremely nervous, and more than a bit embarrassed. 

“Nonsense! Everyone needs to know how to swim. I’ve taught seven kids so far, one more will be no trouble at all!”

Which was entirely true. Ginny couldn’t really remember a time when she couldn’t swim, because her Dad insisted all the kids learn as young as possible, especially with a deep pond being so close to the house. It seemed really strange to her that someone as old as Harry had never learned, and both her parents had found it really shocking that he couldn’t when the subject came up at the dinner table the night before. 

It started innocuously enough, with Fred remarking that he hoped the forecast heatwave would last long enough to get in lots of swims. Ron then excitedly asked Harry if he had any trunks with him, and Harry had blushed deep beetroot, looking down at the table as he admitted he wouldn’t be able to join them. 

Mr Weasley asked a few questions just to make sure he had understood correctly, then spent some time spluttering things like ‘basic life skill, even for muggles’, ‘dereliction of duty’ and ‘downright unsafe’, before briskly announcing that he’d be teaching Harry himself. Harry, of course, tried to argue, but Mrs Weasley had rustled up a pair of trunks that probably originally belonged to Bill (because frankly, every item of clothing in the house originally belonged to Bill), before she’d even cleared up the dessert plates. 

She watched as her father supported Harry as he got into the pond, encouraging him to put his face in the water and blow bubbles, then supporting him as he tried floating and kicking his legs. 

Eventually, her father clearly decided his student was ready for the next stage. “Right then, Harry! Just give it a try!” he declared.

“Okay, Mr Weasley.” Ginny thought Harry looked utterly terrified at the prospect, but he took a deep breath, and his features settled into a resolute expression. He hurled himself forward into the water, wheeling his arms and kicking his legs in a tidal wave of splashes that landed straight in her father’s face. Then he sank like a stone. 

Ginny gasped as Harry disappeared below the water, but of course her father plucked him from under the surface only moments later. Harry was red faced and spluttering, with both water and apologies, but her father had only kind reassurances for him. Harry took a moment to compose himself, before striking off for a second time, with much the same results. Again and again he tried, listening carefully to Ginny’s father between each attempt. Gradually, his arm movements became more deliberate, and his kicks became more controlled, but it only seemed to extend the length of time between sinkings.  

Just then, Ginny heard her mother’s voice boom through the trees, carried by a particularly shrill Sonorus charm. “Arthur! Boys! Dinner’s nearly ready! Bring Ginny with you if she’s out there - I can’t find her anywhere!”

With the promise of food imminent, Ginny’s brothers stormed from the pond towards the house. Meanwhile, her father gave Harry an encouraging smile, as he conjured a pair of well-worn towels.

“Come on, Harry, let’s call it a day for now,” he said, slinging a towel around Harry’s shoulders. “We’ll try again tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll crack it by the end of the week.”

Harry’s thin features were set with determination as the pair of them followed Ginny’s brothers back to the house. “Thanks, Mr Weasley. I’ll try my hardest.”

Once they had left, Ginny dropped casually from branch to branch and then down to the ground below. As she ambled across the orchard back to the house, her head was buzzing with what she had just seen. Harry had been so nervous to start with, but he had set about his task with impressive tenacity nonetheless. Well, Ginny was nothing if not tenacious too. If Harry could learn to swim, surely Ginny could manage something as inconsequential as speaking in front of him. She could start small, just like putting her head underwater, just like blowing bubbles. Just a couple of words in his presence, and not even to him - to her Mum, maybe, or the twins. Perhaps she wouldn’t manage the first time, but that didn’t mean giving up. She would just try again. And eventually, she was sure, it would all be worth it. One day.

[pokemenlovingmen]

Oh neato new blog!! I enjoy reading peoples different interpretations of characters through x reader imagines, and it’s nice to see another one pop up. If you’re comfortable with it, would it alright if I request a scenario using any Pokémen of your choice developing a crush on a male reader who’s a big, intimidating buff guy..but in personality is actually a softie and an attentive single father to his young child. (Who is tinyyyy. Just a lil thing to contrast dad) I like romance and found family..what can I say.

oooooh that sounds so fun and cute!! Since it seems like you meant one guy, I’ll do one dude, but a longer post! Usually that’s my form, one person gets a longer post whereas multiple get shorter segments… however long it takes me to adhere to that. Because I have no self control. Anyway, my man of choice for this ended up being Grusha, because some nice and warm fluff should melt that frosty exterior.

And on the romance and found family thing, you are speaking my language fluently, you’re talking to a guy who worships those things in fan content. You can’t!! Go wrong with it!!

Soft as Snow

Grusha x Intimidating Male Reader (who has a kid!)

So. In your relationship Grusha might be a bit uh.

❄️ — Grusha is not a kids guy. Not at all. He’s the literal opposite of sunshine and rainbows. But hosting arguably the most intense and therefore exciting out of Paldea’s gym matches and spending so much time in a snow-covered mountain that is, realistically, so much fun for a kid to go to, he sees a lot of kids. Usually glued to their parents, which he’s grateful for, because rounding up some kid who runs off is about the last thing you can expect him to do successfully. So all in all, he limits his interactions with kids as much as humanly possible, but understands his job puts him around them a lot.

❄️ — A frequent culprit of drawing in rugrats he’d really rather not interact with would be the Cetoddles he looks after. He supposes he can’t blame the kids, they’re pretty cute and definitely not something you see anywhere but the mountain. And that’s exactly what gets him awkwardly interacting with some unknown little girl when he’d rather be doing anything else.

❄️ — A little girl had come to look at one Cetoddle, and with no parents in sight, he had to stay near. So, sighing, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks over, making the Cetoddle chirp excitedly when it sees him. He clears his throat and makes some horribly awkward attempts at small talk at this random child, no older than seven, who is just staring at him so intently now.

❄️ — “You, uh… like Cetoddle? Yeah… um. I think he likes you,” he tries, but he’s no… well, any other gym leader, even Larry, would be better at entertaining some random child while phoning the league staff on site that some unsupervised kid is running around.

❄️ — But he never actually has to make that call, because you run up shortly after he hesitantly approaches, frantically calling your daughter’s name. Like good lord, she is so fast. You blink once and she’s gone. You’re pretty fit, but even now you’re sweating profusely from all the times she’s bolted off on you.

❄️ — Grusha just stares at you as you approach, bug-eyed and wondering how the earth didn’t literally rumble as you ran up. Because holy shit, you’re massive. Legitimately built like an Ursaring and for a second he fears for his life and regrets ever approaching this kid thinking she was lost, because he could swear at the speed a guy who looks like you is approaching, you’re about to bite his head off for getting near her. Once again, interacting with kids proves more trouble than it’s worth, considering he’s so sure this is going to genuinely cost him his life. People get rash when it comes to their kids, understandably.

❄️ — But instead, you look at him, then at your daughter and immediately fall into bowing your head muttering thanks and apologies. “Oh, hey, I’m so sorry, she can be so fast when she wants to, I hope she wasn’t pestering you and your Pokemon for too long!”

❄️ — While you’re gently chiding your daughter for running off and imposing on a stranger, he looks from her to you. Then to her. Then to you. She’s not even, like, a quarter of your size. Being a former athlete, he’s seen some built dudes, but you’re giant and he’s still taken aback by how different your attitude was compared to your appearance and how doting you clearly are over your daughter. (A big heart AND nice body? Grusha isn’t even aware of how many of his boxes you tick because he’s just never thought about those things since his accident.)

❄️ — He clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh. No problem. She wasn’t causing any trouble.”

❄️ — Both of you awkwardly mumble out some small talk (Grusha really isn’t one for talking and you’re kind of struggling to hold up the conversation), but when he mentions he’s got to get back to the Gym, you’re shocked. Oh! He’s the gym leader?! THE retired snowboarding prodigy?

❄️ — Turns out you and your daughter had just moved to Paldea, and to warm up to your new home, you’re taking her to see a few of the Ten Sights of Paldea. She ran off when she saw the Cetoddle on their hike, though, and you’re pretty surprised you just kind of bumbled into a pretty famous trainer who you’ve seen in a lot of informative pamphlets and ads for the region. It also makes you increasingly apologetic for your daughter imposing on him because he definitely has a job to do, and shouldn’t be pulled away from it.

❄️ — The conversation doesn’t last much longer, and you part ways shortly after. Grusha doesn’t even realize how attractive you are to him, you’ve got his heart thumping but he doesn’t even consider feelings for someone being a reason why. He’s just sort of resigned himself to be alone. But deep down, seeing a man so attractive (like phew. you are FIT.) be so caring and soft is actually really resonating with him. Basically, you’re a type he doesn’t even know he has.

❄️ — He’s a bit surprised when he sees you and your daughter again after a week or two, back on Glaseado. You wave and give him just the sweetest, happiest greeting when you meet again and sheepishly explain that your daughter became fascinated with the local Ice-type Pokemon and had been begging to go out and see them again. (He’s not sure if he can imagine that child emoting. His interactions with her, including now, all she’s done is hug your side and stare blankly at him.)

❄️ — But you’ve done something rare, and like most of his feelings, Grusha doesn’t realize it—you’ve struck a chord with him somehow and he’s too much of a die hard, stubborn loner to understand why. So when you meet for the second time he awkwardly offers to let you and your daughter meet the local Cetoddle pod that he watches over a lot.

❄️ — It’s cute. Seeing someone of your towering stature playing with the Cetoddles, who somehow don’t fear you at all despite how intimidating you are. They’re crazy about you, probably because they see how your daughter interacts with you and just flock to your parental nature. That and your daughter herself just having a good time while you laugh with her, sometimes throwing halfhearted snowballs because you know if you actually tried to could hurt someone with one, and she mostly just wants to pelt you with them than get hit herself. (Kids)

❄️ — The whole time, Grusha’s watching, not even aware of how smitten he is. But someone else is, because after a bit he’s startled by something shaking violently on his poke ball belt, and then with a crack! and no other warning out comes his Altaria, which grabs his scarf in its talons and drags him the hell over to you. When it shoves the flustered Grusha your way, it lands and begins preening itself, instantly capturing your daughter’s attention. (Because what kid wouldn’t want to pet the fluffy cloud bird? Altaria’s cute, and it knows it.)

❄️ — While Grusha’s giving his dirty traitor of a Pokemon the stink eye, you just give this warm and hearty laugh that has his heart doing flips all over again, and pat Altaria on the head. “Aw, this is a friendly one! Isn’t it pretty?” (To which your daughter vigorously nods.)

❄️ — “Uh, yeah, sorry…” he glares at it, and out of the corner of its eye Altaria glares back. “She’s usually not like this. I don’t know what her issue is.”

❄️ — “Haha, it’s no problem!”

❄️ — Then silence. And silence. …And silence. Grusha’s out of things to say, which didn’t take long at all. You cough. He clears his throat. The both of you watch your daughter and his Pokemon play in the snow. He’s only just now realizing how strangely desperately he wants to find something to say to you. And then, while playing with your daughter, Altaria gives him another Look.

❄️ — Oh. Oh, Altaria knew, too. Altaria was trying to bide him time. Well, he couldn’t let his Pokemon companion’s efforts go to waste, as embarrassing as it was…

❄️ — “So, uh…” he clears his throat. “Wanna… come back to the gym with me? Got a coffee machine there. Get something to warm you up.”

❄️ — Your eyes light up and it feels like his heart just got body-slammed. “Hey, that sounds great!”

❄️ — You call your daughter, and he calls his Pokemon, both running at the promise of some hot chocolate from the coffee machine. As you and him are both turning to head back in the direction of the gym, you completely miss a certain interaction nearby.

❄️ — Your daughter tugs on Grusha’s scarf, and when he looks down at her, she gives an unsettlingly blank stare as she studies his face. Finally, as if it’s a complex equation she just solved, she happily announces: “You’re nice.”

❄️ — Oh, uh… thanks? Those are the words Grusha wants to say, at least, but your daughter keeps going with a genuine verbal gut-punch.

❄️ — “I think you and my daddy should get married.”

❄️ — Kids say the darndest things, huh? (You exchange numbers by the end of the day, and who knows… maybe one of you will follow your daughter’s advice some day. But definitely not today. Grusha has to go crawl into the void and die of embarrassment first.)

[icysab]

jake boyfie hcs ✫彡

requested here!

tags: fluff, gn reader

wc: <150 probably

a/n: bro i don’t think i’ll ever get over these jake pics they changed my life I NEED SILVER JAKE BACK AGAIN

- as evvvvverybody knows, jake is the biggest puppy boy

- he’s so adorable i swear to god

- if you do something kinda dumb but funny (like putting metal in the microwave, tripping over air, or asking if the phrase “four score and seven years before” was from the lord of the rings — based off a real interaction i had with someone btw) he’d laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe and make SO much fun of you

- would bring it up a week later just to be a little shit

- “jake did you eat my cookies?? i specifically asked you not to T-T”

- “okay maybe i did, but at least i didn’t almost explode our microwave by putting a spoon in it”

- piggy back rides!

- if he was giving you a piggy back ride and you gave him a lil kiss on the cheek he’d literally halt in his tracks because he’d be so flustered

- has your name on his phone saved as something cute but doesn’t tell you because he’s embarrassed

- if you play with his hair, i think he’d melt

- i feel like he’d be scrolling through tik tok or twitter or something on his secret account and show you edits or something of himself to try and seduce you LMAO

- (it works)

- if you’re taller or shorter than him, he’d either bend down or stand on his tippy toes a bit when you’re talking to him about something so he can look you in the eye

- flirts with engenes during meet and greets and lives and stuff to mess with you

- will hear you talk about something you’re really interested in and then try to get knowledgeable/good at it and fails miserably… it’s funny though LOL

- tickles you EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT TICKLISH

- volunteering at animal shelters dates. i said what i said.

- he’d be so cute omg imagine his big puppy eyes looking at all the dogs

- “Y/NIE LOOK HOW CUTE THIS ONE IS CAN HER TAKE HER HOME!!”

- and he’s all over this giant great dane, petting her like crazy

- jake would prank you lmao (niki’s influence 😔)

- but it’d be in the stupidest ways

- “y/nie i accidentally dropped your toothbrush in the toilet”

- you can’t ever be pissed at him though because he’s too cute </3

- jake = cutest boyfie

[talkshowboyluvr]

As a follow on post, here's why Coriolanus Snow to me, would have had the same emotions invoked if Treech was his tribute that he had with Lucy Gray.

Coriolanus Snow clearly cares about his tribute winning the Games and along the line also starts caring about Lucy Gray.

So, Treech and Lucy Gray both share quite a few qualities that I believe drew Coriolanus to Lucy Gray.

The biggest reason Coriolanus fell in love with Lucy Gray was obvious — he believed he had a claim over. This feeling would easily be found if he was instead mentoring Treech as he'd have the same experience of people referring to Treech as his own.

Another reason he seems to be so obsessed with Lucy Gray is because he believes he needs to protect her. Of course, Treech clearly known how to an ax and is described as, 'athletic,' but still seemed incapable of fighting properly. Even when he kills Teslee he does so while he knows she's distracted and unable to fight back. (And, if we're going by the movies Treech does seem shorter and lankier than any other male tribute his age.)

Coriolanus attempts to convince himself that Lucy Gray isn't technically district as shes Covey, to feel better about his love for her. But, what he's saying is already grasping at straws, so I'd assume he'd also make up another lie to himself that removed Treech from a district label. Probably something like, "Oh well now he's a Victor, he's basically apart of the Capitol regime!"

The poverty that Lucy Gray is in, is something we can assume movie Treech at the very least shares. Movie Treech's outfit is clearly a lot less tailored than every other tributes and already has dirt all over it before they get into the Zoo. We can assume his life in Seven has the same struggles.

Having families to feed. I've always written Treech to have younger siblings — specifically sisters — and that is definitely similar to Maude Ivory.

Also. The obvious — both Treech and Lucy Gray are extremely attractive people.

Even in Coriolanus' own book descriptions of Treech he is more focused on Treech's look than he is for the other tributes. (This is just the funniest part of the book to me, he seems to insult every tribute who is not Lucy Gray, or simply ignore them, but with Treech he describes his flowing dark hair 😭)

Obviously the plot would change slightly — Treech would be less helpless than Lucy Gray and would be able to kill using his ax, but still would not be overly violent and would rely on sponsors.

Treech would likely not have as many sponsors as Lucy Gray, but as he is again more self sustaining, would still be able to steal from tributes until the snakes.

Treech would save him in bombing, even if just out of instinct as from book Treech we can see his natural reaction is usually to help when shocked. (The embrace.)

Coriolanus could feel the same jealousy he felt about Lucy Grays song just to Treech and Laminas bond. It's clear movie Treech cares about her and spends his time comforting her and I wouldn't be surprised if book Treech was the same. Picture Coriolanus fuming that Treech held her when she cried.

That already builds a small layer of distrust.

The kiss before the Games could happen. Treech is intelligent and sneaky — he spends the entire Games hiding and if he saw playing into Coriolanus' crush as an easier way to win, I think he'd do it.

Treech's death simply wouldn't happen — Coriolanus would have the same wish to have his tribute win the Game and therefore would still put the hankerchief with the Snakes and give him poison.

However, I doubt Treech would use the poison much at all and if Lucy Gray somehow did manage to survive till the Snakes came, she would die there, while Treech could still reach high ground.

Reapers death would definitely be more violent, with Treech probably just axing his head off. I've always imagined it looking a bit like an execution.

Really, Coriolanus would be less likely to be caught, however I think the Dean would still manage it.

The sentence would be lighter as his cheating really didn't impact the Game much and he'd be able to bribe his way to Seven quite easily.

This is where its more speculation. In my own depictions of Treech I lean more towards him being a performer — that juggling routine had to have been sublime — and really just being very similar to Lucy Gray.

Sejanus would still arrive, Coriolanus would still meet Treech (perhaps while he's preforming, perhaps not) and if Treech still feels in Coriolanus' debt, would probably enter some type of romantic relationship with him.

Coriolanus gets jealous easily. Very easily. And based on movie Treech, we can assume Treech is quite sociable, or at the very least has an aura that makes people want to stick with him. Coriolanus would not enjoy that.

Treech would feel the same guilt Lucy Gray felt — more to do with stealing Dills water as she died, having kills that were violent. And these kills would only fuel Coriolanus' fear that Treech (as he felt for Lucy Gray) was dangerous. A cold blooded killer that was using him.

The whole mayfair thing has no real reason as to why I think it would happen, but I can imagine Sejanus would still attempt to aid rebels, Coriolanus would still be forced to kill a second person and then would give Sejanus into Gaul.

Why would the death be blamed on Treech? It could simply be a distrust of Victors, especially those who are clearly fraternising with Peacekeepers and killed in the Arena.

Seven would obviously have woods they could get lost in, Treech is intelligent. Snow slips on his words, Treech has a similar reaction to Lucy Gray.

"Who's the third?"

My old self. Treech naturally isn't falling for that and.

You know the end of the story. It may be a snake simply because Treech sees it as symbolic and we know Seven definitely had snakes as Coriolanus mentions in the book that he guesses Treech is already familiar with them as he runs to the leader board.

And Treech's memory is erased, his ending is left a mystery while Gaul welcomes Snow back home.

This turned into a ramble but 😭😭 this is my own understanding of why bisexual loser could also fall for Treech.

@moreespressoformydepresso @zippiedippievippie this is the explanation you guys asked for LOL :3

[pickleking8]

6 - Adoption Isn't All It's Cracked Up To Be - Chapter Six

Hello! Sorry it's been so long, I just didn't feel like writing for a bit, but I got to read a lot of the comments people left me and that gave me a lot of motivation! So thank you. Anyway, this chapter is a lot shorter than the others, but I hope you enjoy it regardless.

Words: 548

Ao3 Link

Previous - Next - Masterpost

TW: discussion/mention of kidnapping, blood (all pretty mild)

————————————–

Jazz’s feet thumped against the uneven floorboards as she paced frantically across the hotel room. Much of the space was taken up by the worn bed, and her vision filled abruptly with a decrepit wall every couple of laden steps. She was growing quite familiar with these walls, with their peeling paint and scuffed baseboards and various patterns of decay. She kept pacing.

Eventually, the feeling of something trickling down her thumb brought her to attention, and she pulled her fingers away from her teeth to find her thumb bleeding, the nail rough and jagged from hours of worrying, the rest of her fingers not far behind. 

If she was being honest, she felt rather jagged herself. Normally, her thoughts behaved like a brick wall, with her as the bricklayer. Neat, regulated rows of clay stacking upon one another and forming a solid, reliable foundation. Now, though, her thoughts splintered, like a broken mirror. A reflection distorted in the glass, showing a cracked and broken body, adorned with sharp, bloody edges. Creating gaps and shards that scattered everywhere, leaving Jazz to desperately try to put it all back together. It might have been in vain, though, for the biggest hole was missing, and nowhere to be found. 

Now, if there were really a mirror, one would assume that the hole would reside over Jazz’s heart, showcasing a spiderweb of harsh edges tinted green spiking out from it and piercing each and every facet of her thoughts. One might also assume that Jazz, though perhaps only in the part of her mind where her secrets were kept, would name that hole Danny. 

Did you know that mirrors are green? Jazz did. Jazz hated green. It was everywhere, she noticed it all the time now. She’d always marveled at the slight green glow that Danny seemed to create. She never imagined how bright and how glaring it would be when compared with crimson. Jazz didn’t like green, anymore.

Ok. Deep breaths.

Danny had been gone for six hours, thirty seven minutes, and nearly forty five seconds. Possibly even longer, she had no idea when he had left or been taken.

Fuck, how could she have let this happen? Again? Danny, her sweet, wonderful baby brother, who babbled about stars and carried so much in life, was gone. Taken, probably, once more. Something must be wrong, or he would have come back by now. He would have at least let her know. He would have. (Or maybe he’s already gone, her mind whispered).

Was it her parents? (No, not your parents, not anymore; a quiet reminder) Or the GIW? Or both? 

The whispers didn’t stop. They didn’t stop. In fact, they only grew in volume, becoming a torrent of voices that creaked and splintered and broke, jumping from accusation to accusation, pounding at her head and creating a cacophony that she couldn’t escape.

It’s all your fault…

You failed again..

He’s gone again.

He’s been taken again!

You failed again!

Repeating over and over and over, the words built into a hurricane, the fractured pieces of her mind coming together to form a howling storm made of dark clouds and freezing rain, swirling into a single purpose:

To get her brother back. 

And next, to make those who took Danny pay. 

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Next - Masterpost

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So, that's it! Sorry again that it was so short, but I hope you liked it! If you have any constructive criticism to offer, I would be happy to hear it. I hope to be able to get some more chapters out, but then again school's starting, so we'll see. Thank you for reading!

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Taglist: @tkiesai

[deepspacedukat]

Logical Detour

The words have been coming slowly today. This ended up being shorter than I wanted it to be. Please be gentle. I’ve never written Spock/Bones before. This is my first foray into that particular ship, so please forgive any inconsistencies/errors/ooc moments/etc. Also, I’m not specifying which Spock and Bones this is, because everyone will inevitably imagine different versions.

Day 14: Prostate Massage

SoC prompt list here. SoC Masterlist here.

~*~

Spock x Leonard McCoy (Spones)

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Vulcan sex, fingering, prostate massage, mild dirty talk, begging, risky sex.

~*~

They’d talked about this before, but the Enterprise’s C.M.O. hadn’t really believed that his partner was serious.

“Do you know how many regulations we’re breaking right now?”

“Twenty-seven.” The lightning-fast precision of the man gasping atop the medical bed tugged a small, fond smile across the Doctor’s lips - not that he would let Spock see that, of course. After all, he was trying to appear stern and irritated - aloof and grumpy like he always was. “An illogical endeavor given our bond.”

“Unless you want one of the nurses to catch us, lower your voice,” McCoy murmured glancing at the door. He had made sure that all of the on-duty medical staff were busy enough that they wouldn’t be bothered, but he didn’t tell Spock that.

Truthfully, he just wanted to shut him up so he could listen to something other than the First Officer’s unfailingly correct answers. Spock’s smug eyebrow raises, his uncanny ability to turn every conversation toward logic, his ability to make every question seem like a mistake...it was all so damned irritating!

And despite all that, Leonard loved the pointy-eared bastard. Hell, maybe it was because of all those frustrating traits that the Doctor found Spock so magnetic.

“Doctor...ashaya, please,” the Vulcan sounded desperate. That brought a smirk to McCoy’s face. It always did. His long, dexterous fingers curled and flexed until Spock’s back arched.

Ah, there it was. That sensitive spot he’d been dancing around for far too long would undoubtedly make Spock scream if he applied too much pressure. Surgical precision was required for an...operation as delicate as this.

“You really should’ve come down here sooner. With all those stressful duties you bridge officers are responsible for, you needed this sort of massage a long time ago.” As he spoke quietly, McCoy stroked his lover’s prostate in a slow, even rhythm, building his pleasure gradually. They’d done this in their quarters before, and every single time ended with Spock practically sobbing through his release.

A slightly quieter version of that climax was the Doctor’s goal for this little sickbay visit. Reflexively, Spock’s hand shot out and caught his partner’s, pressing their fingers together in a Vulcan kiss as they both blushed.

Well...maybe he was doing this for his own enjoyment, too. Just a little bit.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[adultswim2021]

Aqua Teen Hunger Force #84: "Time Machine" | May 3, 2009 - 11:45PM | S07E06

Frylock has built a time machine, which Shake immediately hijacks. He elects to go to the year 8008, which he’s only spelt out on the digital read-out because it looks like BOOB. It actually just goes to Carl’s house, where Shake bashes Carl’s head with a lamp and steals his sleek leather jackoff chair. Shake lies to Frylock about the future, which Frylock thinks is full of giant cockroaches who be mean to you. Surprisingly, when Frylock finally attempts a future travel himself, he actually DOES find big mean cockroaches. What the heck? 

This is the paragraph where I spoil the ending, which is okay, because I do that on here regularly if you haven’t noticed. It turns out Carl’s house has been taken over by the large cockroaches and his living room has been dressed to look like a desolate future Earth. They claim they’re from the future and that they traveled back to Frylock’s present day to take his time machine from him. The plan falls apart with a lot of logic issues, and basically Frylock just figures out these guys are just assholes and not from the future. 

I tend to think of Aqua Teen Hunger Force as one of the more consistent of the first-gen Adult Swim catalog. Kinda like if the Simpsons maintained a season 9 quality of being less-perfect but still more-than-half good. This episode is pretty solid, but it does have a couple of elements that I found off-putting; namely Shake’s fart-themed parody of the Safety Dance and the little scene where the characters speak in subtitled hand-gestures. The Safety Dance thing is juvenile in an unsatisfying way, and the subtitle bit is basically feels like it's from a Zucker Bros. movie. I love Zucker Bros. movies, but it always rubs me the wrong way when certain shows indulge in that sort of thing. Especially cartoons. 

The theme song is slightly shortened in this episode, I noticed. I wonder if that’s a thing they’ve been doing and it hasn’t dawned on me until now. It’s just like, two seconds shorter, I think? Maybe I’m imagining it, but it seemed like they lifted out just a tiny bit of School D. saying like “check it, yeah” or something. Look, I don’t feel like making absolutely sure I’m not talking out of my ass here by actually A-B-ing the theme with different episodes. Somebody else can do this. PLEASE! I HOPE SO!

Speaking of audio differences: Shake calls Frylock a pussy in this episode and the words are “bleeped” out with cat noises. I checked both my recently-acquired iTunes versions of the episode, which is also bleeped. The volume seven DVD version has uncensored audio, which I read is the first release to include those salacious swears. I simply can't get enough of hearing cuss words without bleeps.