#if the idea was brought up I'd say it was too dangerous

[jewishvitya]

I remembered this essay from years ago when I was unlearning what I knew of Israel and zionism and I couldn't find it again, and now I see it in a Shaun video, with the source.

Ze'ev Jabotinsky, "The Iron Wall." I downloaded it from the Jabotinsky Institute.

These are the titles he gave this essay:

I said that Zionist leaders explicitly talked about Zionism as a colonialist movement. This is an example of what I was talking about.

Some quotes:

There can be no voluntary agreement between ourselves and the Palestine Arabs. Not now, nor in the prospective future. I say this with such conviction, not because I want to hurt the moderate Zionists. I do not believe that they will be hurt. Except for those who were born blind, they realised long ago that it is utterly impossible to obtain the voluntary consent of the Palestine Arabs for converting "Palestine" from an Arab country into a country with a Jewish majority.

My readers have a general idea of the history of colonisation in other countries. I suggest that they consider all the precedents with which they are acquainted, and see whether there is one solitary instance of any colonisation being carried on with the consent of the native population. There is no such precedent.

He's saying openly: no land was colonized with the consent of its indigenous population. So we have to do it without that consent.

Every native population in the world resists colonists as long as it has the slightest hope of being able to rid itself of the danger of being colonised.

That is what the Arabs in Palestine are doing, and what they will persist in doing as long as there remains a solitary spark of hope that they will be able to prevent the transformation of "Palestine" into the "Land of Israel."

He said that any zionist who depends on the Arab population accepting a Jewish state on their lands, might as well withdraw from zionism because that's impossible.

Zionist colonisation must either stop, or else proceed regardless of the native population. Which means that it can proceed and develop only under the protection of a power that is independent of the native population – behind an iron wall, which the native population cannot breach.

And then he says that this Iron Wall is the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration - they're the power that stops Palestinians from resisting us.

He says that despite this, zionism is moral and just, so justice must be done, zionism must move forward. He just wants to be honest about what it takes. He wants to discourage talks of an agreement to avoid signaling to the British that they must try to reach one between us and Palestinians. Just stop them from fighting us, we'll colonize the place.

Zionism was openly colonialist until this language was no longer politically useful.

Editing because I was kinda shocked by the response this got, in several moments. When the slavery of US founders was brought up to dismiss this whole thing. When First Nations reservations were brought up on the same list as the United States as equivalent to Israel, because I said I oppose the existence of a country that prioritizes one ethnic group at the expense of others, and I support democracy that protects everyone equally.

But another thing that's still nagging at me is the idea that this whole essay can be dismissed based on semantic arguments, like sure this uses the word colonialism, but is it actually the colonialism that we talk about and oppose? And what if this word is only used to appeal to the British for support?

This isn't the the first time that prominent zionist thinkers talk about zionism as a colonialist movement. I saw it in old publications, things like magazines, I'd be posting them too if I found them again. I did my own deconstructing years ago, I don't remember where I found all my sources.

I do remember that they talked about the two concepts together - the idea that we're here to colonize, and that we're here to come home. So nowadays there's the arguement that people can't colonize their own homeland, but to them there was no contradiction. I saw it again looking at Herzl's diary last night.

I say I define colonialism through actions and tactics, through the harm that's done to the victims of colonization. Because if we knowingly repeated the actions of colonizers and used the help of an imperial force to conquer a land, having a historic connection to it shouldn't absolve us.

Jabotinsky didn't write to the British in this essay. He wrote to other zionists who wanted to aim for something more collaborative with Palestinian Arabs. And it's true that word choice can mean different things in the context of the time, but there's a reason I chose those quotes. What is he actually saying in this essay?

Consider colonization throughout history - the native population never agreed, so we must do the as colonizers did in the past.

Palestinians will never agree to a Jewish state - so we must do it by force. We should use an imperial force as an "iron wall" to prevent them from resisting. Stop talking about an agreement because then the British will try to reach one instead of holding them back and letting us do our thing.

He's comparing the zionist movement to other efforts of colonization, to talk about emulating them.

This isn't a game of semantics. I'm not just bringing this up just because he used the words.

What he's describing - conquest by force, preventing a Palestinian state, forcibly creating a Jewish majority - is what happened. And it's still what's happening.

This is the branch of zionism that went into practice and founded Israel.

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

I AM LIVING FOR YOUR SLASHER HEADCANONS, esp the last post!! but i have a question: what do you think michael would do if the next time he wants to fuck, they’re like “nope, don’t want to, you didn’t make me cum” and is generally just provoking him and saying shit like “i can just find someone that CAN satisfy me” and other dumb shit. would he not care?? get jealous? knife through the door?? so many possibilities

Thank you thank you!!! <3

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐹𝑜𝓇

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, general nsfw things, mdni, i got carried away, unedited because I didn't think i'd write this much

As for your question(s):

I think it definitely depends on how long you've known him. The only way he'd give a flying fuck about what you think is if he was down bad. Especially if we're talking about the OG Michael. RZ Michael is easier to convince to actually give a shit what you want in bed, but it's still not a priority for him. Still, there are certain personality traits you can exploit to get what you want. . .

-

When you first brought up that you were unsatisfied in bed, it was a very soft comment after he was done and zipping his jumpsuit back up.

"I didn't even cum. . ." you mumbled, staring at your bare abdomen and leaking cunt. It was all him. You didn't even have the chance to pleasure yourself; it was too difficult with him constantly flipping you over and manhandling you. Your body was sore and bruised, but you laid there, discontent.

You moved your gaze to look at his masked face. Judging by the way he stopped his movements, he'd heard you. You bit your lip, turning your eyes away and down to your hands which fiddled with each other. You knew he didn't care, but it would be nice if he did.

"Just get out, okay?" you spoke, embarrassed and a little angry. "I'll just get myself off since you can't seem to do it."

Your tone had him walking around to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded knife from the nightstand. You flinched, but didn't bother to run. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already.

Just as you figured, he turned back around, trudging out of your bedroom with the blade in his grip. You rolled your eyes. You were half tempted to call up and old friend of yours for a night, but realized that might end in bloodshed. Michael was much too possessive for that.

Suddenly, an idea crossed your mind. You knew Michael was selfish, but he also always had something to prove. He wanted to, no, needed to be the best at everything. Nobody could escape, outrun, or hide from him, and he knew that. So what if. . .

It was a few days later when he came back, heavy footsteps on your porch alerting you. Still, you pretended not to notice, phone up to your ear as you chatted. You were leaned against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping some popcorn into your mouth.

The door to your house creaked open before shutting again. You paid no mind.

"Go out? Ha," you spoke, fingers moving around a stray popcorn kernel absentmindedly. "If I want to get drunk, I'll do it in my own home, thank you very much."

At this point, he was looming in the kitchen doorway, but you didn't even bother with a glance.

"Oh, go out to meet someone, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be nice. . . I mean sure, there's a guy that stops by, but I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied." You leaned against your fridge, his massive form still lingering just a few feet away.

"It's just. . . other people I've been with have gotten me off four, five times a night, but this guy? Not once. Yeah. You heard me. Not once."

You made sure to emphasize that last phrase. You knew the dangerous game you were playing, but you didn't care. "Talk to him? Girl, I've tried. He's like a brick wall. Doesn't even say goodbye. As soon as he's done he's out the door. Rude? Tell me about it. Sure, I've had better, but he always keeps crawling back looking like a kicked puppy. I just kind of feel sorry for him."

You didn't have time to speak again before the phone was ripped from your grasp and tossed carelessly across the kitchen, plastic pieces shattering across the tile.

One hand wrapped around your throat while the other rested just beside your head, almost denting your poor fridge with the force. The choke was painful but not deadly, and you locked eyes with the culprit, staring intently.

He pulled you against him before slamming you back against the fridge, and you winced at the sudden force. "What's wrong with you?" you sputtered out, your hands trying to fight the grip on your throat.

He glanced at the destroyed phone, and you had to stifle a smirk from appearing on your lips.

With another slam, he finally released his hand from your neck, and you took in a few shaky breaths. Still, he loomed close enough to leave you pressed against him.

"You're angry," you spoke, rubbing the marks forming on your neck. "I assumed Michael Myers never got angry."

He looked to the shattered telephone again before looking back at you. He wanted an explanation.

"What do you want me to say? It's true. And I'm pissed about it. All you ever do is use me then leave. I haven't had a proper orgasm in weeks!" You pushed your hands against his chest angrily, but he didn't budge. "I know you're not a good man, but it still isn't fair. I can't even call anyone because you'll have a knife through their neck before they can get their pants off."

He let out a breath, both hands finding purchase on your hips. "Now's not the time," you huffed, moving to push his hands away. His grip tightened. You headbutted his chest, forehead resting against the rough material of his jumpsuit. How could he be raring to go at a time like this? "Unless you've got anything planned for me tonight, I'm not interested."

He didn't falter. You looked back up to try and read his face through his mask. It did not work. You could tell he was. . . different than usual, but he was probably still pissed off from your words over the phone.

His fingers nestled behind the waistband of your shorts, and in one fell swoop they dropped to the floor. You stayed silent. He never had the decency to take your clothes off. It was always ripped or sliced, and there was never any time taken. Hell, he'd never taken your shorts off without your underwear going with.

You stifled a laugh. Was he actually. . . trying?

He slid a knee between your thighs, pinning you. One hand explored your upper half, sliding under your shirt until he hit your bra. His other hand travelled downwards, slipping underneath your panties. You felt a rough digit slide against your clit and let out a sudden breath. Quickly, he backtracked, moving back up until he found that same spot.

You had to bite your lip to prevent a gasp from leaving it. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been stimulated there. It was suddenly all too-sensitive.

Two fingers caught the small nub, and you had to grip his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. The digits toyed with it, squeezing and brushing like he was testing something. Your forehead pressed against his chest as heavy breaths left you.

One hand worked at massaging your chest, running a thumb against your nipple, while the other played with your clit harshly. You didn't expect him to be gentle in the slightest, but it still had you shimmying your hips in discomfort. It's not that you weren't aroused, and in fact, you were all too turned on. He'd never shown any interest in any part of you besides your cunt and mouth, and even then it was only to slide his dick into. This? This was all new. This feeling of rough hands overtaking your body, touching your skin, pleasuring you for the first time. . .

You pushed your hips forwards, trying to gain friction. With any luck, you could actually get off tonight.

Suddenly, all hands were off of you and he stepped back, tilting his head.

You rushed to hold yourself up, knees wobbly. You shot daggers at him, eyes burning. He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?

He stared at you, waiting for something. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking as put-together as you could with wetness creeping down your thighs and shorts discarded on the floor.

"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you want," you muttered. "Congratulations, you found the clit. Took you long enough. You'll have to work a little harder if you're looking to clear your name."

In a flash, he had you hauled over his shoulder, and you let out a gasp of surprise. You could only sigh as he took you to your destination.

You were dropped onto your bed, legs dangling off the front as he pushed you down into the mattress. You cocked a brow.

In an event you'd never thought would happen, he kneeled down in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. Was this a dream? You were in shock. There's no way he was going to. . .

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your panties were slid down your legs and tossed aside. It didn't take long before one hand was back between your legs, rubbing your clit as the other pressed against your stomach to keep you in place. You couldn't move your thighs which were locked apart, blocked by his shoulders.

You couldn't sit up with the way he had you pinned, and so stared at the ceiling, hands gripping the sheets.

A new sensation startled you, and you tried desperately to sit up enough to see, but it was no use.

It was his tongue, dragging up your folds until he reached your clit. He took the nub in his mouth, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent the noise that threatened to come out.

That old and familiar feeling built within you, like a spring coiling and coiling, ready to snap. Your mind went blank as a tension built within you. It was like everything but your cunt was numb. There, feeling was in overdrive. Every swipe of his tongue, every prod of his fingers inside of you, swiping forward to push against your favorite spot: it was too much.

You came with a breathless gasp, back arched as your hands dug into the sheets. Even without seeing, you knew your cunt was a mess. You could feel your cum seeping out. You could smell the scent of sex in the room. Your thighs shook, pussy clenching around nothing.

You expected him to pull back, but instead you felt his tongue licking at your cunt, swiping up any spill into his mouth. You let out a whine as he prodded inside, tongue lapping up your wetness.

Digits were back to circling your clit, and you moaned, still much too sensitive. Despite this, he had no intentions of stopping, instead switching out his fingers for his mouth as he thrust a finger inside of you. You had no time to process before another joined the first. Your head pressed desperately against your bedsheets.

"Slow down," you gasped, voice shaking. He didn't heed your words, and in fact, sped up the way his fingers pushed in and out of you. You whined. The tension was already back and ready to snap within you.

"Michael," you cried, eyes clenched shut. "Please!" You weren't sure what you were pleading for.

You came again, more violently than the last. Over and over your cunt pulsed, leaking your cum to pool at your enterance, only to be pushed back in with the shove of his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! You win!" you panted, wiping the sweat from your face.

When he still showed no signs of letting up, all you could do was let out a weak groan. You got what you desired, you supposed. But it seemed he found something he liked as well.

All this because you decided to talk a little shit about him. You didn't dare tell him there was nobody on the other line.

[daytaker]

Hiiii! I’m the anon that asked for the MC’s family request and it was hilarious, 10/10 if you don’t mind May i possibly ask for a part 2 with the dateables? Thanks for reading!

(Part 1: The Brothers)

"Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son."

...is what you almost do say when there's a knock at the door a few weeks later while you're entertaining your parents, your sister, and teenage cousin who's stuck with your folks while your aunt is on a cruise. Your parents stare at you with faces that all but beg you to ignore the damn door. Is it that cult again?

"Open the door! Is it that cult again?" your sister asks with shining eyes. She's been discussing going backpacking across the country ever since she met those seven hot guys who apparently adore you now. Your parents are devastated.

"Cult?" asks your cousin, looking up from his Switch with dead eyes. Your sister starts explaining to him as you go to the door and look through the peephole.

Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. Oh, son of Gardonus---it's the son of Gardonus.

Opening the door just partway, you see that it's not just Diavolo. No, he brought the whole crew with him. Barbatos, naturally, but also Solomon, Simeon, and even little Luke. Diavolo holds a bouquet of flowers and Luke has a covered platter that almost certainly contains some kind of cake.

"Hiiiii, guys..."

"MC! It's been too long!" laughs Diavolo in his booming voice.

"It's been...a month..." you concede. Why, just...why...do all these handsome men find you so alluring? This is just your cross to bear, apparently. "It isn't a great time though, so---"

"Is that them?" Your cousin is standing behind you, peering out the door.

"No, this is... Who the hell...? MC, don't tell me there are more of them?!" Your sister is clearly astounded, and also quite delighted. "Invite them in! Invite them in!"

So, soon you're standing in the middle of your tiny apartment again, surrounded by friends and family, holding flowers and a cake, and feeling like you'd love it if a chasm in the earth opened up and swallowed you.

"There were more?" Your mom sounds hurt, like you'd been intentionally hiding things from her. "How many more besides these?!"

"Arguably three, but I don't know them well enough for them to visit," you say, winking reassuringly to the nervous author.

"Oh my god, there's a kid?!" Your sister has noticed Luke now. "Holy shit! Whose is he?"

You point mutely to Simeon, who smiles uncomfortably and waves.

"I'm not a kid!" Luke protests. "I'm--"

"You're a pre-teen. We know, Luke. We know." Solomon laughs dangerously, and Luke doesn't put up any more arguments.

You clear your throat. God, this is even more uncomfortable than the last go-round.

"Um, so. Everyone, I'd like you to meet---"

(Individuals are below the cut!)

Diavolo

Diavolo, who was never good at standing by quietly while other people talked, steps forward before you have a time to do any introductions. He extends a hand to your father, who has been eyeing him resentfully all this time.

"You all must be MC's relatives. What a delightful person you've brought into this world! I am Diavolo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"'Diavolo'?" your cousin mutters, looking at his Switch screen again. "Like from JoJo?"

Dia looks very confused, and as your father hasn't shaken his hand, he smiles awkwardly at you. "Perhaps I'm approaching this the wrong way? Are the customs here very different from...ahem. Where we are from?"

"You mean Italy?" your cousin says.

"Ah-- Yeah. Dia's Italian. People here are a lot less friendly," you tell him.

Your sister asks him how someone like him ended up in a cult.

You remind everyone that you were not in a cult.

"But you met my baby while they were away from home," Mom says accusingly, glaring at Diavolo. "When they were vulnerable and confused."

Diavolo has no idea what to say to that. Your dad is still glaring at him.

Solomon

"This is Solomon. He's---"

"I'm their mentor and closest companion," Solomon says helpfully, taking your hand. "We have a very special relationship."

You really wish that chasm would stop taking its sweet time and open up already.

"Mentor? Special relationship?" Dad finally speaks up, and his arms are crossed over his chest, his expression deadly serious.

"This must be your father," Solomon observes, still smiling. "Sir, it's an honor to finally meet you. I hope I have an opportunity to speak with you privately later. We have a lot to discuss."

Your mom is ready to throw hands with this guy. Your sister is enchanted. Your cousin is cursing under his breath at his Switch.

Solomon wraps an arm around your shoulders and you elbow him in the gut. He smiles through the pain but lets you go.

Simeon

"...Simeon. Simeon, these are my parents. This is my sister, and this is---"

"Is there some sort of attractiveness requirement to join this cult?" your sister asks, beaming at Simeon.

You remind her that there is no cult.

Surprisingly, your parents don't seem nearly as hostile to Simeon. Maybe it's that angelic charm at work. They both shake his hand, which is significantly more than they were willing to do with anyone else.

"Simeon, that's a good, decent name. What do you do for a living?"

"I own and operate a cafe."

Nice one, Simeon. Very smooth. And your parents look even more impressed.

"A business owner, eh? And at such a young age..."

No one points out to them that Simeon has probably been alive longer than humans have existed.

Luke

"...Luke!" He has a completely normal human name! High fives all around!

"And that's his father?" Mom points at Simeon. "He looks awfully young..."

"Oh, Luke's an orphan. Simeon's just his guardian. It's really sad actually. His parents died when their car careened off a cliff."

How did he end up living with a cult though, they want to know. That Simeon guy can't be a very responsible caregiver if he's living on the road.

You explain to your family (again) that they aren't in a cult, that Luke is a totally normal orphan child with a stable and loving home, and yes, Mom, he goes to school. Yes, Mom, he eats vegetables. No, Mom, you don't need to call DCFS.

"He's so cute," your sister coos.

"I am not!" Luke yaps.

"And he's shaking and everything! You know what he reminds me of?"

You rub your temples.

"A Chihuahua."

Barbatos

"This is, uh... This is..."

Barbatos smiles at you and offers not an iota of assistance. He finds this entire thing pretty funny.

"This is Barb... Barbados..."

"What, like the island?" your sister asks.

Yes.... Just like the island....

And yeah, he talks. Sometimes he talks a lot. I don't know why he isn't talking. Barbs, say something.

"It is an honor to finally meet your family, MC. What a charming collection of people."

"I like your hair," your cousin says, actually looking up for once. "And those are pretty sick beads."

You agree that Barbatos's human clothes are pretty sick.

Did you say human clothes? That was weird of you.

Your mother asks why everyone in the cult paints their nails besides Simeon and Luke. You tell her that there is no cult, but, uh, it's just a fashion thing. They just like it. Don't be judgmental.

Your cousin agrees. Don't be judgmental, Auntie. He paints his nails black. So, like, what, is he in a cult now?

You remind everyone that there is not and never was a cult.

Your cousin tries to give Barbatos his Tiktok and tumblr accounts, and Barbatos smiles very graciously but refuses on the grounds that he does not have a Tiktok or tumblr.

After you manage to get the group out of your apartment, shoving Solomon out as he farewells you as his adorable apprentice, you slam the door shut and lock it.

Your parents smile at each other, agreeing that you could do much worse than that nice Simeon boy. Your sister insists that she is going to backpack across the country with at least ten or eleven hot men, even if they do have a kid with them, and nobody is going to stop her. And your cousin has put down his Switch and is now designing a vampire OC that looks suspiciously like Barbatos.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi!! I loved your post about Leo's sons sneaking out lol! I'd love to see how the other brothers would react to their kids!!

Children Of Raphael (Fluff)

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

A/N: My nap did wonders, and I managed to write this! Anyway, I’m glad you liked it❤️ This time it’s Raph’s turn! Joan, Minerva and Ragnar out trouble making behind you and Raph’s backs❤️

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Warnings: Spelling, you and Raphael’s kids being sneaky and cute❤️

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It had been Joan and Minerva’s idea, because of course it had. Who else would come with an idea that surely their mother and father wouldn’t like. And little unsure Ragnar did not like what he overheard his sisters talk about. They would go topside without their father and mother knowing, and see the city of New York for themselves, and maybe even get some pizza. Something you and Raph’s two oldest kids always had wanted to do. But not your youngest. He was so young and did not like it. The thought of his sisters leaving the lair without his parent’s knowledge, made him jump uneasily on the spot. To 6 year old Ragnar, everything outside the lair was big and dangerous, and therefore the world above was a scary place. But his sisters had made their minds up. They were leaving tonight when you and Raph had gone to bed, whether or not Ragnar was coming along.

So that night, after Raph had gone out on patrol and you had tucked Ragnar into bed and kissed him goodnight, the young boy did something he never had done before. He changed the time on his alarm clock, just like he had heard his sisters say that they would do. And just to be sure, he added an extra alarm, should he accidentally sleep over the first one.

A few hours later, Ragner woke up to the sound of his first alarm, quickly turning it off before you would be able to hear it. He quickly gets into his clothes, before hurrying out into the big open living area, where both Joan and Mini stood, waiting just to see if their little brother would come along.

“Great”, 13 year Joan said, uncrossing her arms and letting them rest on her hips. “Now that we’re all here, let’s go”.

Mini jumped with a smile at her sister’s words, skipping towards the exit. But Ragnar on the other hand, still wasn’t too sure about their plan.

“I still don’t know if it’s a good idea”, Ragnar said, playing with the hem of his oversized sweatshirt.

Joan sighed loudly and frustrated, exercising her oldest sibling's power to the fullest. “Did you just wake up only to tell us that?”

“No…”, the small boy muttered.

“Then shut it, and let’s go”, she said, turning towards the exit. But Ragnar did not shut it, like his sister had told him to.

“But what if mom and dad notice we’re gone?...”

“You see this?”, Joan said, turning towards her little brother in a sharp swing, one hand in the air, moving like a mouth, the other pointing to the moving hand. “This is your mouth, and it keeps jabbering. Now shut up and get moving, or keep it jabbering and stay here”.

Joan turned and started walking toward the exit once more. Ragnar placed his hands on his hips, crossed his eyes, and moved his lips in an animated way, mucking his big sister’s words. Mini saw this and giggled.

“You coming?”, Mini asked, reaching out a hand. Ragnar nodded at her, still somewhat unsure of the whole situation. So his took his sister’s hand and followed Joan out of the exit, finding her waiting with a soft smile just beyond the doorway. Sure, she could be harsh on her siblings sometimes, but she would always come around, making sure that they were okay.

The three half human, half turtle kids wandered through the tunnels of the sewer, following the path their father had taken so many times, before he had the uncles would start their patrol. Mini led the way, remembering the route for all the times you had brought her to wave goodbye to Raph, hoping that it would calm her childhood temper tantrums down whenever Raph left.

Ragnar now clung to the arm of Joan, watching every shadow around him with worried eyes. In his young mind, they all looked like monsters lurking in the shadows, ready to jump at them at a moment's notice. Ragnar thought of his father taking this route to the topside almost everyday, and how brave he had to be to do so. There was no doubt in Ragnar’s mind. His dad was one of the bravest men alive.

Finally, the three kids of you and Raphael came to the ladder that led to the world above. To Ragnar, it had seemed like several hours through the dark sewers, but in actuality, it may have taken less than a few minutes. But with all those shadows and monsters that continuously caught Ragnar’s attention, it felt like forever.

“It is this way", Mini said, pointing up the ladder. “I’ve seen dad go this way each time”.

Ragnar stared up the ladder, feeling a new fear wash over him. “That’s a long way up”, he said, mouth agape.

“It’s not that far”, Joan said, sending her brother over to Mini, before grabbing a hold on the ladder steps in order to start climbing.

As Joan climbed to the top of the ladder, pushing the cover of the manhole off, Ragnar stood uneasily and looked around. It was like watching something he wasn’t allowed to see. And even as Mini wrapped an arm around him, he still didn't feel fully safe.

Once the cover was off, Joan called down to Mini, asking her to send Ragnar up first, not wishing for him to be alone in the sewer. Though Joan sometimes found her siblings to be whiny, she did not like to make them feel more unsafe than necessary, which was the reason why she stood over the hole, smiling at Ragnar as he made his way upwards, Mini following closely behind.

Once at the surface, Ragnar looked around with wide eyes. He had never been in an alleyway before, nor had he ever heard the constant noise of the city at night. The blaring sirens somewhere beyond the low rise apartment buildings, and the occasional hunk of a car horn. For a moment Ragnar wondered if this was how his father felt whenever he crawled to the surface, in order to help the NYPD catch the many criminals Ragnar so often heard about. But it was the thought of his father that suddenly caused the boy to look around in fear.

“What if dad sees us?”, Ragnar asked as Joan pulled the cover back over the manhole.

“He’s on patrol for the next few hours”, Joan said, dusting off her hands. “The city is big, so the chances of him being around are less than small. We will be home before him and before mom wakes up. They won’t notice a thing”.

“But dad is a policeman”, Ragnar muttered. “He will notice”.

“Dad is not a policeman”, Mini said, giving Ragnar a sudden nuggie over his bald head. “He’s a ninja. That’s different”.

“Doesn’t matter”, Joan said. “We’re not here to discuss dad’s profession but to see the city. Come on!”

The three kids hurried to the mouth of the alley, watching the street from a hiding spot in the shadows. They watched people walk up and down the street. Business men and women on their phones, walking with hurried steps, stressed over the conversation about money. Teenagers was laughing on the street corner, and a couple stood under the street light with their arms around each other. Mini wondered if that was what you and Raph used to do before you had kids. Just standing out in the open or on the roof with your arms around each other, looking deeply into each other.

“Where do you think dad is?”, Mini suddenly asked, looking up towards the roof at the thought of you and him in your young years.

“Right here”.

Joan almost pushed over a trash can at the sound of her father’s voice. Mini felt her soul leave her body and a shiver run down her spine. But Ragnar felt relief, running to his father with his arms open, hugging the lower half of his torso, even if Raph looked furious.

“Daddy!”, the young boy shrieked, hiding his face against Raph’s hip. Raph placed a hand on his son’s head in a comforting gesture, but his expression did not change, his other hand on his hip.

“How did you know we were out?”, Joan asked almost in disbelief.

“Your mother texted me”, Raph said. “Someone forgot to turn off their second alarm. It kept beeping until she went in to turn it off”.

Ragnar’s eyes widened. He looked up to find his father looking down at him, his sisters realizing what Raph had just said. The sound of Joan’s facepalm echoed in the alley.

“Ups”, Ragnar smiled sheepishly.

“Ups indeed”, Raph said.

Mini moved some dirt on the pavement with her foot, playing nervously with her hands. “Are we in trouble, dad?”

“Oh, yes you are”, Raph said. “All of you are grounded”.

Mini and Joan complained loudly, asking their father if he was serious. Ragnar, still too young to feel or understand the frustration of being grounded, continued to bury his face against Raph, a content smile spreading over his face.

“No complaining. Masks, now”, Raph said, holding out his hand. With a sigh the girls relented, handing their bandanas to their father. Ragnar, who was still glued to Raph’s side, did not fight nor complain when Raph took his bandana off.

Lifting Ragnar up in his arms, letting the boy hug him around his neck, Raph went to the manhole and pulled over the cover with one hand, turning to the two girls as he pointed down the black hole with a snap of his fingers. “Lair”, he said, watching as Joan and Mini dragged themselves towards the ladder, knowing fully well that you were waiting back home. Ragnar on the other hand was happy. He was going home to his mother while being carried in his father’s arms, and nothing bad had happened. At least nothing bad in Ragnar’s eyes.

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1

Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader

The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.

Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment

Series Masterlist

The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 

You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 

Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 

It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 

A hand snapped in front of your face.

“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 

“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”

“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”

“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.

“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.

You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.

“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.

“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”

“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.

“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.

It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.

A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured

A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 

A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 

The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 

Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 

"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 

"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 

"Because she takes her pills?" 

"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."

"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 

"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."

"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 

"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."

Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.

As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.

That’s when things started to get very strange.

The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.

“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.

“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 

“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.

You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 

Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 

The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  

“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.

Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 

As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.

“Who?”

You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 

That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 

The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.

When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.

Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.

“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 

“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 

“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.

“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”

“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 

“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.

Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”

“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 

Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 

After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.

“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”

“Yeah”

“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”

“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”

Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.

“Okay, walk me through what happened again”

“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”

“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 

“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”

For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 

It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  

They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 

When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.

You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 

Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 

And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 

Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 

Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 

The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 

Tony, however, was taking no chances. 

“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 

“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 

“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 

Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”

“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 

“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 

“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 

“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 

“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.

“And Loki?”

“And Loki."

<;< Masterlist

Part 2>>

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Historical AUs!

We have 26 incredible fics submitted to this list, stretching from the fifth century up to the 1990s. We have stories that fit into just over 2,000 words, and others that are more than 200,000! This list includes one LiLo fic, and we also have our first ever non-English rec, with a French language fic -- truly the language of love.

To all my fellow history lovers, it's time to go apeshit. Read, reblog, comment, kudos, bookmark, tell your friends, all that jazz -- your local fanfic writer appreciates it!

Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds (88649, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Violence, bullying, homophobia, slurs

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

Reccer says: The beautifully chosen words, the captivating story, the queer joy!!!

Unrequited by babyhoneyhslt (144000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Omega Prince Harry is send to France to marry Prince Louis, but instead of the nice boy he knew when they were children, he is met with a cold and distant husband and no idea as to why.

Reccer says: It was so interesting to follow along with this and try to figure out why Louis was behaving this way. And then later see them fall in love. Really liked it and can't recommend it enough.

Danger I can’t hide by CelticSky (227290, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: War, homophobia

Flying Officer Styles and Sergeant Tomlinson would have likely never crossed paths in a time of peace, their lives laid out neatly, predictably before them. But then the world became unrecognisable. Too soon they grew accustomed to fear, surrounded by death and destruction, not even their freedom a certainty any more. Until they found each other. Comfort. Companionship. Understanding. Another person to lose.

Reccer says: It's one of those fics that I'd describe as monumental, masterful, epic. In my opinion, it should be made into a film, and brought to everyone's attention. The script is brilliant and relentless. The characters are subtle and nuanced. The writing is exemplary. A masterpiece.

Secrets in Winter by softfonds (82582, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

Reccer says: I loved the plot and the character development of the main pairing.

A cycle of recycled revenge by Brokenbeaks (103302, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Foxburgh, England, 1983. In the heat of summer, wreathed by pastures, rolling knolls, and thatched-roof cottages, Louis takes on a new job: caretaking for a recently blinded man named Harry. As it begins, what seems like a simple task turns into a quest that costs him every last bit of his pride and tolerance. Harry is, in practice, a two-legged curse. And Louis is just gonna have to put up with it. Or: The one where Harry likes to infuriate Louis almost as much as he enjoys straddling his lap.

Reccer says: Absolutely excellent. I was a bit worried about how Harry's blindness would be handled, but it was done wonderfully. Perfect fic. Perfect writing. Perfect plot.

Through Lonely Streets and Neon Lights by Sweetly_disposed (25107, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1920's era, Great Gatsby inspired. Harry is a poor boy living in the South Village. Every night he watches the North City come alive and longs of crossing the river to be a part of it and escape his dreary life. The infamous Mr Tomlinson lives across the river from Harry. His parties are the stuff of legend; people on both sides know about them, and all Harry wants is a chance to go to one. When fate swings his way and he finds himself in Mr Tomlinson's house, he gets much more than he could ever have bargained for.

Reccer says:

Chasing empty spaces by Lis (Domesticharry) (79028, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

Reccer says: This fic is simply magnificent. A must read

An invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon (44627, Explicit, Harry Styles Louis Tomlinson)

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son. The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.

Reccer says:

Box of Rain by Indierection (amandamoraisa) (26631, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1970 AU, Louis is a boxer and Harry a ring boy

Reccer says: The era is well transcribed (the way of life, the music), and the story is very charming.

Cela aussi passera (French-language fic) by Hazzunah (110721, Not Rated, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

1993: Louis is 16. It's summertime, by a lake in France. He meets Harry. 1999: Louis is in Japan; he hasn't seen Harry for 6 years, since that fateful summer. He thought he'd lost him forever.

Reccer says: For years, I've been reading only in English, but there's still the odd French fic that I come across that's really good. "This too shall pass" is one of them. It's set in the 90s, it's beautifully written, it's moving, and the characters are well characterized. For me, it's a gem. So I recommend it. For anyone who can read in French.

You Make The World Taste Better by LiveLaughLoveLarry/loveislarryislove (10000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Harassment and threats from the rival baker, culminating in physical violence and a grisly end in keeping with the fairy tale

A twist on Hansel and Gretel as a rivalry between bakers, based on Hans Traxler’s fictional non-fictional text "The Truth About Hansel and Gretel"

Reccer says: This fic is such a wild adaptation of a story almost everyone knows, capturing both the sweet (literally, since Harry is a baker haha) elements and also the darkness of the tale.

No One Like You by myownspark (20000, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles were noted painters in the 19th century. Louis was a Neoclassicist, Harry a Romantic -- totally different, nothing in common, no connection. But centuries later, art historians Niall and Liam find something that suggests perhaps the two were more intertwined than people think.

Reccer says: I love the parallel timelines, watching Louis and Harry's relationship develop and fracture and heal at the same time as watching Niall and Liam discover things. We see pieces of history they're trying to puzzle together, and then we see the history as it happened, what it really was and what it meant to them.

Bloom by LadyAJ_13 (28909, Teen, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Non-graphic violence, period-typical attitudes

In early 1970s Oxford, Detective Sergeant Louis Tomlinson has to deal with the dual pressures of a case that hits too close to home, and the arrival of new colleague Liam Payne.

Reccer says: This was an incredible, atmospheric, moody historical mystery fic. Topped off with a lovely, happy ending that had me tearing up.

Under Electric Candlelight by littleroverlouis (5051, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

In the 1970s, small town veterinarian Louis moves to NYC and meets a beauty at the bar named H who sometimes goes by Lola.

Reccer says: So immersive you feel like you're in 1970s Manhattan. The characters are truly electric and lovely.

this is my jam by disgruntledkittenface (4513, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Harry goes to a gay bathhouse for the first time. 90s AU.

Reccer says: This story is so much more than it first appears. I could feel the atmosphere and the emotion of the moment of the characters finding a freedom that didn't exist for them outside of the bathhouse's walls. It's an absolutely beautiful (and hot) exploration of such a specific time and place. So layered and thoughtful and hopeful and real.

After Dark, After Light by QuickedWeen (71440, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Kidnapping, battlefield

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses. As the winter draws nearer by the day, the two are thrown together to prepare for the invasion that they expect as soon as the ground thaws.

Reccer says: This fic just sweeps you away to the Scottish Highlands! Such a fun historical romance!

the sanctity of patience by scrunchyharry (22521, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

When young Lord Harry was chosen by King Louis of Bavaria to become his husband and prince consort, Harry thought all of his dreams had come through. His illusions came crashing down when he understood it meant living in isolation in the alpine castle of Neuschwanstein with a husband who turned out to be far from what he had hoped for.

Reccer says: The writing is gorgeous and immersive. The characters are so vivid and I loved the way their journey to love played out.

Ace of Spades by allwaswell16 (78000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: depictions of violence, drug use

Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

Reccer says: Once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. The plot twists! The suspense! The intrigue!

Adore You by Isthatyoularry (66979, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson)

Arrange marriage AU, Harry initially hates Louis and their arrangement but goes along with it for the summer. Louis is perfect for him tho, as much as harry hates to admit it. They last.

Reccer says: The word building. Stubborn harry. Pining louis. Catching feelings. Hate to love.

We Can Find a Place to Feel Good by yeah_alright/uhoh-but-yeah-alright (8000, Teen, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

1960s AU inspired by Treat People With Kindness. Harry attends school dances over the years, meeting Louis and learning more about himself and what he loves.

Reccer says: Just so completely sweet and hopeful! Captures the vibe of the song so well!

The Garden Part 1 by Throwthemflowers/hazzabeeforlou (13000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post Warnings: Major character death, war

Biblical AU - 5th Century. A prince (Louis) falls in love with his father’s musician (Harry) in the midst of war.

Reccer says: This story is so hard to describe (it's Part 1 of a truly incredible 3-part series) but it's intense and brilliant and epic. The love here is all consuming and it comes through in the writing. Completely unique.

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by fairytalefemme (25896, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: internalized homophobia

40s/50s AU. Harry leaves his bride-to-be at the altar, runs away from his life, and finds a kind farmer who lets him stay.

Reccer says: Such a sweet, tender exploration of love and self.

With Words Unspoken by jacaranda_bloom (18000, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Older Louis and Harry. 50ish Louis returns to a cabin he'd visited many years before and it's a hippie commune type place where he finds Harry.

Reccer says: It just made me SO HAPPY. Peaceful and lovely.

1957: here to take my medicine by zita17/louisandtheaquarian (2652, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) - fic post

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading.

Reccer says: Literally transports you to this particular time and place. And so so hot.

The murmur of yearning by Mediawhore (93300, Mature, Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Rape/non-con attempts, death of character, slurs etc

Harry upon the death of his husband he was forced to marry find companionship and support in the arms of Land steward mr. tomlinson. Together they try to prove harry didnt murder his husband.

Reccer says: Regency era. Dark academia. Mystery and suspense. Forbidden love trope. The angst and mutual pining. Harry in corsets!

Love you in the dark by Perzikze (9225, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: Dubious consent i think, loss of virginity

Story of a historical wedding night. Innocent Harry has no idea what goes down during the wedding night; Louis eases him through it.

Reccer says: Innocent harry. Supportive Louis. It's adorable and sexy at once!

Stay tuned for the next list theme! It's similar... but different... ;)

[dyns33]

A story of witch

Happy Valentine day !

As a gift, here a looooooooong Morpheus x female reader.

Careful, some spoilers here, from the comics and so maybe from season 2.

Time had a different hold on witches.

A certain influence, because contrary to common beliefs, nothing escaped time and nothing was perfectly eternal, but it slipped over them as long as they decided, and had enough magic to repel its effects.

Y/N had already been walking on Earth for several centuries when she met Morpheus.

She had heard many legends about the Endless. Rumors. Lots of warnings, especially regarding Dream, who was described as a changeable, dangerous, angry and resentful being.

Her many sisters whispered to each other that becoming his lover was as much a gift as a curse. He would offer you the whole world on a platter, he would do everything to please you, and then one day, without warning, you would no longer suit him, you would do something wrong according to him, the feelings would no longer be as strong, and then misfortune would strike you.

The king would always find a way to blame you for this new emotional failure. Then you risked Hell, endless nightmares, eternal sleep.

Too much hassle for little benefit.

Y/N didn’t think about any of that when she met Morpheus. Neither to the wonders he could offer her, nor to the torments he risked inflicting on her.

For a witch, some might have thought that she was young, still naive, far too in love with her books and grimoires, fascinated by stories, and therefore vulnerable to the charms of the dreams master.

She didn't think she would fall in love. Neither did he. The mourning of his marriage and his child were still recent, for a being such as him. Y/N had barely been born when this tragedy had happened.

The subject was not brought up, like none of his former lovers. Morpheus did not forget, he never forgot, but when a new relationship began, he did not look back to compare with the previous ones.

No doubt it was a mistake on his part, who then never learned from his mistakes.

Y/N hadn’t had as many relationships as him. Witches have the luxury of immortality, and they knew the consequences of it. Bonding with mortals wasn't a good idea, even less so with their peers. Too risky. Too dangerous.

Attempting to see the future in dreams could have been described with the same words. Y/N was taking the risk of being punished by two Endless, Destiny and Dream.

But Destiny never interfered in anything, and Dream was intrigued by the little witch, asking her not to repeat her experiments, but welcoming her into his domain.

As they walked in his garden, the inhabitants of the Dreaming knew before them what was going to happen.

"Your flowers are beautiful. Everything is beautiful here."

“Would you like to see my library ?”

"Oh, I'd love to ! But you must have a lot to do, I don't want to bother you more than necessary."

"You don't bother me, mikri magissa. You are welcome here."

It took a while for Y/N to realize that they were getting closer. The courting of the king of stories was subtle, ethereal like him, full of poems and tenderness while doing without many words far too heavy with meaning, and at the same time far too limited to convey all the ardor of their love.

Because they loved each other, there was no doubt about it. The end of their story came quickly, although to a mortal three centuries seemed like a lot. At the same time, those who knew Morpheus well could testify that this was quite a long time for a relationship with him. But as always with his relationships, there had to be an end.

“I’m just saying he’s not wrong.”

"You don't know what you're talking about, o mágos mou. This man is insane and I'm not lonely."

“However, I have felt you far from me for some time now. Perhaps forever.”

"Don't I love you more than anything ? Haven't I shown you my love on many occasions ?"

"I don't know. It's difficult for me to know with you, immutable and yet so variable. Sometimes you give so much, too much, and sometimes not enough, if it's not nothing. There is no middle ground with you. Probably not with me either. It's possible that I'll ask you impossible things."

“Nothing is impossible for me.”

“Yet you refuse to speak, to really speak. You flee this kind of discussion, as you fled the friendship of this man.”

“Don’t push me, Agápe μου.”

Y/N left the Dreaming that night knowing she wasn’t coming back. Morpheus' indifference to her departure could have been seen as fortunate, but it hurt her deeply. He didn't try to catch her, he didn't try to punish her either.

Even though it seemed obvious after several weeks that he would not pursue her, neither in her dreams nor in the Waking, Y/N took precautions to prevent their paths from crossing again. Using several spells, rituals, amulets and ancient seals, she ensured that her mind was cut off from the realm of her former lover.

This protection proved very useful when the sleeping sickness arrived.

Like the rest of the world, Y/N didn't immediately understand what was happening. She knew Dream enough to know that he would never neglect his work like that, that he would not abandon his position unless forced to do so, and that despite all the cruelty and resentment he was capable of, he would never do such a thing to the dreamers.

Something had happened, but she didn't know what.

Too afraid of what he could do to her if she went into the Dreaming, or what could happen to her sleep without the protections, Y/N didn't try to find out. It wasn't her business anyway, since they were no longer together and the fate of humanity wasn't part of her responsibilities.

Time continued to pass, and she still tried to help mortals when she could, with potions and incantations to help them sleep, or on the contrary wake up, ensuring that their nights were not entirely nightmares.

But this was difficult, because she was not the master of dreams. Without knowing it, she came very close to Morpheus the day her steps led her near a mansion with dark, gloomy energies, which she did not wish to approach too closely. However, there was something, abandoned under a tree near the property, which attracted her with strong force.

The body of a raven. A raven different from the others, a dream. Jessamy. Someone had shot her and she lay there, lifeless, far from her creator, far from her home.

Y/N took the poor thing with her. Necromancy being prohibited, it was not good to anger Death, and the existence of dreams being a complex thing, she did the only thing in her power, to offer a decent burial to the little emissary whom she had loved very much and who had often helped her control Morpheus' moods.

When collective sleep returned to normal, there were no signs. Nothing that made it possible to understand what had happened. Curious by nature, the witch repeated to herself that she should not try to understand. The rumors would spread quickly.

She heard about Burgess. Whispers recounted the long confinement of the maker of nightmares, who had taken revenge before setting off in search of his stolen instruments in order to rebuild his kingdom. Twice he went to the Underworld, he faced a Vortex, he fell in love. Nothing really new, just the same story over and over again.

Y/N didn’t want to know any of this, but the choice wasn’t hers. One of her sisters came to visit without being invited, and to ask her advice.

“I don’t see how I can help you, big sister.”

"You have experienced what I am experiencing. Tell me how to escape from Oneiros, because I no longer wish to see him and he does not seem ready to accept it."

The rumors had not mentioned the fact that Morpheus had fallen in love with a witch again. Older than Y/N, more powerful, crueler too, because Thessaly had little interest in things of the heart.

" … I repeat, I'm not sure I can help you. Make sure you don't inspire him with any more feelings and you'll be free."

"Sweet little sister, he still loves you and yet he left you alone. I'm asking for this."

"He doesn't love me. He didn't love me for a long time when I left."

"We argued often and each time my wing of the castle was razed and then rebuilt under his orders. There is no trace of his former companions left in all of the Dreaming. None, except you. He did not touch your room. He denied me access to it. He recreated it with everything else after his return. Can you tell me that doesn't mean anything ?"

Y/N didn’t respond. She didn't know what to answer, she didn't know about all this. Her eldest whispered that she was almost jealous. Many times she had wondered if she had gotten his attention because of their similarities, because she reminded him of his lost love.

It might be a good idea for her younger sister to discuss it with the Lord of Dreams.

"Or not. That would allow me to slip away without him probably noticing, but I can't wish harm on one of ours. I'll find a way."

This time, Y/N closed herself off to the whispers, not wanting to know if Thessaly had found this way.

Part of her wished the best for the lord of stories, who had suffered far too much in the last century despite all his wrongs, and who did not deserve to receive another injury. Another part didn't like knowing the older witch was with Dream.

She was afraid for her sister, and she was afraid for Morpheus, whose fickle heart was more fragile than he wanted to admit. The consequences were likely to be terrible for everyone.

Filled with memories, Y/N wanted to visit Jessamy’s grave. A powerful spell had hidden it from the eyes of the world, to prevent it from being desecrated, and she wondered if she had not made a mistake in doing so, for it was possible that Morpheus had never known where his faithful emissary rested.

But the magic of ravens was special, these beings knew things, and she shouldn't have been surprised to find one of them on the tree that protected the location.

"Good morning." she said politely, making new flowers appear near the grave.

"Hi. Do we know each other ? I feel like I know you."

"I don't think we've ever met. You're Dream's new raven."

"Yeah, Matthew. I don't know why I'm here. I'm sort of drawn to it, and Lucienne told me to follow my instincts for this sort of thing, but I don't understand. Are you the one calling me ?"

“I think it’s more your predecessor that you are feeling.”

"Jessamy ? Oh… The boss thought her body was destroyed or something. Were you the one who buried her ? That's nice of you. You don't look really surprised to see a talking raven. I feel like I'm supposed to know you. You seem important."

"Not really, no."

"The boss could tell me but he's busy at the moment. He's accompanying his sister on a quest. Good, it's keeping him busy. It's been raining too much since his break up, it's been days. Merv told me that it was almost always like that, frankly it's painful to watch. The time with this Nada, the time with his ex-wife, the time with another witch… I don't know what he has with witches. I didn't like her at all, she was mean."

“It rained in the Dreaming when I left ?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask, surprised by the news.

Before that day, she had always believed that her departure had had no impact. A total, cold indifference, showing that she no longer mattered. But Thessaly had talked about her room, and Matthew had talked about the rain, and Y/N didn't know what to think at all now.

She had left Morpheus because of his inability to communicate, the distance he put between himself and the whole world. His grand declarations of love always seemed hollow, lacking something.

Maybe he had changed. He would never have allowed his emissary to speak as Matthew did, who was moving around on his tree asking a thousand questions about the relationship between his boss and Y/N. He even allowed himself to order her to leave, because he really didn't need Dream falling into depression again by seeing her through his eyes.

"He's got enough problems, he… Oh. Oh, no. I feel it, he's there. Shit, shit, shit. I have to go !"

Years without any news and within moments Y/N hearing about her former lover almost every day. Until someone came to her door and she found herself face to face with Morpheus.

He seemed embarrassed. He had always been awkward in the waking world, out of place, because dreams hardly survived in reality. But there was something else. He would never have bothered to knock before. He would have come into her house to say what he had to say, demanding that she listen to him, and agree with him at the end.

Without saying anything, he observed her as if he were seeing her for the first time, turning his gaze towards her bedroom, the door of which was surrounded by several symbols used to repel dreams and nightmares. Y/N expected this to make him angry. He had already not liked her touching his domain when they first met.

"I thought you followed my sister into the sunless lands…" he whispered, looking down. "I no longer felt your presence in the Dreaming. I didn't think you were running away from me. It didn't seem to me that I gave you reasons to run away."

“I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me again.”

"I have waited a long time for the day when I would have the joy of seeing your sweet face again. It never came, but I am the one responsible for it. You were right about Hob Gadling, You were right about many things but I didn't listen, and I lost you. It was one of my greatest regrets."

“Why are you talking like that ?” Y/N asked as she approached, their hands almost touching.

"Mikri magissa, so much has happened. I am at a crossroads, with a big decision to make. I admit to being afraid, and you give me courage."

“Maybe I can help you ?”

"Even if you could, I wouldn't ask you. The search for my little sister is dangerous, a lot of blood has been shed since we left in search of our brother and I couldn't bear to see it happen to you. I had agreed to help her to see someone again, without understanding that it was you I secretly wanted to see, and now I must find a way to console my sister, disappointed by my lack of investment. But the only way we have left is one that I dare not name."

Y/N had briefly met Morpheus' family, including Destruction and Delirium.

The prodigal had spoken to her little before his retirement, but he had seemed tired, reaching the limits of his functions and no longer seeing the point of remaining with all the inventions of mortals and immortals which fulfilled his role perfectly without he needs to intervene. His siblings did not understand his decision.

One of the most affected by his departure had been Delirum, very close to his brother, who would have given anything for a family reunion.

"If this means your downfall, I can't believe Delirium would ask such a thing of you." Y/N said indignantly, not daring to come any closer. “There must be something else.”

"I don't think my younger sister is aware of what she's asking of me, nor do I think it's possible for me to go any other way without putting someone else in danger. I just came to see you, and thank you for what you did for Jessamy, and for the dreamers during my absence. I hadn't seen all these acts of kindness. But maybe it's you who didn't want to see me again. Not with my behavior. Oh, mágos mou… I so wanted to be better for you, but I could only change by going through all these trials, and for that I had to lose you."

It felt like goodbye, and Y/N didn’t like it. By definition, the Endless had no end, at least not while there was life in the universe. Without thinking, she placed her hand on Dream's cheek. He usually hated it, being touched, especially without permission, but he closed his eyes with a happy sigh, pressing his skin against hers.

Asking him if he was okay seemed stupid, but the question left her lips, and when his eyes opened again, they had a strange glow. He muttered that no one had asked him that question since his release. It was almost years ago. In truth, no one had asked him that question, even before he was captured.

Like he said, it could be because he had changed, and he didn't really deserve to be asked if he was okay before. And now that he was making an effort, that he was understanding, that he was improving, it was too late.

"I'll find a way. I'll talk to your sister."

“Delirium has always loved you.” he sighed. "My whole family, I think. I never noticed that our relationship is the only one that Desire hasn't tried to sabotage. But maybe they knew that I would sabotage it on my own."

“Let me talk to her.”

Much to Morpheus' surprise, his younger sister listened to Y/N. She even seemed to become Delight again for a moment, as the witch promised to find Destruction, even if it would take time. She just had to be patient, but also accept that it was possible that their brother didn't want to be found.

It was his decision to leave, as it was her decision to change, and Dream's decision to stay the same. But if she asked him to continue their quest, horrible things could happen, and she might lose another member of her family.

"… Okay. But you promise to look ?"

“I swear on our mother’s first ledger.”

"Several people have died trying to help us, Delirium… It's not safe to…"

"Oh, shut up. You'll be with her to protect her, you didn't care about the others. You're probably happy that Y/N came back. I'm happy too, she's nice, you two were good together. If you find our brother, then everything will be perfect."

Several spells, formulas and sacrifices were necessary to find the trail of the Prodigal, or Destruction took pity on them by inviting them to join him, but they talked, and as Y/N had predicted, he did not wish to return, but he entrusted them with a dog to give to his little sister.

Before disappearing between the stars, he took his big brother by the hand, walking together near the cliff, and whispering something to him.

"What did he say ?" Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

"He told me not to make the same mistakes and to think about myself for once. Not about my position, not about my kingdom, about nothing but me, and about you. O mágos mou, it's been a long time, but if you…"

The kiss cut him off in the middle of his question, time seemed to stop, and it was as if they had never left each other.

[nukaberries]

Heyo! If it's not too much trouble, could I get the FO4 companions reacting to a Sole who's super good with wild animals? Like the animal friend and wasteland whisperer perks but they're out here cuddling wild molerats and are able to pet Deathclaws. If that's not too much to ask, thank you muchly. Love your stuff!

I don't play around with Animal Friend and Wasteland Whisperer as much as I'd like to. I did once befriend a Deathclaw in Fallout 3, who died about five seconds later. He was great while he lasted though. Anyways, I'm glad you're enjoying the requests, thank you so much! I hope this one lives up to your expectations!

//

Companions React to an Animal Loving Sole (Includes: Cait, Codsworth, Curie, Danse, Deacon, Hancock, MacCready, Nick, Piper, Preston and X6-88)

Cait She'll immediately assume that Sole has some kind of death wish the first time she sees them carelessly approaching a wild Molerat with their hand held out. It's only when Sole doesn't lose a limb to the creature that Cait finds herself somewhat impressed, although, she makes a comment about how they'll probably catch all sorts of diseases from 'that rodent'. She doesn't think too much of it afterwards, that is until she finds Sole coming back into Sanctuary with a Deathclaw in tow, it's at that point that Cait will start to question Sole's sanity. Eventually, she gets used to finding Sole hanging out with Radscorpions, as though they aren't known for killing people without hesitation. She still finds it weird and she still isn't happy about that one time she woke up to a Radroach casually jumping around her head, but it becomes one of those things about Sole that she just accepts.

Codsworth Having known Sole for as long as he has, Codsworth is no stranger to his old friend's affinity for all different kinds of animals. He can still recall the amount of stray dogs and cats that Sole had brought into their home before the war, despite their spouse worrying that one might jump up at Shaun one day. If anything, Codsworth actually likes that this is something that hasn't changed about Sole - there's a lot of bad in the Wasteland and Codsworth knows better than any of the other companions how much this new world has changed Sole, so he finds it comforting to see some aspects of him are still the same. Of course, Codsworth is still sure to keep his distance from the creatures that Sole befriends; sure, they may like Sole, but who's to say they'll feel the same way about his robot companion?

Curie She loves having the opportunity to see the creatures of the Commonwealth up close and if Sole's happy to befriend every Mirelurk in sight, then Curie is more than happy to join him. Once Sole gets an animal to settle down, they usually tend to warm up to Curie immediately after - there was an incident with a Radstag kicking her over once, Curie doesn't like to talk about it. She also finds it interesting to see how the different animals in the wasteland have adapted and mutated to their environment and is more than happy to discuss it with Sole, if they're willing to listen.

Paladin Danse Initially, he thinks that stopping to pet every abomination that they come across is a waste of both their time and he makes this very clear to Sole. He tries to shut down Sole's attempts to befriend these animals as often as he can, although sometimes he can't help but find it quite mesmerising to watch a Deathclaw peacefully wander about right before his eyes. Still, it's only when Sole manages to tame a whole pack of rabid molerats that Danse wonders if their odd love for animals isn't so bad after all, not that he'd ever swallow his pride for long enough to admit that to Sole.

Deacon He does try to get used to the idea that Sole is going to pet every dangerous, man-eating creature that they come across, but it just freaks him out way too much. The stray mongrels following them around and wanting to play fetch are cute, even he can't deny that, although he'd prefer Dogmeat over them any day, but there's no way he'll ever get used to turning around and seeing a Deathclaw following after them like a big puppy. All Deacon asks is that Sole doesn't take it personal if he leaves them to fend for themselves when it comes to dealing with animals, he'd just prefer not to give a Molerat head scratches if he can help it.

Hancock Considering Sole chose to take him on their travels, he doesn't find it all that surprising that they'd want to pick up every other ugly stray they come across too. Admittedly, it's probably one of his favourite things about travelling with Sole, he'll never warm up to any of the bugs - Mirelurks are a firm no for him - that somehow become docile in Sole's presence, but he's got a soft spot for the Molerats. He'd love to bring one back home with him, for the sake of having some company and a mascot for Goodneighbor, but he gets the feeling nobody else in town would approve of that, so for now, it stays a simple daydream for him.

MacCready Once he gets over the shock of a pack of friendly Yaoi Guais swarming him and Sole, he's immediately jealous of this strange talent his friend has and wants to know how they do it. He refuses to take Sole not knowing for an answer and makes it his life goal to befriend at least one animal out in the Wasteland, of course, this ends with a dog bite on his arm and a bruised ego, especially when Sole manages to calm down the dog that had just attacked him. After that, he figures it's best for his own safety if he leaves the animal befriending to Sole, but he does ask for his own pet Deathclaw more times than he can count - not that it'd be very practical to have around Duncan, but a man can dream.

Nick Valentine There's not a lot left in the Commonwealth that can shock Nick Valentine, he's near enough seen it all and so, although Sole is expecting a much bigger reaction from the synth detective, he just accepts it. Besides, he once came across a girl roaming Boston Commons with a Sentry Bot for a best friend, a Mirelurk Queen isn't exactly that big of a surprise in comparison. That doesn't mean he won't go out of his way to pet any animals that Sole manages to tam on their travels, his favourite was probably the Radroach that Sole taught to roll over.

Piper Wright She genuinely thinks that she's having some kind of fever dream that first time she sees it, there's no way Sole would actually be sat at their campfire with a Mutant Hound sat on their lap peacefully. After pinching herself a few times and accepting the reality in front of her, Piper doesn't hesitate to dub Sole "The Wasteland Whisperer." If anything, she likes the bonus of not having to worry about fighting off any creatures whilst they're out on their travels, she just wishes that at least someone back in Diamond City would believe her when she told them about her Vault Dweller friend who can tame even the most vicious of creatures; even Nat thinks she's full of it.

Preston Garvey The first time that Preston saw Sole tame an animal was the Deathclaw back in Concord and for a moment, he was convinced that he was already dead and he just hadn't realised yet. At first, he wasn't sure how to bring it up to Sole to question it and so he decided not to question their odd talent at all, that was until he started travelling with them and they came across a Radroach nest. Preston still can't quite believe that there's someone out there that can befriend any animal they come across no matter what, but he finds it remarkable and he really doesn't mind when Sole brings animals back to Sanctuary. He's actually rather fond of the Yaoi Guai Sole brought back after going to clear out a settlement, he just hopes that they stay friendly, for everyone's sake.

X6-88 He doesn't see the point in befriending any of the creatures out in the Wasteland, it's far better to simply put them out of their misery after the generations of mutation they've had to endure. He makes this known to Sole immediately, which seems to offend his travelling companion, after that, he decides not to comment on it at all, aside from a few eye rolls and scoffs here and there. Of course, he doesn't complain too much when it comes to having the extra back up of a Deathclaw during a fight with raiders or Super Mutants.

[wolfofwritingstreet]

You said crows are closed but I’m willing to change your mind.

Crow is the captain of the ship that takes the crows to the ice court. Giving kaz orders and such.

AN: I am sosososososo excited for season two of Shadow and Bone, so here's to opening up the Crows again. Strayed a little away from the prompt, but I had an OC in my head I was basing this off of. So, please enjoy <3

TIDEMAKER, NOT TIDEMAKER

GN!READER X PLATONIC!CROWS

"And then twist, and pull." You commanded, grinning when Inej formed the perfect Sailors knot. "Perfect, Nej."

"Thank you for teaching me." You helped hoist her up, as her side was still stiff from where the gunshot had been.

"You are an excellent student, who listens to commands." You gave a pointed look to Jesper, who slowly lowered the cannonball he was holding.

"It rolled towards me, fate." He surrendered, whistling as he walked back towards Nina who was leaning against the bannister of your ship talking with Wylan.

Lord forbid you were talked into using your baby for one of Kaz's heists, though a Crow stays with the flock - or whatever it was Jesper said to boost morale after a particularly bad heist.

You may not belong to the Dregs, or the Dime Lions, or any gang. But, the idiots currently roaming around your ship were your closest friends... and you were promised a cut if you put your tide making skills to good use.

"Inej, keep practicing. I need to find Brekker - I haven't seem him in far too long, and last time I caught him eyeing up valuable items on my ship." Inej smiled softly, bidding you farewell with a nod as she went back to undoing the knot.

You two had both once belonged to the Menagerie; and whilst Inej learned to stitch herself up and join the Dregs, you had learnt how to tie knots and fled to the seas to become the infamous Pirate, who was a fond deliverer to Fifth Harbour.

Though the sea wasn't as free as it seemed, your debt to those in higher up places meant you always had to come back to Ketterdam. To interfere with them, would be the end of your sails.

"Kaz I don't think that's a good idea." You shot back into reality, blinking against the harsh sea breeze as you spotted Kaz taking the wheel of the ship.

"Brekker, get your slippery hands off my baby."

"No wonder she doesn't flirt back, she's in love with her ship." Nina teased, but you marched past her and up the short flight of stairs to glare at Brekker.

"You were heading the wrong way." Kaz answers your glare, and before he can even utter another word you have whipped your hands in an arch. The vein in your head throbbing, as you brought the ship to a complete stop. "Could you stop that, we are on a tight schedule."

"This is my ship Brekker, I know how to steer it."

"The map says your wrong." He released the wheel, clunking his cane down heavily. "I was fixing the mistake."

"If Matthias wasn't sleeping, I'd ask him to use all that Fjerdon muscle to haul you overboard."

"You are overreacting."

"Step away from the wheel." Your voice grew harsher, as the ship rocked dangerously. "I don't touch your cane, you don't touch my ship."

Kaz stared. You stared.

Five minutes later you were happily steering the ship, as Kaz sat on a crate beside you with the map across his knees. Kaz Brekker was many things, but he knew one thing.

As Inej had her claws, you had your ship. You two would both go down fighting if that was threatened, and Kaz knew better than to push those buttons.

"Slightly East." He ordered, and you moved the wheel with one hand, using the other to guide the waters behind you so that your travels were shortened.

"Has anyone got a bucket!" You grimaced as Wylan ran out frantically waving his hands, "I think Jesper is going to be sick, and he's threatening to do it over my plans if I don't find a bucket.

You sighed with a grin, letting the ship slow as you nudged a bucket towards Wylan with water from the sea. He stared at it transfixed, before snatching the bucket up and scurrying away causing Nina to let out a loud laugh.

You were the Captain of the ship, taking the Crows to the Ice Court, and not a single one was listening to the orders you had given out earlier.

This heist could only go well...

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

LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT, REQUEST.

[ddollfface]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝙋𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Okay, right now I'm cooking up some more headcanons for Baki the Grappler men, but I just couldn't keep this idea cooking in my brain.

Throughout history, in multiple ancient civilizations, touching one's forehead with one's own has shown different means, all deep and personal. For example, the Maori, natives of New Zealand, have/had a formal greeting where one would press their nose and forehead against the other's forehead. This was a sign of respect and sharing a spiritual connection. Not only that, but in Ancient Egypt, it was a tradition for the Paraoh and High Priests to press their foreheads to the dead, sharing a spiritual link that would hopefully help the dead through the afterlife.

Honestly, the list goes on and on, just proving my point. No matter where you are in the world, it's clear that something about the closeness of the faces while in such a position is special, vulnerable even. And, I'd have to assume, this would carry through to times before human civilization, to a time when we were more animal than human, back to Pickle's time.

At this time, there was no such thing as verbal communication, rather than grunts and growls, so they (assuming that there were other cavewo/men during this time) had only physical communication to observe. Now, it's my belief that there was no such thing as polyamory during Pickle's time, instead, there was mating for life. You found your one, the person you'd raise a family with and protect. This is why Pickle takes your safety seriously, not letting any of the fighters within a ten-foot radius of you (likely more, if we're being honest).

There's no way he'll let any man near you. You're his mate, whether you understand that or not doesn't matter; the look in his eyes tells you enough, accepting that you have no say in the matter.

Besides that, I think that Pickle, seeing as he can't communicate verbally, would show his affection through his actions, providing food, warmth, and protection is his means of love. He'll curl his body around your, much smaller, frame and hold you tight, not letting you slip from his grip for a moment, far too afraid of losing you. He's much like a possessive puppy once his owner comes home, except he's far more deadly than some pup.

Back to the forehead thing, since Pickle can't say 'I love you,' he has to resort to other ways to say so. One of these ways, I think, would be pressing his forehead against yours, letting his eyes close shut, and bringing your body closer to his.

The two of you will be far closer than necessary, his arms wrapped around your head, his hold suffocating. Of course, Pickle will have to be on his knees, bending down to reach your level. The two of you will share air, inhaling the others' exhalations. Though uncomfortable, you admire and are astonished at how trusting Pickle is in you, seeing as his eyes are closed and his muscles loose. Everything about him screams comfortable, homey, and in love.

The action displays trust, exposing such a vulnerability would be dangerous in any situation, but Pickle trusts you, knowing you're his mate, the one person he can trust in this cruel world. He's been brought into this odd place, where nothing's the same, and he's constantly being introduced to new friends, but he's found you. Your presence allows him to relax and understand that, though he's in a new world, he has you, his mate. (I especially see this being true if reader's a reincarnation or was brought back with Pickle, y'know?)

And it does nothing but shock the other fights, unable to comprehend how a monster of a man like Pickle could seem so calm, so at home, around someone like you (whether you're a cavewo/man, civilian, or fighter). It's incredible, the bond you two have for each other, how just a look from you can calm Pickle.

Anyway, it's just a thought, y'know?

divider by: @benkeibear

[yanderes-galore]

Oh, there's still time. I was worried that i'd lose the requesting time. For this batch, i only have one.

I wonder what Glamrock Freddy would be like in Fluffy AU. Honestly, he probably wouldn't be that different from his game counterpart, he might even have a similar role in protecting his caretaker when the outbreak happens and trying to get them out of the facility.

But imagine how devastated he would feel when he sees Roxy, Monty and Chica. Not only did his friends die, but they also returned as monsters. Monsters that don't even remember their friendship. The animals he sang with before were now trying to kill him. Imagine how much more clingy that would make Freddy to the reader, the only one he has left.

Now, the stomach hatch can be tricky. Has he always had this? Was it a mistake in his design, but not too big to make the scientists consider Freddy a failure because he still had his personality? Or does this happen after he, unfortunately, died and was resurrected?

Anyway, I can see Freddy and the reader being pushed to the limit by one of the undead and Freddy, having no choice, decides that to keep the reader safe he may have to force them into the stomach hatch until the danger is far away, despite how disgusting that is. He will do his best to not keep the reader inside him for too long. Accidentally killing his last friend would make him finally lose his sanity, don't you think?

Sure! Here's what I got from what you gave me :)

Yandere! Fluffy AU! Glamrock Freddy Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Gore, Grotesque descriptions, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping mentioned/implied, Clingy behavior, Trauma, Death, Stomach hatch scene is... disturbing as usual, Not for the faint of heart, Forced companionship.

You are right when you say he wouldn't change much from normal.

Glamrock Freddy's creation started with the rest of the Glamrock line.

He was created alongside Chica, Bonnie, Monty, and Roxy.

For the most part he was normal, no odd stomach hatch in sight.

The others were normal too.

He has you as his caretaker and is caring towards you.

The orange bear is talkative and friendly towards you, all smiles and hugs.

To explain the stomach hatch could be two things.

He gets it during the outbreak in the facility after being attacked in the stomach.

He is then revived due to an infection and given the stomach hatch adaptation.

It's that or he had complications in his creation, leading to Afton doing surgery that gave him the stomach hatch adaptation.

Personally I just never thought of the hatch idea until others brought it up.

So his original design didn't have it.

I'm not going to go too much into how he was before the facility failed.

He's his usual personality and always sticks close to his caretaker.

I say this because I feel the story gets more interesting after the fall of the Afton Facility.

Glamrock Freddy would definitely take a similar role to how his original version did.

Instead of guiding Gregory out of the Pizzaplex, he's guiding his caretaker out of the facility.

Trying to, at least.

Freddy doesn't want his caretaker to endure anymore of these horrors.

All the lights… the blood… that's not the worst part, either.

Freddy has no doubt seen his friends die and become monsters at this point.

First it was Bonnie, then it was Chica… then Monty… then Roxy….

They didn't come out of it okay unlike him.

Freddy is the least injured and feral out of all the Glamrocks.

Due to seeing all of this there's no doubt he's going to be more attached to his caretaker.

They want to leave this place… he wants to come with them and help them.

You really are all he has left.

The others keep trying to bite and claw him.

Even with the stomach hatch… he just isn't damaged enough to them, is he?

Plus… they want to hurt his dear caretaker!

Such a thing simply won't do….

Freddy no doubt wants to utilize his new stomach hatch ability but saves it for emergencies. 

The idea of using it makes even him a bit nauseous, let alone you.

Your journey mirrors that of Security Breach a bit.

You look around the facility for ways of escape, Freddy following close behind.

You get used to picking up keys and cards off dead coworkers and exploring areas.

Most of the time you're running from decaying beasts.

For the most part you try to be sneaky but Freddy also lets you know he doesn't mind getting a bit violent to protect you.

While Freddy hates using the stomach flap (?) he gains he no doubt still considers it.

Freddy knows you won't last long if he doesn't push himself.

Imagine the betrayal you feel when you're both backed into a corner.

You're prepared to give in when Freddy suddenly scoops you up and shoves you deep into his… oh no.

The feeling… disgusting.

You're covered in blood, the feeling is oddly warm and squishy, and Freddy is running.

He knows you hate it but he swears it's to keep you safe.

When it's safe… he'll let you out.

But really… When is it safe?

Maybe he should… just keep you in there.

You tickle when you push against him!

Meanwhile you're clawing at him like a scared animal, scared to scream due to the thought of blood seeping into your mouth.

You only feel slight relief when Freddy drops you out.

You slide onto the already dirty floor with a wet plap, covered in blood and possible goo.

Safe to say you're way more traumatized than you were before.

That's if he even decides to let you out.

Now I feel maybe you two could successfully escape with one another.

That would mean both Golden Freddy and Glamrock Freddy escaped with their caretakers.

Golden Freddy had an easier escape… but still.

Even if you both escape you probably want nothing to do with Freddy.

The bear is attached to you and is happy he kept you safe!

He's clingy and affectionate, claiming he's so excited to live a new life with you!

Yet you dread what'll happen if you stick around him any longer…

You even feel ill when you think of the stomach hatch he holds.

Perhaps you should just… stitch that up.

Good luck trying to abandon Glamrock Freddy once you escape, too.

He won't let you go so easily.

Especially when he has a new way to contain you.

[xmortuarykittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 3: With Your Ghost

Part 2: On the Rocks

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy × Ex!Coroner's Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, this chapter is more of your pov with how Leon’s affected your psyche. No real warnings for this one, a slow but telling chapter <3

extras: this fic will also be slow and longer, we're telling an entire story, i want it to be detailed with Reader and Leon as well as introducing Marina and Ryan. I hope you guys enjoy i have so so so many ideas and rough drafts already written. next part should be out Sunday!

Blue that's what I remembered the most about Leon Kennedy, the nights sleep evaded me. The days in which every stranger somehow had the same ocean eyes, same chubby cheeks and boyish face. How someone totally unrecognizable, morphed into a version of the man that I both loved and despised. Don't get me wrong, Leon is a bastard- a no-good, psychotic, lunatic, who deserves to be behind bars for what he's put me through. Yet, I find myself thinking about how it would've played out... had that night never happened. Had it all simply been a bad dream in itself, would we have children by now, be married? Would he still be an officer, and I, a coroner's assistant... would we have left Raccoon City together or would we have died in the bombing?

  The clink of the glass brought my vision back. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were thinking about me.", Ryan's hands cupped around mine, his fingers laced between mine, pressed to the glass in my palm. "But your brows are so furrowed i think you'll gain permanent lines.", his head appeared in my line of vision, black brows raised as his smile was wide. That was Ryan, always so sweet and caring, always the hero and the calm man. He was everything and more, my heart clenched in my chest as his thumb pad brushed the area between my brows. His digit working at the tense muscle as i felt a deep sigh leave my lips.

  "He's not going to bother you. Not while i'm here, i can call some guys from the office. We can start checking into him and get a restraining order in place-", he spoke as if he already planned it in his head and I couldn't complain. Except, for the fact, that part of me saw him, the sweet shy rookie, in those heavy blue eyes. That the years didn't change him and that he was still the shy boy who came into my office to wait on a file all that time ago. That, maybe, just maybe... it had all been a nightmare, I got them more often than not, these days. The scar on my temple reminds me daily that he wasn't a dream, that i was in the claws of some dangerous, predatory wolf cramped into a small sheep's skin.

  "Would that be okay?", his words hit the side of my cheek, breath lingering with the scent of mint, probably from the ones he keeps in his front pocket. Another thing to draw the once blonde back into my mind. "Yeah.", it doesn't sound like me, a squeak from between my lips that doesn't sound confident in the slightest. "Yeah... that would be okay.", a soft nod to reassure him with my words. His eyes shine in an uncertain light, lips twitching with unspoken questions. It wasn't normal for me to drink anymore, I wanted to be in control of my body, never so vulnerable at the hands of another again, not even Ryan, despite how sweet he is, how caring and protective.

   I couldn't do it, be broken down again. Not by someone so close, a stranger's betrayal is expected, it doesn't hurt like a loved one's betrayal. The biggest betrayal of love, what a sick thing, love itself. We can't choose who our love goes to, or if it will ever be reciprocated. I love Ryan, I love the safety blanket he surrounds me in, the love he gives back to me... but Leon's "love" felt different. It was warm but in a way that was far too hot that it burnt, as if the heat within him came up to kiss my skin, leaving burning welts in its path. A path trailed in love and destruction, his heaviness was a weight so unmovable by my own strength. Ryan gives me the option to remove the heavy weighted blanket of his love, taking a breath for a moment before I cover myself back up in his presence.

  A kiss, so soft and tender to the crown of my head, his soft, pouty lips that touched the skin of my head with the most caring feeling. I could cry, my eyes burning as the pin pricks of a sob wailing down. "I love you, I have to handle this thing for work. I'll just be in my office, okay? Call out to me for anything.", he was so fucking sweet, like an ice cream cone that was begging for my tongue to swipe across. "Of course, have fun.", the small smirk tugged at my lips, an invisible string pulling the shape together as I gave a sigh laugh. "Oh, it's going to be a joy~", his hand waving as he walked into the office room.

  His steps pattering against the floor, until the door clicks and I feel the weight of the world fall back onto my shoulders. The thick feeling in my throat coming back as I swallow down another mouthful of the whiskey, the one he had before him in the bar. I didn't see the appeal, the more expensive stuff was much better.. then again, Leon was never very flashy. He didn't care about things like that. He was not what i thought he was, he was so different. A shy man and a psycho all in one, a sweet, precious lamb, begging for a hand to pet its head, then a raging wolf, ready to penetrate its prey with the sharp, ravenous teeth. I was the prey. I know that now, it never left my mind the way it felt to hear the sickening thud of my head against the floor, to hear the tile shatter under the amount of force that was behind the hit.

  A bit of alcohol threatened to come up, splashing the back of my throat with an angry sizzle. My phone vibrates off the table, the sound grating against my already tense mind. "Hey are you okay? You left so quick after Ryan came. What happened?"- Marina, i hadn't told her anything simply telling her to call Charlie and get him to find someone to cover my shift, mascara and eyeliner coating my cheeks as it did now, Ryan guiding me past her. "I know you're reading this. The guy at the bar asked me for your number. I didn't give it to him, just so you know. I know there's something you're hiding, but it's okay, you'll tell me when you're ready. Right?", I don't think I'd ever be ready to fill her in on what happened when I was 20, the years after that trying to calm myself and remind myself there's no flesh eating monsters after me, no craze-stricken man trying to kidnap me. "Right.", It was quick and to the point, I didn't want to linger on this anymore. I wanted to face him, then again, i didn't. What would i say? I saw him and started to cry, flash backs and memories, bittersweet to the mind's taste.

  The silence was deafening once the first thunder rolled through, causing the serene atmosphere to feel a little heavier. I didn't truly mind, rain was my favorite, and a constant in this town. It seems i couldn't get far from a rainy town. The glass between my fingers, slowly lowering in volume as the rim pressed to my lips. Against my willingness to forget, I wonder if he's out in the rain, if he's still drinking at the bar or shacked up in some hotel room? I'm angry to try and think about him anymore, it was probably a fluke- he wouldn't come 3k miles just to find me, right? 7 years is a long time, he probably found someone else while he was away. I was away.

  It's not that I find myself forgiving, because I don't, nor will I forgive him. I fought myself through the "you should be grateful you were captive for very long."'s, the "others have been kidnapped and died, you survived."'s and most important, the one i still let linger. "it's not as bad as you say, you just keep making it worse for yourself."'s... those linger in the hollow of my chest and come out on bad days, like today. It's like, I'm haunted by someone who still lives. He's alive, he's here, in Seattle. He's alive, he's been alive this entire time and he's okay... physically- he's okay. Some of my questions were angered then, some things gaining closure but the back of my mind thinks it's not a coincidence, no matter how much i try to fight back those feelings. It has to be, he can't- the glass hits the table as the first round of sobs fall from my lips.

  Arms covering my face, muffling the cries. It feels like I'm stuck in a deadly dance with a man who couldn't be nearly as horrific as I remember. I remember, but it was so quick, back then it felt slow... now i struggle to remember things. The red underwear, my red underwear... I thought about it while I was sitting in his home, the day he went to work. Those were mine. They had to be, his fucking "They're mine.", excuse was a load of bullshit. Just like everything else he ever said, leaving that morning to get breakfast... while he was doing, God knows, what to Mrs. Jones. This dance was deadly, like we're dancing apart, destined to eventually bump into each other and intertwine. Maybe, tonight was that bump, that intertwining moment that sealed our inevitable meeting again. He looked so different, if he hadn't had looked up, if he just fucking kept drinking away, i wouldn't have realized, i could continue in this fantasy life,  i'd created. The life, I love, Ryan, Marina, Charlie, our boss who likes to add a little to our checks for the bullshit we put up with. My apartment, it was so much nicer than the one from before, I don't miss that life i had before. I miss Rebecca, if only i knew if she survived. I think that part of me died that night, I died the night that Raccoon City went under and the man who loved me was whisked away into a government agency. It was a sorrowful moment, but it was destined for me. I wouldn't change it. As selfish as it is, I wouldn't change it. I'm a horrible person, it's horribly selfish and heartless but I can't find a single bit of regret for that day. I'd be doing, God knows, for a man who was willing to kill for me, it's so romantic in the books and movies, but to know i slept next to someone who didn't see how wrong it was to kill an elderly woman? The thoughts made me feel sick, imagining what he probably did, how he went about it. Rebecca never got the change to tell me how she went out, Leon definitely wasn't going to tell me.

 

  I must've missed the door steps echoing in the thunder filled apartment. Probably missed the door opening too, couldn't hear over my sobs as hands found their way around my waist, the stool slightly rocking as his weight pressed behind me. A shushing sound came from his lips, his hand traveling up the valley between my breast, palm caressing my jaw. His fingers are so warm, against the cold air that hit my tears. He was a gentle giant, something Leon never truly was... was it all a facade? something to get me closer, a trap? The thought sends another wracking sob through my chest, lungs expanding under his arm. "It's okay, now, my sweet girl. I'm here, you're safe and nothing's going to tear you away from me.", his words were calming, but nothing had a name, Leon Scott Kennedy and I knew deep down, now that the bunny was in the wolf's sight... the game had only just begun.

[darkbluekies]

☁️ i dont request much cause i dont wanna be too annoying but since nobody requests for jerry... 🤓

what happens if she comes home and encounters several men attempting to kidnap her darling?

In a maze of horror

Female!mafia!yandere OC x reader

Jerry brings you on a mission and lets her possessiveness get the best of her which results in enemies trying to take you away from her.

Warnings: a lot of violence, blinding someone, slitting throat, blood, obsession, nudity (not nsfw) drugs + weed, one suggestive indication

Word count: 3k

I paired it with this ask⬇️

Jerry has brought you with her on a mission. She can't take more of your whining about being bored. Your emotions are like a ticking time bomb. Thankfully, this mission isn't dangerous. You're currently in the front seat of a car on a countryside road, going to a farm. On the outside, it looks like a normal farm industry, but hidden underneath those chicken eggs are drugs people can only imagine. It's Jerry's boss who's sent her out here to do the business. Jerry is the only one he trusts since she's his right hand man. Her boss doesn't mind you as long as you're not in the way. Jerry has told her boss that if he ever touches a hair on your head, she's killing him and taking the role of the boss herself. It had made him back off.

"Jerry", you say.

"Yes?" Jerry asks from the driver's seat.

"Will there be real animals there?"

"Why wouldn't there be?"

"If it's just a cover up for drug business … maybe there aren't real animals."

"Maybe you can cuddle a goat while I do the business."

You smile slightly. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest. The entire idea of having to join in on one of Jerry's missions terrifies you. Things can go wrong and then you're in the front line. And what will you do if the cops come? You haven't actually done anything wrong, but they'll not care. You're involved. That's enough.

"I want to go back", you say with a thin voice. "Can't we turn around?"

"Were almost there", Jerry sighs. "It's taken us one hour to get here, I'm not turning the car around."

The panic builds in your chest and you start to hit the seat. Jerry captures your hand in hers.

"Stop that", she demands sternly. 

"I don't want to go!" you shout. "I changed my mind! Jerry, please-"

"You whined about coming with me, you can’t change your mind now. What are you so afraid of?"

"Everything. What happens if that man on the farm decides to kill us?"

"He won't. He needs the money and if he kills us he won't get it. Don't be scared."

Jerry's not unfamiliar to your mood swings. You get easily caught up in your own feelings and they double when you're stressed.

She pulls over to the side of the road and grabs a painful hold of your hand.

"Baby, look at me", she says. 

When you do, you are met by her dark eyes.

"Your sensitivity will be the death of you if you don't control it", she tells you. "Hold it in and everything will be fine. As soon as we get home I'll take care of you."

"Do you promise?"

"No, Y/N, I'm just joking." She rolls her eyes. "Of course I promise!"

You wipe your tears.

"I'm sorry", you whisper. 

You know that Jerry can't stand your emotional outbursts. They annoy her.

"Baby, you should be lucky I love you", Jerry sighs heavily and starts to drive again. "Otherwise I'd gotten rid of you a long time ago."

"I can stay in the car if you're afraid of me embarrassing you."

Jerry glares at you. "No fucking way, you're going to stay by my side. I'm going to handcuff your hand to mine if you continue to talk like that."

"I don't want to ruin anything for you … I know how important this is for you …"

"Oh, Y/N, shut the fuck up already!"

You flinch at her loud voice.

"I'd rather have you weeping like a fucking baby clinging onto my shoulder than have you out of my sight!" Jerry continues. "You shouldn't care about ruining anything for me because in the end, I'm the one that controls the situation. I'll always fix what you mess up because you're mine to care for. I'll always take the blame for the shit you do, so stop worrying about it. All you need to know is that you should stay by my side. Got it?"

You nod quickly.

Jerry drives into the farm's parking lot. She nods at you to get out. She grabs your hand as quickly as she reaches you.

"Now just be quiet and do as I say", Jerry tells you. "If you start to cry again, hide behind me."

You nod. Jerry pulls you with her to a big building made of blurry plastic — most likely a garden.

"Sean, you imbecile, where are you?" Jerry shouts.

A man looking higher as a kite sticks his head up between the rows of plants.

"Come on, Sean, did you have to smoke before we came?" Jerry groans.

"It's not my fault that you scare the living crap out of me, Jerry", the man spits back. “I had to do something to relax.”

"I will not only scare the crap out of you if stop fucking around. Hurry up! I don't have all day."

"Fine, fine." The man walks over to her, giving you a look. "Who's that?"

"No one you need to care about. Just give me what I want and then go back to filling your empty head with weed."

The man named Sean rolls his eyes and gestures for the two of you to follow him. Jerry gives you a firm look when you tug at her leather jacket. You sigh and look down at the ground. 

You walk into the chicken house. The sight of the birds causes your heart to swell. Oh how pretty they are. They look so nice. You reach out your hand to touch one that comes walking over to you. 

“Don’t fucking touch it!” the man shouts with a raspy voice. 

You flinch heavily and back away with wide, terrified eyes. Jerry gives you a quick look over her shoulder before she steps in front of you and picks up her gun, directing it towards the high man. You hide behind your human shield. 

“Don’t you dare shout at my baby”, Jerry growls with a warning, steady voice that sends shivers down your spine. She speaks through gritted teeth. “Get down on your knees and apologize. Now.”

The man trembles as he pathetically sinks down on his knees. You peek out from behind Jerry to see him glaring at you while mumbling out an apology.

“Pathetic little shit”, Jerry scoffs at Sean. “My baby wanted to touch a hen, why the fuck would you care, huh? You only use them to hide your filthy business.” She turns her head to you. “Pick up a hen, Y/N.”

You shake your head. 

“Pick up a goddamn hen”, Jerry orders. 

Your shaking hands pick up one of the birds and hold it against your chest. 

“Good girl/boy”, Jerry praises you before turning back to the man with a harsher voice. “See? The world didn’t end. Now give me what I came for before I blow your head up.”

The man collects the small bags of drugs for Jerry as she holds the gun towards him. You cuddle the hen while Jerry does her business. It gives you comfort. The small, living thing in your hands reassures you somehow. It’s little, warm body feels comforting in your arms. 

“Let’s go, Y/N”, Jerry says. “I’m done.”

You sigh as you put down the hen on the floor. Jerry grabs your arm and pulls you out.  

"Go wait in the car, I'll be there soon", Jerry says and pushes you towards the car. "Don't try to run."

"What are you going to do?" you ask.

"I didn't like how he looked at you. I won't be able to feel at ease unless I take care of him."

"Are you going to … to kill him?"

"No. I'm going to make sure he won't be able to see anyone again."

You beg her to reconsider and not do it, but she's already made up her mind. You run over and hug her to prevent her. Tears run down your cheeks and Jerry sighs heavily. She pushes you off of her and you can tell that your emotions once again have annoyed her.

"Car, now", she orders you sternly. "Don't make me fucking repeat myself."

You listen to her this time. You might turn blind too if you're not careful. With a singing feeling in your stomach you drag yourself to the car while Jerry returns to the chicken house. You hide your face and cover your ears to block out the screams of Sean. They echo through the countryside, over acres and fields. 

Jerry returns ten minutes later with bloody hands. You refuse to look at her. Tears run down your cheeks and Jerry does nothing to try to wipe them. 

"There's snacks for you in the hand compartment", she says simply and starts the engine.

Your shaking hands reach out to the handle in front of you, finding a pack of gummy bears. Silently, you start chewing the candy which tastes salty thanks to your tears.

A few days pass by. You’ve managed to heal from the mess at the farm and Jerry has gone back to being herself. Not too mad, not too nice. You’re no longer allowed to come with her on the missions and you’re unsure that you’d want to. She leaves during the day and comes back late at night. Everything seems to be normal. Or that's what you think.

You’re at home watching TV like any other day. You’ve been binge watching ‘Family Guy’ for the last week and are just about to start season seventeen when a ‘click’ grabs your attention. Confused, you turn the volume down and eventually turn it off.

“Jerry, is that you?” you ask over your shoulder. “Why are you back so early?”

The light turns off. You freeze in your position, carefully hugging yourself.

“Sorry, darling, but we aren’t your mistress.”

You flinch at the strange voice and turn around fully to see three men entering the living room armed with knives. 

“Who the fuck are you?!” you gasp, pressing yourself closer to the couch when they’re moving closer, eventually grabbing your arm. “Don’t touch me!”

“Now be a good girl/boy and stay still.”

The knives glisten in the light. You start to kick and hit, doing everything that Jerry has taught you. She’s known that you’ve had to defend yourself sooner or later. She’s brought you to gyms to train you up, but seeing you drenched in sweat with hair sticking to your forehead turns the fight into another wrestling match that doesn’t teach you anything but how her body works. 

You’re using all of your techniques, combining them into one murderous performance. But they’re not enough for three armed muscular men. They’re getting in hit after hit and swings their knives around. 

Jerry notices that something’s wrong the second she gets off her motorcycle. She finds the front doors off its hinges and the light switched off. She reaches for the knives strapped to her legs. 

A scream catches her attention. Your scream.

"Y/N?" Jerry asks quickly, looking around. "Y/N, where are you?"

"Jerry, help!" you shout. “Help me!”

The panicked tone in your voice is enough for Jerry to be filled with new adrenaline. She follows the sound of thumping and thus, finding you in the living room. Surrounded by three men. You're bruised and blood drips from your nose and lips. Jerry takes a better grip on her knives, feeling how her vision turns red.

"Get the fuck away from them", she says warningly. 

One of the men grabs you and pulls you up against his chest, a knife positioned over your throat. Your eyes glow in fear.

"You blinded our dealer and ruined our chance to get our drugs that we paid dear for", he says. "It's not more than right for us to take something from you. To make up for it. An eye for an eye, to say. If you excuse the pun."

The man above you gives a bloody grin, but Jerry doesn't move a muscle. 

"You're not taking Y/N anywhere", she says in a dark tone you've had the pleasure of never hearing until now. "And if you're so stupid to think that you can take them from me, then I'll make sure you understand."

The following moments are brutal. Jerry throws one knife at the man who’s holding you captive, hitting him in the leg. He drops you and you fall forward. The other two try their best to get you, but Jerry throws one knife into his neck and kicks the other between his legs. She’s quick to grab your arm and throws you behind her. You fall down on the floor by the force and you’re too tired to hold yourself up. She still has two knives left strapped to her leg. With one, she slits the man she kicked in the throat and the other she plunges right into the heart of the man who had held you. With trembling hands, she turns around to look at you with wide eyes. You’re both covered in blood, both bruised and full of adrenaline. You could never have thought that you’d be this similar to Jerry. She embraces you tightly and for once shows her rare emotions. She kisses your forehead and hides your face into her shaking, bloody shoulder with her trembling hands.

"Fucking hell ... oh my ... come, Y/N, let's leave." She pulls you up on your feet. "We can't stay here, they've found out where I live. I'm sorry, I honestly thought you were safe here. I'm so fucking stupid. Come, baby doll, it'll be okay. You can walk, I'm sure. Don't be scared, they're dead."

“I’m so fucking scared, Jerry …”, you whisper.

She runs her shaking hand through your hair. “I know, baby. Don’t be. I’ll always protect you, okay? You don’t have to worry. Come on now, we have to leave before someone notices what’s happened.”

She drags you out to her motorcycle as she fishes up her phone, calling her boss. 

“Boss, I’m in so much shit!” she hisses as he picks up. “So much fucking shit.”

“What have you done?” her boss asks. 

“I might have blinded Sean because he was disrespecting Y/N and his customers found out. They found where I live, boss! They tried to fucking kidnap Y/N! I killed them, but I’m worried there will come more soon.”

“Come to the headquarters. We’ll figure this out.”

“Get a room ready for Y/N. They need to rest.”

“Fine.”

Jerry hangs up and turns to you. You’ve sitten down on the asphalt and started to cry. Normally, she would shout at you for being so wimpish, like last time … but this time she can’t blame you. 

“Baby …”, she sighs heavily and lifts you up on your feet. “Come here. You’ll get to sleep soon. They’ll fix a room for you at the headquarters where you’ll get to rest. Jump up on my motorcycle.”

And you do. She forces you to hug her from behind as she drives all the way to the headquarters. You rest your cheek on her shoulder. 

The second she stops, you jump off, already sick to your stomach. Jerry drags you into the headquarters — a building underground. She tells you to keep your eyes shut to avoid seeing something you shouldn’t. She leads you by the arm through dimly lit corridors until she reaches her boss’ office. You open your eyes and look at the man. 

“Jerry!” he breathes out and stands up from behind his desk. “You look like shit!”

He’s about to turn his eyes to you, but Jerry covers you with her body.

“I feel like shit”, she mutters and pushes you forward. “They need a room. And to wash themselves.”

“The showers and a guest room are ready for them. We need to talk about this and see how much shit you’ve put me in.”

“Got it, boss. Let me just get myself cleaned up before I lose my fucking mind. It’s cold.”

She doesn’t wait for a response. You get dragged to a bathroom where Jerry starts to strip. 

“Take off those clothes”, Jerry says over her shoulder. “We’ll burn them.”

You remove your clothes with shaking hands, not wanting to see what your body looks like. Jerry pulls you into a shower and turns on the water. She lets you sit down on the tiled floor with your back against the wall. Jerry washes you before she washes herself. Her actions are soft and gentle, a contrast to her normal personality. She must have gotten really scared tonight. She's stuck in a maze of horror and all she wants is to keep you out of it. She wants to find the exit, but it's always moving, trapping her deeper.

“You’re only mine, you know that, right?” she whispers in your ear. 

“Yeah”, you whisper. 

“And you know that I’ll never let anyone take you from me, right?”

“Yeah …”

Jerry gives your wet lips a deep kiss. She holds you in her arms, running her hand over your back to sooth you. She whispers possessive nothings into your ear, about how you’re hers, only hers, that no one will take you away from her. And somewhere in your manipulated mind, you calm down. 

When you’ve dried yourself and put on a bathrobe, you’re led to a bedroom. Jerry tells you to go to sleep as she’s going to go talk with her boss. 

“Please don’t leave”, you whisper. “I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of”, Jerry says. “The door will be locked and I will be the only one with the key. I’ll be back later after my boss kicks my ass. I can tell that he’s not happy. But I don’t regret a damn thing. Sleep well, baby doll.”

With that said, she gives you a slight smirk before closing the door after her. She locks the door and feels the handle twice to make sure you’re going to be safe. After, she braces herself for a scolding so long that it’ll burn into her mind. But Jerry stands by her decision to have blinded Sean. He was looking at something that belonged to her. No one does that. 

[cologona]

If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

[luna-lokisdottir]

Meeting Wilbur - Music Giant AU

(This is so bad for my first writing. You might think it's good, but I don't)

-------

"Tallulah!" The young giant heard her papa called out

She gasped and then looked at the human before exclaiming, "Papa!" getting up to greet her father at the cave entrance, Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"Papa?" he parroted.

There were more of them? Oh gods.. if there were that, just made Tommy more nervous. A baby giant was bad enough, but a full-grown one? that was a whole other story.. what were they gonna do to him?

"Papa!" he heard her exclaim in an excited tone, He watched as the other giant gasped excitedly, "Tallulah! mi niña!" he replied with the same excitement his daughter gave him, embracing his daughter in a big hug as he ruffled her hair up, Tallulah giggled as she returned the hug, and then she seemed to have remembered that Tommy was there because she quickly followed up with:

"Papa! I have something to show you!"

The Giant raised his eyebrows curiously, "Oh?" he said Tommy felt the vibrations in the ground as he exited the hug.

"What is it, love?" Tommy watched as a little grin grew on the younger ones face, and then, without any real warning, he was picked up from off of the ground and cupped into her hands he jolted as she walked over to her father to show him.

Wilbur crouched down as his daughter brought the human to him, just to gain a better look. "Ta da!" she raised her hands up to the giant who looked in surprise when he saw the little human in his daughters hands.

Tommy, on the other hand, was naturally terrified, this giant was BIG at least several feet taller than his child and given the look on his face he didn't seem too happy about him being there, Tommy gave a nervous little wave to the giant who looked down at him and then back at his child questioning:

"You brought a human into our home?" in a light yet slightly suspicious tone, Tallulah's face fell as she lowered her hands and brought Tommy closer to herself.

"Well.. no- technically, he brought himself into our home."

"That's even worse!" The Giant exclaimed as he looked back down at the human before adding:

"Tallulah, I've told you how dangerous humans are. They're smarter than they look. They'd kill us if they had the chance." The young giant looked down as her father explained this to her, "I know.. but can I just keep him Papa? please! I'd keep an eye on him if he tries anything, and he really doesn't seem like he has anywhere else to go!" she said.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at the question, "Keep him?" he laughed lightly, "Lulah he probably has a family to go back to, we shouldn't hold him back he probably has a life too, you know."

"Please, Papa?" Tommy had to stop himself from laughing as the young giant gave her father puppy dog eyes, Wilbur sighed.. how could he say no to that face?

Tommy just kind of vibes as the two giants talked it out while being kept by a giant didn't seem like a good idea, he kind of had no where else to go since Cellbit's guards were still after him.

So, maybe this could work? For the time being, at least stay with the two giants until they finally stopped looking for him; "I-" he cleared his throat, which got the other male's attention he looked down nervously those big brown eyes were intimidating to look at even if they meant no harm.

"I actually wouldn't mind staying here with her, if that's alright." He said. Honestly, he couldn't believe that those words came out of his mouth. Wilbur raised an eyebrow while Tallulah gasped in excitement.

"Are you sure?" the giant replied, "I don't want to take you from your family or friends or whoevers waiting for you back there."

Tommy shook his head.

Although a little suspicious, Wilbur sighed and eventually gave in; "Then I guess.. he can stay." Tallulah smiled widely as she exclaimed in excitement.

"Thank you, Papa!" she smiled as she hugged her father. He laughed as he patted her on the head, "I'll take good care of him, I promise." The girl smiled, Tommy looked up at her as she took him into her side of the cave and thought to himself, 'Oh gods.. what did I get myself into-'