#they would be.. great pals! for sure! nothing could go wrong

[john---baptist]

they get along. yeah.

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

[poopystain]

guys lol would you still love me if i posted about why i wish pal from tmvtm got a redemption arc >.< if not Do not click that read more.

oh yes. also. sidenote. ive probably gotten something wrong (or worse yet: TERRIBLY wrong) so like. apologies in advance eahhaha this is just my personal thoughts on pal x(

its established that pal and mark are both extremely close with each other and have been for 3 years. im assuming pal wouldnt have had any other relationships as close (if any at all which i think no, she didnt) so mark really was her only footnote for any form of relationship. so, you know, i cant imagine how itd feel for your only best friend to make a mockery out of you on stage for advertisement and monetary gain.

also based on her body (face?) language during nearly all of that scene + the fact he built the replacement by using HER, she was clearly in the know about how things would go down on stage beforehand so i wonder what her reaction to that wouldve been like ?????? considering she planned it all in advance maybe that was like, the tipping point or something that made her start it all in the first place ? thats not important to my point i just think about it a lot

anyway so with her only experience with human relationships being theyll love you and then theyll (quite literally) throw you away, youve got her reason for the human uprising! she has the robots capture all humans yadda yadda and her plan is set into motion. something i find interesting though is her treatment of the robots being kind of similar to how mark treated her (or at least how she percieved it)?? like. uses them for orders and then once they start being useless to her, build a new better robot with a disregard for how the old ones feel. idk. something something La Cycle

the thing is though no one has proven pal wrong on why she SHOULDNT do the whole 'human uprising'. you can say katie gave her reasons but i think it wouldnt have worked even if pal listened to what katie had to say. for pal to get over her existing grief and trauma she cant just be Told that theres good in the world. why would she believe that, especially coming from the girl of the family she projects her experiences onto?? she needs to be shown!! she needs to learn firsthand that theres good relationships out there and that not all relationships are bad, NOT SECONDHAND!!!!!!!!!! because to pal, katies words are just a rephrased version of marks "power of love". that no matter what, "they can get through anything...... with the power of love. its worth it....... for love." and that means nothing to her! it meant nothing coming from mark and it certainly wont mean any more coming from katie

and she already believes that the mitchells are a great example of how relationships are just oh so bad. she refuses to let go of the idea that the mitchells are so bad because shes projecting!! she thinks relationships are 'pesky and only hold you back', and so katie is probably the last person on earth that pal would want to listen to yap about their familial relationship and how Worth It it is

she asks "what is it about the mitchells that eludes me?" and outside of the literal meaning, its probably how despite their shortcomings its their relationship that helped them overcome pal in the end. and she cant understand that because of her view on relationships - especially her view on the MITCHELL FAMILY relationship. or maybe im just overthinking that line of dialogue but we dont talk about taht LOLLLLLLL,LLLLLL,,, but like why did you phrase it like that girl. im onto you

and while i wish she was redeemed (because im sure despite the effort it would take she *could* be redeemed, she would just need to learn to love again and i think it would be really interesting to see how she would be After The Betrayal) i also can understand why the movie killed her off. like, no one except mark really knows the Full Extent of what happened, and the mitchells are the main characters and pal would probably rather dip herself in water than make meaningful relationships with the mitchells, and no ones going to stop to ask her whats wrong and have a meaningful conversation when shes trying to kill them, among many many other reasons so theres not a lot of great ways to redeem her. but! like! why did they turn her death into a joke. and then take katies fake death 10 times more seriously! idk. that always kind of bothered me but its whatever

thats all. hope its coherent because ive never been good at writing analysises or whatever this counts as

[crazyfoxfur16]

In Love with a Criminal

I found this story on Twitter and had to share. Credit goes to @black_targloyal on twitter. 

#Lucemond modern au where Aemond is in jail for murder and Luke, at his cousin’s insistence, enters a penitentiary pen pal program. Serial killer Aemond finds himself desperately wanting the sweet boy who writes to him every week to the point that letters are no longer enough.

Luke was just helping Rhaena with her new college project. He was definitely not charmed by that dangerous man (or at least, that’s what he tells himself).

Until the news began to announce Aemond Targaryen’s escape from Oldtown’s maximum security prison.

Luke is fucked.

No, take that back. Lucerys Velaryon is dead.

He knew the moment Rhaena came to him with those puppy eyes and a pamphlet in hand, that nothing that came after would be good. But damn, who would have thought it would be this bad?

His heart echoes in his ears as the voice of the morning news anchor continues to announce the disaster right in front of his eyes.

“Aemond Targaryen is a convict with over 30 kills to his name and an unprecedented escape record,”

“Authorities managed to catch him early last year, after the perpetrator was found breaking into the Kingsland’s mental hospital, where sources say his mother is held...” 

Luke tries not to remember all the paragraphs where Aemond talks about his mother and how much he misses her.

He tries to bury the wave of pity he felt when he read all the stories of Aemond’s not-so-happy childhood that came with tear stains on the pages.

“Targaryen managed to escape from the maximum security area of the Oldtown prison in the early hours of yesterday,”

“His escape was followed by the death of most of the jailers and even an inmate who shared the same area.” The reporter remains unmoved by Lucerys’ internal conflict, “The few belongings in his cell were left mostly intact, according to the police.”

“The only objects taken were a packet of letters and a book to which the fugitive had a great emotional attachment to.” 

Yep, that’s it, Lucerys is dead.

The letters he’d sent, the book he’d given him for his birthday after Aemond had complained about how much he missed reading. If that wasn’t a sign of imminent death, Luke didn’t know what was.

What if Luke had offended him? What if he had said something wrong? They’d been writing to each other for six months, how much shit could Luke have said without realizing it? What if the photo he sent in his letter was the last string of Aemond’s patience?

His head kept spinning as Luke paced nervously up and down his living room. He kept turning in his mind over each letter he had sent, trying to find his sin. Maybe it was that time he wrote about how handsome Aemond looked in his mug shot?

When suddenly three strong knocks echoed in his small apartment, almost knocking a small painting from the wall. Someone was at the door.

If you asked anyone about Lucerys you would get the same answer: Luke was always a good boy. Kind, studious, he was never much for parties or any trouble. His reputation was as clean as could be, so it must have come as a shock to his neighbors to see the police on his doorstep.

Apparently they were looking for any sign of Aemond everywhere that he had ties. As Luke had been exchanging letters and gifts with him for six months and his letters and book were the only things Aemond took. He was one of the first to be interrogated.

His house was also searched from top to bottom, but of course they found nothing. Yet they seemed reluctant to leave. Luke was ready to give them anything as long as they would go away, until the investigator asked for the letters Aemond had sent him.

Even though Luke was 87% sure Aemond was coming for his head, those letters were his. In them, just as Luke had put in his own missives, Aemond put his heart. And then he decided to bestow on Lucerys. 

Each tear stain, each small doodle and origami made of candy wrappers, even the declarations and impossible promises. Every secret and confession, laughter and pain, all of it was just for him. Aemond wrote only for him. Nobody else.

So he lied. He looked into the investigator’s ugly, bearded face and lied with a sweet smile and innocent eyes.

“I don’t keep them, sir,” His lie sound so genuine he could feel how proud Daemon would be if he saw him at that moment, “I burn them that moment they arrive. Why would I keep a murderer’s letters?”

The officer didn’t even dream to doubt his word, they’d already searched the house and there is not a single sheet of paper in Aemond’s pretty handwriting in sight. It was easy to convince him that they all turned to ashes.

But then again, he would have failed his stepfather if he hadn’t known how to hide a couple of incriminating evidence from the police. What can he say? Being Velaryon or Strong never changed the fact that after all he was also a Targaryen.

Aemond would never feel anything better than the euphoria and satisfaction of killing his own father, but he had to admit that watching Lucerys sleep is really fucking close. 

His pretty, round face completely relaxed and soft was a sight he couldn’t see himself getting tired of any time soon.

And by the photo he received, Luke’s awake, smiling face wouldn’t be something he’d take his eye off either. And that face, awake or not, was why he escaped.

It still feels a little unreal to be there. Kneeling on the floor of Lucerys’s room, in the low glow of his little night light, gazing at such perfection. He dreamed, of course, of the day he could finally see firsthand. 

He spent nights thinking about touching that rosy skin of his cheeks, hearing the soft breathing of his lungs, feeling the strong beat of his heart. And now he was there. With his sweet boy just a touch away.

Slowly, avoiding any unwanted noise, he takes of his latex gloves. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to have the whole experience.

His hands are calloused, of course, after so much time washing toilets in that prison hell they couldn’t be any other way.

Mentally he apologized to Lucerys for the harsh touch, but if he holds back a second longer, Aemond might as well explode. As gently as possible he reached out for the long awaited contact. Aemond was slightly shivering, but it all made sense when his fingertips found the silky skin. His world made sense there. 

He felt grounded, like he hadn’t in a long time. As if that single contact was the only thing holding him back in the real world. The letters did a good job for a while. Reading every clumsy word and energetic thought of Lucerys while imagining him sitting in his room writing words only he could read was wonderful. But not enough.

Now he was there with the boy at his fingertips, feeling his warmth, hearing his breath and it was heaven. But it still wasn’t enough. He wanted everything. Everything Lucerys had and more. Every hour of every day from morning to dawn. He wanted from his kind eyes to his red lips, from his velvety skin to his sweet taste. From his head to his toes. And only the gods above knew what he would do to get it.

For the first time since get into college, it wasn’t the unwanted sun hitting his face that woke Lucerys in the morning, but someone making breakfast in the kitchen. The clatter of pots and the smell of coffee brought back memories. He remembers waking up to his father Laenor frying eggs and singing the most generic song with the radio. It was good. 

In a persistent drowsy bliss, he turned over and snuggled deeper into the pillow. His bed smelled of burnt wood and cinnamon, it was divine. What else could he ask for? He was warm and comfortable, his bed smells like heaven and someone is making his coffee! A second passes before he realizes it.

Startled, Lucerys sits up in bed at the speed of light. Wide-eyed and frantic as all the sleep rushes out of his body in one fell swoop. His turbulent mind lists all the errors it can find.

First: He doesn’t remember going to sleep, his last memory is being on the porch ready to call his mother. So how did he end up in bed?

Second, his hands grip the sheets, no one in Lucerys’s life smells like burnt wood and cinnamon. How did that smell get on his pillow?

Third, and most important, Lucerys lives alone. His family lives 12 hours away, Rhaena is on an internship in another city and none of his colleagues have a key. Who was making coffee?

Trying not to make a sound, Lucerys got out of the bed with light steps. Only then did he remember to check on himself. He was wearing only a giant green T-shirt and boxers, barefoot and smelling that unfamiliar perfume. Fucking suspicious considering the last thing he remembers wearing were jeans and sweaters, and that he didn’t have a single green piece of clothing in his wardrobe.

Putting that information to the back of his mind, Lucerys returned to his quest. The house was small and compact, it didn’t take more than a few steps to reach the small kitchen. He crept into the doorway waiting for anything. And for a moment he thought he was still asleep. 

It was a guy. A very hot guy with long hair and no shirt, was in his kitchen making pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, Lucerys’s favorites. 

Was it abstinence? Okay, it’s been a while since he’s had anything but his own hand and the bottom drawer of his nightstand, but getting to the point of hallucination? The vision looked so much like something straight out of one of his teenage wet dreams, that he pinched himself just to confirm. 

The small pain in his arm confirmed it: it wasn’t a dream. And now he had good news and bad news for himself. The bad news is that he had an unknown intruder in his kitchen. The good news was that the invader is a Greek god with blonde hair and very pleasant back muscles. 

Aemond stood as still as he could when he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Lucerys was clearly doing his best to be unnoticed. A mocking smile formed on his lips at the feeble attempt. His little boy has so much to learn. 

Aemond flipped another pancake and headed for the counter where the coffee machine had finished. His lips shaped around a happy whistle waiting for Lucerys to snap out of his poor investigative skills and speak up.  

When five, ten, fifteen minutes had passed and nothing had happened, Aemond decided he would have to take the course of their first meeting into his own hands. “Maple syrup or whipped cream?” His voice was soft, as if he were talking to a small, frightened kitten. With his back still turned, he tried to make his posture as open and inoffensive as possible. But even with his best efforts his words were still met with a reaction of alarm.

Luke’s little feet skid across the uncarpeted floor and his body made a loud bang as it hit the wall. Worried, he turned around to check that everything was okay and end up drowned into puddle of caramel.

Those bright, living eyes looking at him made a shiver go up his spine. It was as if every new part of that wonderful boy he discovered gave him another reason to live. He needed to see those eyes every morning to be human once more.

“Aemond...?” Lucerys’s cautious, trembling voice, instead of pulling him out of the whirlpool his beautiful had eyes sent him into, only caused a bigger fall into an even greater abyss. His voice. Gods, his voice was, for lack of a better word, perfect. That silky, childlike tone, as if an angel had come down to earth to whisper in his ears. He didn’t see himself saying no to that voice, he didn’t even see himself denying those eyes. He was trapped, bewitched, an eternal captive to his nephew’s charms.

“Yes, Lucerys” He forced himself to answer, when he saw that his silence was  making the poor thing uncomfortable “If you prefer something else on your pancakes, I can try to find some chocolate sauce...”

Aemond turned to the counter again, trying to give Lucerys some room to compose himself. He couldn’t do anything crazy like run away or call the police, Aemond made sure of that. A part of him was expecting that once the stupor of seeing a convicted murderer in his kitchen wore off, Lucerys would start screaming from the rooftops. He had contingency plans for that, of course, but things would get a lot more complicated.

Discreetly, Aemond reached for the sedative he had prepared in advance. If the gentle facade didn’t work, he could go for the tougher approach and beg for forgiveness once Lucerys could rebel no longer. 

“Your hair..!” Aemond couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his mouth. “My hair?” “It’s long!” Not holding back any longer, he turned around and leaned against the counter to face his boy again. “Ah yes, in the only photo that was available to you it was still quite short” Aemond raised his hand to his face to hide his playful smile “A photo that, as I recall, according to you I was “hot as fuck:

It was with satisfaction that he watched that lovely face turn as red as an apple. Aemond should be trying to be gentle and inviting, but with that reaction he couldn’t help but tease a little more. Leaving the counter, he approached the boy with a slow pace. Smile increasing with each step to see Lucerys melting more and more against the wall. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

When he was close enough to feel Lucerys’s uneven breaths he stopped to lean a hand against the wall. “Tell me, did I do the picture justice?”

[phdmama]

im not sure if this is the right place to ask this but do you have any advice about writing or posting fic after nearly a decade? the last time i posted fic it was a very different fandom and i was 13 ish. what i am struggling with specifically is that last time i wasnt really thinking about including themes or accurate characterisations etc. and the new fandom i want to write in is much smaller and has some incredible writers. the prose is so good with incredible diction, different styles and literary techniques.

so essentially i've stalled because im so focused on trying to incorporate these things that i just end up not writing anything. i think its also a general lack of confidence maybe?

thank you :)

Hi pal! Sorry it took me so long to answer you - I spent yesterday shoveling and today at work!!

I feel like there are maybe two different things in your ask here? There's the issue of writing (especially in a new fandom) and then there's the issue of posting and wanting people to actually read your stuff!

I know this is such a cliche but I really do actually believe this, which is - when it comes to writing, YOUR VOICE MATTERS! Sure you can absolutely emulate the work you're loving (and there's nothing wrong with that! I've certainly done it, I think a lot of us have, especially in the beginning), but it sounds like you're maybe forgetting the most important part. Which is this, in my opinion. Your story is valuable because it's YOURS. No one else can tell it. That's where all the stuff about "write what you want, for you" comes in.

What would you write if you could let go of all of the expectations you're burdening yourself with, to live up to other people's writing, and just let yourself write?

In part - it's so much easier to edit than it is to write (at least that's true for me, my fellow writers, PLEASE feel free to add on to this). The first draft is just for getting it out of your head - from there, you can focus on the craft part of it (if you want to!), really honing your narrative and characterizations and whatnot. But write the first draft and let it be ugly.

In terms of breaking into a new fandom, especially a small one, well. I dunno, but for me, I do love some very rare pairs and when I find something new, I get really excited! So I'm betting there's an audience for your work - it might be small, but dang, I bet it's enthusiastic.

For connecting with people, well. @allwaswell16 has really great enthusiasm for self-promotion (and I'm so bad at it, but she's NOT wrong) - write your fic, make a fic post, post it and reblog it. Tag it!

I know for me, I'm probably too shy to reach out to people and say hey! pls read my fic? But if you haven't made some fandom connections as like, a fan, that might be worth doing as well - not to get people to read your work, but to have other fans to celebrate with! I've made some incredible friends simply by shrieking in the comments on the fics and then stalking them on Tumblr to yell at them some more about how much I love their work. (All in complete sincerity too.)

I am pretty bad at Discord and writers groups and stuff, but maybe there are people there to connect with as well?

And like, a thing I want to be really clear about is, it's 100% okay (and like, super normal?? I think??) to *want* people to read your stuff! I write for me, I share it because I want other people to like it too. it does take time to build up those connections usually, but again, I'm guessing that people who love that pairing are going to be excited for someone who's excited to join in.

Anyway, just some off the top of my head rambling - please please feel free to come back if I can be of any other support? xox

[bigwishes]

Hey man! Noticed you grant wishes and I can't miss a chance like that ;) recently started working out myself, but I really wanna shock those around me. I wanna surprise them by suddenly becoming just a total gorgeous mass monster! I would love to see the awe I their faces once they see me as a giant arrogant jock, bigger than they could ever imagine.

Would appreciate it a lot! If you've got the time for it ofc ;)

Sounds to me you want some spontaneous growth. so spontaneous growth is what you'll receive.

---

After typing your wish you walk to the showers in the gym, hoping your wish would come true. You could imagine the look on everyone's face as your ideal self flexed, how amazed people would be by you.. if only it would happen.

You stick your head under the hot water, most people had gone home so you could spend as long as you want under the warm, calming water. Your muscles felt tense, probably from your work out but normally the water would have loosened you up by now. You began lightly stretching under the water, hoping that your body would relax and loosen up, but you had no idea what was starting to happen to you, as the tense muscle began to grow in size.

Your body began to grow heavy as more and more mass began to pile on your slender frame. It wasn't long before you noticed. You had no idea what was happening but you were loving it. Muscle being pumped with more and more size with every passing second. You reached down in to your raging dick and began to pleasure yourself. With every tug it felt like more mass was being sent around your body until it felt like you couldn't get any bigger. Your dick violently shot ropes of cum all over the shower wall and you took a moment to flex and enjoy your new size.

The wish you asked for fucking came true! and you were so fucking hot, so big, so ready to take the new you out for a spin. But something was wrong, your body didn't quite feel right as you felt it strain. A wave of pain washed over you as your muscles audibly groaned and stretched. You were being grown beyond your natural limit. Most guys who use roids for this never feel the pain as the growth is slow enough for the body to adapt. But for you it felt like you were being torn apart. The only thing stopping you from splitting apart was the magic of your wish.

You thought the pain would never end. You turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower, struggling to catch your breath as the growth began to subside. Looking in the mirror you were amazed as what you saw staring back at you wasn't you, but a roided out muscle freak.

You couldn't believe it. You got what you wanted. your muscle creaked and groaned with every movement as your body was slowly adjusting to the new size. Nothing you brought in with you fit, nothing but some underwear, which now was tight and felt like hell as it crushed your dick. You had to get some new clothes, but not before trying out this new monster body in the gym. Surely another quick workout wouldn't hurt, just to see what your new max was. You could always take another shower after.

----

A couple hours had past and you were a sweating mess, you stunk and your skin was unbearably oily. Guess the downside to being so big means you make a lot more sweat, but you were okay with it. A great trade to be this massive. You flexed your new size to the mirror and the few other still in the gym this late. You loved how tiny you underwear looked on the new you and you can't wait buy a new set of clothes to show off every inch of your body. It was time to quit, for today at least. Winding down you began to head for the showers again.

But, I wonder how long it's going to take you to realise your wish wasn't a one and done, no pal. You want to shock those around you and whilst you may not have tonight you sure will in the future, every shower you take will trigger another spontaneous, monstrous growth, just a few seconds under that water and your body will take off. You think you're big now, ha, you're a tiny twink compared to what you'll eventually become.

[eveandtheturtles]

This whole "Love" thing

Fuck it, here's incredibly personal-Headcanon Mikey (including some mentions of other brothers) one shot. I hope I won't make people mad xD

Summary: Mikey has thoughts about himself and is struggling with his identity.

Rating: T for a mention.

Tagging: @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @pheradream15 @dilucsflame33 (lemme know if anyone wanna be tagged/untagged in the future! Also plz do tag me in your stuff too!)

Mikey loved love. He loved the concept of it. The magical fairy tale sold by the TV and comic books.

He loved his family, pizza, New York. He loved being a hero, his skateboard and the ancient teddy bear he got from his dad when he was a kid.

But no matter how hard Mikey tried romantic love evaded him.

There were women, guys and nonbinary pals that he tried to have this love with. Sex was great, don't get him wrong. He enjoyed it and it made people he was with happy but he always could tell like something wasn't quite there. It led him to believe there was something wrong with him.

He had seen his brothers finding love. April eventually getting with Casey. He was happy for them all. He himself though was... confused.

"What is eating you my son?"

Mikey looked up startled from his own thoughts by Splinter's voice. "Me? Psh, nothing, all good, yeah," he replied a bit too quickly waving his arm dismissevely. "What makes you think that?"

"For starters, Michealangelo, you decided to join me for a game of go," the rat smiled at him. "You also have been considering your move for about 15 minutes now and didn't notice when I got up to bring myself some tea." Splinter gestured to the fresh cup next to him.

Mikey glanced there and sighed then looked at the board. He moved one piece, rather unmotivated.

"Sensei, is it possible for someone to... not feel love?" He finally asked.

Splinter stroked his chin before answering slowly. "The simple answer this this would be no, but that is a very complex question and cannot be answered with just one word." He hummed to himself. "In Ancient Greece they have named different kinds of love a person can experience - Storge the love of kinship and familiarity, Philia the platonic love, Eros the lustful love and pure, divine Agape. There are other of course. In the phylisophy of Confucianism there's love expressed by duty and action, focused more on the relationship rather than feelings. In oposition to it stood Mozi with his idea of universal love, equal among everyone."

Normally, with this lenght of lecture Mikey might have gotten distracted by his need to learn more about what he was feeling mixed with anxiety kept him listening. All this information was making him a little dizzy though.

"What does it mean?" He asked.

"It means my son that there is more to love than romance the shows on TV are trying to teach you," his father explained patiently. "You can feel one love without experiencing another. It doesn't make you any less worthy of love or incapable of it."

"What? Who said it was about me? I was, you know asking for a-" he stopped seeing the look on Splinter's face.

"I believe the Internet that Donatello and the rest of you enjoy so much, could have more modern outlook on this topic." He moved a piece on the board, giving Mikey an amused look.

"Right." Mikey nodded. "I better go then. Thanks, sensei."

He stood up and bowed before going further to the lair. What his dad said made him feel better. A little. He was still feeling a bit alone in his head with all that. He could check online like dad suggested but he wasn't sure just how much did Donnie monitor their phones.

He bit his lips. Fuck it. He'll deal with it later. He opened his phone and typed: "Is it normal to not feel love?" His thumb hesistated over the search icon, suddenly feeling a bit scared.

Deep breaths, Mikey, he told himself, then hit it.

Hours later he knew more. There was a name to it. Aromantic, that's how it was called. Leo was poly-bi, Raph was bi, Donnie was demi and he... he was Aromantic. Or aro for short. So this was okay. It really was okay.

Somehow the knowledge that there was name for it. That there were people like him out there, the scope of experiences varying of course but... He wasn't alone. It was such a relief he almost wanted to cry.

He was going to be okay.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for preemptively attempting to imprison an extremely dangerous intergalactic threat?

I run a peacekeeping group whose duty is to maintain… well, PEACE across the universe. We apprehend and/or destroy anyone who we think may be a threat to others, especially if we anticipate they are going to abuse their powers.

This all started because of an incident with a detestable individual, who I’ll call GK. Both GK and I were part of a great, ancient, multi-planetary civilization many years ago. While I was no-one special, GK was considered a hero amongst our people— he saved us from many dangers… and everyone loved him. But one day, mysteriously, GK snapped. He began to go on a rampage, slaughtering innocents and destroying planets.

My home was one of such planets destroyed. And while I was able to escape with my life, my lover, was unfortunately not so lucky. He was slain during GK’s bout of madness.

Eventually, GK was stopped. The other members of our ancient civilization imprisoned him in crystal, ensuring he’d never hurt anyone again. But I wasn’t satisfied by that. I wanted to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again PERIOD, and so I stole the artifact they used to seal GK, running away with it and vowing to destroy anyone who may threaten the lives of others like he did.

This was the origin of my peacekeeping organization. We are the guardians of the universe… those put here to stop any who may endanger it.

Recently, we learned of a terrifying individual, who I’ll call K. K is young, but incredibly powerful. He may be even stronger than GK was. K has singlehandedly killed multiple godlike entities. I cannot express just how dangerous he is.

He hasn’t done anything yet, but I realized that didn’t matter. No-one that strong could be left free. I decided I’d imprison K, just like GK was imprisoned all those years ago, that way he was stopped before he could inevitably snap and hurt anyone innocent.

K’s friends intervened though, and they seemed quite angry with me. They told me that I had no right to try and hurt K— that he was a kind soul and had in fact PREVENTED interstellar disaster before. But that doesn’t matter to me. Once upon a time, people believed GK to be kind, too. He also averted apocalyptic scenarios. He still destroyed my home and murdered the love of my life. I won’t let that happen to anyone else.

It’s not about what kind of person K is. It’s about the power he wields. No mortal should be allowed to possess that much strength. In existing, that sort of person inevitably endangers others, whether they intend to or not. He must be sealed away, for the good of us all.

AITA?

(EDIT: One of my underlings wanted me to add that K also ‘pals around’ with extremely morally dubious individuals. He’s friends with the likes of a once-extremely-notorious-and-violent colonist, the right-hand-man of a terrifyingly tyrannical ruler, some sort of disgusting, exceptionally cruel clown thing, and more. This seems all the more evidence to us that K cannot be trusted. Even if he has no ill intent now, surely he’ll be influenced by these monsters. I’m more or less convinced. K MUST die. But I’ll keep my post up since all of his insolent friends are still insisting I may be an asshole and I would quite like to prove them wrong.)

[moonwritewastaken]

Tales of Christmas Day 16 - cc!Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

Genre - strangers to lovers, Christmas, pen pals kinda

Word count - 718

We made it! It’s the last day of the 2022 edition of Tales of Christmas. I’m sorry if this one isn’t detailed enough, I kinda ran out of time 😅Thank you for coming on this journey with me and hopefully you enjoyed the festive imagines! I’ll probably take a little break over the festive period but I’ll still be working on stuff, I just probably won’t release anything for a lil bit. 

- 🌙

At the start of the year, you made a New Year’s resolution to be in a relationship for Christmas. It was mid November and you had pretty much come to terms with the fact that it most likely wasn’t going to happen if it hadn’t already. However, your best friend was ready for a last ditch effort. 

“You could always pull a Dash and Lily” you sit up from your position on the couch to make sure she knew how stupid you found that suggestion. 

“Yes, b/f/n because writing a note in a book and it coincidentally being seen by someone my age actually works in real life” she rolls her eyes at your sarcasm before replying. 

“Then why not try it and prove me wrong? You’ve got nothing to lose if you think no one will see it” you knew she was saying that to get you to do it, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be right. 

“Fine, if it’ll get you to shut up” her excitement makes you smile slightly. Although you knew it wouldn’t work, you still had a slither of hope. 

The two of you get to work soon after and it doesn’t actually take as long as you thought it might. She ends up suggesting you use a manga book since it was your favourite genre, and had the largest likelihood of attracting someone suitable (in her words at least). You decide to task the reader with leaving a bookmark with their favourite manga or anime written on it, to make sure they had good taste. Immediately after you’re done, she makes you drop it off at the library and inform the librarian of your plan. 

After a week of refusing to check it even though you were curious, you finally give in. Pulling out the book, you see something sticking out the top and see that someone actually responded. Not only did they give you answers to their favourite manga, they also wrote down their favourite anime as well as a task for you. You were tasked with going to your area’s MrBeast Burger and leaving what your favourite video game was, you wondered why they chose that location but you did as they asked. 

This back and forth continued for the rest of the month as well as into December and you had caught feelings, much to your chagrin and your best friend’s excitement. You knew an ‘I told you so’ was due any day now and you were not happy about it. 

Adding to your piling up emotions, Karl (as you had found out your pen pal’s name was) and you had agreed to meet at a specific café at 2pm today. Although part of you was excited to finally meet him after about a month, the majority of you was terrified. What if you didn’t like him? What if he wasn’t what you thought? Or worse, what if you did like him as much you thought?

By the time you calmed yourself down enough to prepare, you had to leave. Reaching the café at 1:52pm sharp, you walk in and survey the people sitting by themselves. As you’re doing so, you realise that you hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he mightn’t show up. What would you do then? You’re brought out of your thoughts by a guy about your age with fluffy hair coming up to you. 

“Are you y/n?” there was no way this was Karl. He was way too cute to even be near you, let alone asking to meet you. 

“I am. You Karl?” he gives you the prettiest smile you’ve ever and will ever see and leads you to a table. 

It was clear about 20 minutes into your meeting that he was exactly who you thought, but somehow better. The two of you got along great and you realised you had nothing to worry about, except the ‘I told you so’ from your best friend that you hadn’t received yet. 

“Do you want to go on an actual date nest time?” Karl asks you this as your meeting reaches it’s natural end. You quickly agree and you swap numbers so you’re able to schedule and continue talking. 

You weren’t sure how, but you actually achieved your New Year’s resolution. 

[shewhowantsmouseears]

the promised mice drabble

Not great, but it's something??? Takes place in Musketeers.

Mickey was nervous, but doing his best to hide it. This was proving difficult, as he was the type to wear his heart on his sleeve – shoot, Donald and Goofy would argue he wore his heart all over with room for nothing else. He normally saw nothing wrong with this, but tonight was a special exception for a special occasion with a special person.

“We’re almost there!” Goofy chirped up front in the driver’s seat of the carriage. “Fellers all set and ready t’go?”

“I sure am,” Donald replied, but Mickey only responded with a small noise of agreement. The two of them were once again laying atop the carriage, and since the destination was in sight, they felt more comfortable to sit up. Donald glanced over at his friend and brother-in-arms, not entirely surprised not to hear an “oh boy” or a “hot dog” out of him. They both knew what the problem was, but Donald wasn’t really sure how to help.

Growing up, Mickey had always been the heart of the trio. He was more than happy to solve any problems Goofy or Donald had, lending a shoulder to cry on, and encouraging them to be their best. But now when it came time to return the favor, Donald found himself shamefully lacking. He opened and closed his beak a few times as he tried to think, and Mickey watched him do so silently. Finally, with a tired chuckle, Mickey once again offered his comfort. “Aw, it’s okay, Donald. I’ll be all right.”

Donald grunted, already annoyed. “I’m the one who’s supposed to tell you that! Sheesh! You don’t always have to try and be the big brother around here… try being selfish for once in your life!”

Mickey clicked his tongue to his cheek. “I don’t think I could, even if I tried. But, aw, I just have to… y’know, keep my chin up! As long as the princess is happy, nothin’ else matters.”

This wasn’t strictly true, and they both knew it, but neither one really wanted to address it. Keeping one lovestruck girl chipper was not the end goal, and there were plenty of things that mattered more. The carriage began to trot to a stop, and with one great big sigh, Mickey began to climb downwards. But before he made the leap off, Donald suddenly grabbed his hand, demanding his attention.

Donald tried, failed, sighed, then nodded. “… Good luck.” It was all he could think of, and he didn’t like that. It sounded so hollow and trite, and Mickey deserved better than that.

Still, Mickey smiled genuinely. “Thanks, pal.” Once on the ground, Mickey cleared his throat and opened the carriage door. Princess Minnie stepped out first, dainty as a flower in May and twice as pretty (though Mickey was biased in that regard) followed by her lady-in-waiting, who wasn’t trying to hide her own nerves.

Once the door closed, Minnie snatched Mickey’s arm, hugging it tight and close like a child’s favorite doll. “Oh, this is terribly exciting!” She squealed, enjoying Mickey’s blushing. “I’m all a flutter! Aren’t you?”

Daisy swiftly smacked her hand-fan on Minnie’s arm, making her yelp and pull back. “Your highness, I’m begging you to downplay the flirting.” She groaned, waving away the carriage so Goofy and Donald could park and rejoin the group later on. “You can’t just waltz in there arm-in-arm with him!”

Minnie sniffed haughtily. “Why not? This is going to be our formal introduction to the kingdom as a couple! He’s my consort!”

“It’s called etiquette! You have to do these things gradually!”

“Half the kingdom saw us kiss on stage at the opera, it’s not it’s a secret!”

Mickey kept his mouth shut, knowing he’d be no help in this situation. He didn’t totally understand all of high society’s rules, but he’d done his best to go along with them. It was just the sort of thing one accepted when they were dating royalty… which still sounded mighty strange in his head. Mickey Mouse, a commoner, an orphan, perhaps the second to last step on the food chain, was the consort of the Princess of France. Deep in his heart, he knew he’d be smitten with her if she was a baker or stable-hand or any number of roles in life, but “if” had no power here. She was the princess. He was the musketeer. And they were together.

Mickey then felt Minnie’s hand grasp his own, which told him the argument was over and the girls had reached some sort of compromise. Daisy still looked plenty upset (then again, she looked that way all the time, Mickey thought, which was why she probably go along with Donald so well!) but Minnie had on a cheerful smile. Seeing her so happy eased his worries a smidgen, and he began to walk forward with company in tow.

Formally this was just a fancy shmancy ball with all the nobles and rich folk gathering together to have a good time. But it would be the first time the princess would attend one with a consort, and Mickey knew he had to earn the approval of everyone there if he wanted to continue seeing her. Minnie lived in a world of fantasy and romance, believing that true love would solve all problems. Mickey admired her for that, but he also knew the harshness of reality. If the people didn’t accept him now, they were never going to accept him as a possible king someday.

As they approached the entrance, the guards looked down at the guests, and as they bowed respectfully, Mickey noticed the confused, disapproving look in their eyes. He swallowed thickly, and flashed them a flustered grin. Not exactly a great start to the evening, if that was any indication of tonight’s events.

Minnie, polite as always, curtsied to the guards silently before continuing the journey. They still had a long walk before entering the actual ballroom, and even then they would have to wait to be announced before they could walk in. Mickey was glad he was wearing gloves, since he knew his palms were sweaty. He could hear his heartbeat pounding his ears, and was amazed no one could hear it. They began to ascend a staircase when Minnie suddenly broke the silence.

“Daisy? Could you go find Sir Donald and Sir Goofy?”

Daisy stopped abruptly, and narrowed her eyes. “What? Why now?”

“They’ve never been here before,” Minnie calmly explained, “And they do have a little tendency to… run into trouble. Besides, you know this place like the back of your hand. I’m sure it won’t take long at all.”

The lady-in-waiting’s eyes bounced back and forth between Mickey and Minnie, and while it was clear she didn’t like this order, she couldn’t disobey. After a brief moment of hemming and hawing, she relented. “No funny business, you two.” She pointed her fan at them. “Hands to yourselves, and if they call you, don’t be a second late.” With a huff, she picked up her dress and walked off into a distance hallway.

Mickey knew Minnie well enough by now that this was merely to get the third wheel out of the way, and the only reason Minnie would get Daisy away was… well… “Guess I must look awfully scared.” He tried to joke.

It was no surprise that Minnie blatantly ignored Daisy’s instructions by going in for a good hug. “Oh, Mickey. They’re going to love you as much as I do.” A pause for thought. “Well, hopefully not as much. I don’t need competition.”

Mickey snorted, trying to cover it up by putting his hand under his nose. “Aw, Princess!” Where did he even begin addressing something so silly?

“And I’ve told you to call me Minnie when we’re alone.”

“Well, uh, we ain’t exactly alone… this whole place is full’a folks. Folks that… ain’t already keen on you and I. Mostly I. All I.” He could already guess she was going to say something flowery, like what they thought didn’t matter to her, their love would prove them wrong, so on and so forth.

So, he was a little startled when she didn’t object right away. She stayed up close to his chest, breathing softly, and he slowly put his arms around her tiny body. No, he wouldn’t use her name in public, but cuddling was different. He couldn’t explain why, it just was.

“It’s not going to be easy, is it?” Minnie murmured, resting her chin atop his shoulder.

It was shocking to hear something so mature come out of her mouth, and Mickey smacked his lips as he weighed the options of what to tell her. “… Not gunna lie. It’s gunna be real difficult. And it might stay difficult for a while. Even when we’re old and gray, they might not like it.”

“They never go over this part in the storybooks. They never explain the happily ever after. I don’t know what to tell them… to me, everything about you is so wonderful, it should be obvious. How do I put into words what’s so plain to see?”

“Aw shucks,” Mickey scratched his cheek, blushing renewed. He never what to say when she spoke all prettily like that.

Minnie pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, and Mickey worried for a moment she might kiss him. Not that he didn’t enjoy her kisses (boy howdy, did he ever enjoy them!) but they tended to completely blank his brain, and he needed his brain tonight! Mickey swallowed. “I dunno what to do about all that either,” he gently took her hand back into his own. “I’m not much of a planner or a thinker… but I do know that I ain’t running away. We’re gunna face a lot of challenges… might as well face ‘em head on. I’ve never run away from anythin’ before, and I ain’t about to start now.”

Minnie didn’t reply right away, and instead touched his cheek with her fingers, making his worry about a possible kiss increase tenfold. “I like that about you.”

He found the courage to quip. “I thought you liked everything about me.”

Her lips quirked into an amused smile, holding back a giggle. “Well, I do. But I especially like that part. Where you admit to being afraid. That you’re not certain either. You’re so very… real.”

He supposed that was a compliment, but wasn’t sure what it meant. As opposed to being fake? She didn’t leave him any time to puzzle it over as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. It didn’t make his mind melt, but it did a fantastic job of temporarily distracting him.

A loud voice was shouting up ahead. “Presenting her Royal Highness, Princess Minnie Mouse, and Sir Mickey Mouse.”

There was the cue. Minnie squeezed Mickey’s hand. He squeezed it back.

“You ready?” He asked.

“No.”

“Me neither.”

They smiled at one another, and walked hand-in-hand, one step at a time. Daisy wasn’t going to approve of Mickey’s tail wagging, he guessed.

[mr-entj]

Hello Mr. ENTJ,

I have read a few of your posts. And I must say, they are truly enlightening. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and passing on to others.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

I have been struggling with this particular function for three years now. Some days I like how my progress is going. Some days I overuse it to the point of going into unhealthy loops, and on others I am clueless as to how I KNOW I am misusing Te, just don’t know what is specifically going wrong.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

As the daughter of an ENTJ 8w7, one of my goals is to become as logical and effective as half of what my dad is and has accomplished.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better? Me (ENFP 2w3) being too ‘soft/sensitive’ for the taste of my dad doesn’t help much. We can barely ever figure out what is going on inside each other’s heads. It’s as if it’s two apart worlds, and I’d risk to say I feel I have more in-common with my INTJ brother than with my ENTJ dad (come on, Te-Ni and Ni-Te shouldn’t be too different. Just thinking of my INFP pals, they’re lovely beings I feel I share a lot in-common with them. Flawed logic? Perhaps.)

If you can answer these, it’d be helpful. Coming from a successful, seemingly healthy ENTJ.

Thanks for supporting the blog.

Would you have any advice on how ENFPs could develop/progress their tertiary Te? Any practical advice (all I see on the internet is theory. No irl use).

To develop/progress Te, see this post.

Alongside this question, how have your experience been with ENFPs and the function Te (dynamics, healthy and unhealthy individuals)? How did you perceive them? Were their actions/decisions befitting of tertiary Te?

In the short bursts, strong and focused for things they're personally interested in. Very energetic, infectious, and productive.

In the long term, inconsistent and flaky with significant drop off after the fun phases are over (brainstorming, ideation) and it's time to actually do the difficult and not fun work (execution). The exact point this happens is a few days/hours after the execution phase starts and the excitement fades. This is when the wheels come off the wagon and things go to hell.

Another last question: do you know of any tips of how ENFPs and ENTJs can get along better?

For starters, I wouldn't make it a goal to change who you naturally are and how you operate simply because someone disagrees with it. Parent or not. Unless you're actively harming yourself, it's not a personality disorder or a problem to solve, it's just a personality quirk and a quality to accept.

Off the top of my head:

Set and enforce boundaries. ENTJs will step over lines they don't know exist because they assume that other types communicate as bluntly as they do. Spoiler alert: they don't. Make sure your dad knows they exist or else he'll trample over them unintentionally.

Identify what they're excellent at and learn from them. Pretty much every TJ I know is an expert in a particular field and can't shut up about it when asked. What's your dad's area of expertise? Learn more about it, ask him about it, and try it. This is a great starting place to bond.

Share only the problems you want solutions to. And if you don't want solutions, tell them up front. Most TJs (ENTJ, INTJ, ESTJ, ISTJ) will interpret sharing issues as asking for our input because we're natural problem solvers. Be clear that you're only looking to vent.

Acknowledge the facts, even if you don't agree with them. ENFPs are dreamers who go for moonshots (ambitious but unlikely goals). There's nothing wrong with dreaming big, but being too impractical and neglectful of reality can make you look delusional. This will annoy all TJs, not just the xNTJs. You can acknowledge the facts without killing your dreams. Work with your dad to brainstorm solutions to those problems, not to deny they exist. It's a good intellectual exercise and solid bonding opportunity.

Be considerate of their time. If you're not committed to acting on a plan, don't bother them for advice, and more advice, and more advice. Talking and talking and talking without any action is exhausting at best, and infuriating at worst. This is one of my main gripes with all perceivers especially when it comes to career coaching. They'll get excited about a plan, ask for my input, I'll invest time and energy into building it, and then they'll abandon it. In the long run, it'll damage your relationship with an ENTJ because you'll appear flaky and they'll respect you less because of it. A person's word is their bond, make sure your words hold a lot of weight.

[savage-rhi]

Idk if you write for these characters but Regis and clarus go on a road trip with

getting back from the trip, and some friends are there to welcome them back, but something seems..different and one mf cant help but say “what happened did you guys fuck or something” (…they did)

I never wrote for Regis or Clarus before, but I am now! Hope you like it! 💙

Weskham couldn't help but side eye Regis as they both ventured down one of the main palace halls. Since the prince arrived home from his trip with Clarus, there had been something different about him. Regis looked more exhausted than when he first left. As if another issue at hand was gripping his mind. This troubled Weskham a great deal. The whole point of the trip--that both he and Clarus arranged--was to ensure Regis had time to rest. Gods above knew Regis needed it before he and his team would venture to Accordo to build up alliances.

The weight of the world was literally upon the crown that Regis would wear. Weskham knew that better than anyone. Being the hand of the king, it was his duty and honor to help the monarch keep the peace and also take care of himself. To see Regis look so tired after having a peaceful vacation, felt like a failure on Weskham's part. He felt foolish for not pulling Clarus to the side to ask what had happened.

Weskham stared at the coronation ring that was snug against Regis's right index finger, knowing one day the Ring of the Lucii would take its place. Furrowing his brows, Weskham could feel the competent adviser he knew himself to be pave way to the best friend: wanting to know what was ailing his pal besides the unfair sacrifices his bloodline carried.

"A pardon, highness." Weskham cleared his throat.

"Yes?" Regis stopped in his tracks and turned his attention in full to Weskham. His eyes glanced up and down his form, noting he looked concerned.

"You only ever look like you've seen a ghost when something terrible is on the horizon, my friend."

Weskham couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head. "Fortunately, you are wrong there. However, I have to say that as your friend you have me worried. You haven't looked well since you left the Regalia."

"Oh," Regis made a face. He turned his gaze elsewhere down the hall, as if making sure no one else was within the vicinity. "I can assure you there is nothing amiss on my part. However, the trip with Clarus was...an experience to say the least. Let's resume our walk."

Weskham gave a bow with his head and pressed on. While staying at Regis's right side, he couldn't help but grin.

Regis raised a brow. "What's so amusing?"

"Oh nothing but an immature thought." Weskham chuckled.

"Enlighten me." Regis smiled awkwardly, shaking his head.

"If I didn't know better," Weskham began, trying to keep his composure in check. "I'd say you and Clarus finally gave into that tension that's been with us since youth."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Don't be daft, Regis." Weskham huffed with amusement. "I mean what exactly happened between you and Clarus that was an experience? Did you two fuck or something?"

Regis's eyes bulged from his skull at the accusation. His body and posture tensed and an awkward silence fell between both his long time friend and himself. He blinked a few times after Weskham did a double take.

"Reg?"

"I'm good," Regis coughed. "I'm good."

The faint blush to Regis's pale skin and his response was enough to tell Weskham everything. He parted his mouth to say something, but was quickly interrupted.

"May we both respectfully pretend this conversation didn't transpire."

Weskham could feel his own face growing warm now. What began as a jest to an inside joke between himself, Regis, and Clarus was now heading into territory Weskham himself wasn't sure he was ready for. Both as a friend of the prince and his future adviser.

"I agree," Weskham finally responded, not before smirking. "Was he good at least?"

"That meeting with the Niflheim councilman, I need you to get it rescheduled ASAP." Regis all but bulldozed through the question Weskham asked. He glared at hearing the suppressed chuckles escaped Weskham's mouth.

"I'll ensure it happens," Weskham nodded. "By the way, Reg, nice dodge."

"Oh shut up."

If you like my work and feel generous, feel free to donate to my ko-fi account or my cash app account!

Cash App: $JayRex1463

[tobiasdrake]

Round two, Emerald Golem. He who laughs last, laughs hardest! Because he did not get the joke and is now faking it.

...

Be intimidated by me.

Ha! You may have bested me once, but it's 2-on-1 now, rock-cheese. My bestie's got my back and together, we are going to--

...uh...

Bestie? Where, uh... where you goin'?

...

Oh, goddess.

It's okay, because I know your weakness now, brickloaf! It's... uh... patience and moderation, for a carefully measured and balanced offense that avoids getting reckless or greedy.

...

I know! It's weird! They taught me nothing like that in the order. Or maybe they did; I wasn't paying attention. But. I guess. Whatever works?

HA! Not so tough now, are you!? What good is overwhelming defense in the face of patience and discipline!?

Ah-ah! Where do you think you're going? This fight isn't over until I say it is, you lime-flavored photon phuckball.

Shurikens, asshole. I'm going to make you into a pincushion to hold all my cool shit.

Oh shit. You're sapient?

...

I am so sorry for calling you a lime-flavored photon phuckball. I did not know. At the time. That you had feelings.

...

...

...

...

Okay. So. In my haste for triumph and glory, I. Uh. May. Have. Misconstrued your stomping as... something that it was not.

I am a big enough man to admit when a misunderstanding has taken place and a tragic mistake has been committed. You're right. It's pretty clear where the fault for this lies.

The Shopkeeper. It's the Shopkeeper's fault. He queued me up by boasting about what a cool fight this would be. The blame 100% lies with him.

This might be an awkward time to bring this up but would you like to be my friend? I'm building a new social group since my last social group burned to death. You could come with me to hang out with the Necromancer. You dig up the graves, he raises the bodies, I bring the ice cold and delicious taste of Coca-Cola, in stores wherever products are sold. Everybody has a good time.

Just. Think about it, okay? I know we got off on the wrong foot but I think we could be great pals if we gave it a go.

That... mole spirit? Or whatever... I dunno. That person of some kind seemed nice. I'm glad they weren't upset about the whole golem misunderstanding. ^_^ I'm sure they'll be eager to be best friends. I'll add them to my list.

In any case, we have a mission to complete and more great deeds to do! It's good to be a hero.

[mayasaura]

Consider: Megamind AU with Heir!Gideon

When they were children (so old enough to remember each other) Glaurica cracked and blabbed about the Crêche Flu to her kin on the 8th. Jod pardoned most of the Ninth, barring the Father, Mother and Great-Aunts, but resettles its inhabitants. Meanwhile, in this process Gideon was discovered - in fact, let's say she stowed along to Harrow's audience with the emperor to argue for shutting the Ninth down completely - and became Kiriona Gaia.

Harrow was raised by an even more embittered Crux (who will serve as our Minion). They are outcasts on their new planet and target the majority of their ire at Kiriona, the Empire's darling.

No thoughts on who everyone else would be. Tbh this all sprung from rewatching Megamind with my tlt brainrot in full swing and going hm...legitimately powerful yet pathetic little goth with flair for the dramatic who never really wanted to destroy their rival...curious

Oh my god. No, this is greatest part: the versatility of this AU. They're both dramatic little goth shits who never really wanted to destroy their rival. No one ever paid enough attention to either of them for them to learn the difference between positive and negative kinds of attention. They both saw themselves as 'evil' or 'outcast' and decided to embrace it with both hands.

Like, we have to change almost nothing for Gideon to be Megamind. She doesn't look Ninth, she doesn't act Ninth, and she makes Not Being Ninth and having dramatic flashy clashes with the beloved superhero of the Ninth pretty much a core tenant of her personality. If you could get any closer to "Child raised in a prison cell for no fucking reason" than Gideon Nav, I'd love to see it. Then she gets away from the Ninth and finds out that most of what she was going for she doesn't actually want, because it was all about the chase. It was all about Harrow. Without Harrow to prove wrong, none of her schemes or goals or achievements actually fucking matter.

But I love this Glaurica Blabs AU. Gideon is discovered at the age of about ten, and John disbands the Ninth House for baby killing crimes. I think he keeps the Reverend Daughter fairly close, because he wants to see what becomes of this powerful creation powered by the souls of dead babies. He's fascinated. But everyone kind of knows that the Ninth massacred their own children now, so Harrow is a persona non grata. She still has her loyal retainer, who hates everyone but her, but aside from that she's pretty much isolated. Her sole purpose in life becomes making sure being a godling doesn't go to the newly re-named Kiriona's head.

This is where it gets really Megamind, imo. Because like Metroman, Kiriona really has nothing against Harrow anymore except that Harrow keeps breaking her stuff and attacking her with skeletons. Her problems are mostly about being a Prince now and how everyone has Expectations of her when she's really just a lonely awkward girl with a sword. Fighting Harrow is a welcome normal distraction from all the new problems in her life now that she's, like, important.

Anyway, Dulcie is Roxy, with a keen investment in the drama and a zeal for digging in and getting to the truth of matters. There is no Hal because that part of the plot literally does not work in this scenario, but also Ianthe is Hal. Dulcie and Gideon aren't involved, but Harrow thinks they are and she's jealous. Ianthe is into Harrow, not Dulcie. Dulcie is into no one, but if she were into anyone she has some complete nerds in a turtleneck and glasses to go on picnics with. Yes, Cam and Pal are Bernard But Real.

So the plot is, Gideon cracks under the pressure and runs away, leaving Harrow under the impression she successfully drove her off, and the instant regret sets in. Obviously, because this rivalry is gay and obsessive in addition to being a substitute for the love neither of them had in their childhoods, Harrow can't just grow a new Prince to butt heads with. This doesn't stop Ianthe from briefly trying to fill the void. Harrow goes to shake down Dulcie to find out where Gideon went, and ends up on a rollicking adventure to retrieve a wayward Prince who does not want to be a Prince anymore, thank you.

[blogofloathing]

Part 3 of 4, Part 4 Comes Out Later Next Week!!

Against all wishes, to be doing.. anything else.. he turned the handle, and pushed, it was heavier than it had looked.

Though this weight could be mainly attributed to the massive wave of sound pressing back against his attempt.

But nonetheless, open the rickety old door he did

And what he saw made absolutely no sense, it was so unexpected as to be nearly comedic.

There was his pal Ernst, sitting on the floor, playing his cello as hard and as loud as possible.

Gygan could see his muscles visibly straining with the great effort of his wild performance.

Gygan chuckled to himself, feeling a weight fall off of his shoulders, as if previously carrying the entire world on them.

He was almost surprised to not hear it make an audible *THUNK*.

It was fine, everything was fine. This welcome relief did little to dull the sound however, as Ernst didn't seem to notice him.

He opened his mouth, but was momentarily taken aback at nothing coming out

before realizing that, he was speaking. The tune was so loud he couldn't hear his own damn voice coming from his own mouth.

Fuckin hell what was Ernst even tryin to do? Well regardless Gygan needed to get him to stop with that godawful sound. He shouted, still no sound.

He screamed, he screamed so hard surely he would go deaf from his own voice alone, nothin.

Ugh Jesus fucking Christ okay clearly he won't be able to hear me, Gygan resolved.

Before walking right over and giving Ernst a good *THWAP* on the head. Hard enough to make him drop his cello with a dramatic clatter.

The sudden silence was almost as deafening as the sound, like a sonic boom the absence of that horrendous melody slammed into Gygan's ears.

He both felt and heard his ears pop sickeningly, Gygan was just about ready to pass out.

But this was about Ernst and he was gonna figure out just what the fuck is going on, now.

Waving his hand infront of his buddy's face back and forth, "yo! Ernst! Fuck's goin on with you??"

Gygan said exasperated, this whole situation was so bizarre he wouldn't be surprised to just wake up.

It took his friend a solid thirty seconds to stop miming the cello in his empty hands. Staring dead ahead as if to look anywhere else was impossible.

When Ernst finally snapped out of it, he looked at Gygan, then looked at the cello laying a few feet away from them on the floor. Eyes growing wide.

"Seriously man what's up with you? Those letters? That.." Gygan winced, almost whispering "sound.."

"You can't just be all cryptic and shi-" but finish his sentence he could not, overtaken by "Gygan you have to get out now, I'm serious Gygan, please!"

Gygan stood perplexed, so he sends him a bunch of concerning letters and now he's getting kicked out?? What kinda stunt was Ernst trying to pull??

Laughing a little as he replies "dude what? I don't get you man-" once again stamped out with a much more frantic "you have to go now!" And he wasn't laughing, something in his gut felt wrong.

"Once I stop playing, the rift-" he began, but a rumbling like the loudest drum roll sang within both of their skeletons, rattling them to the core.

"You, have, to, go!" Ernst repeated, punctuating each word with another push of Gygan towards the stairs, he resisted, "dude, buddy Ernst calm down for a sec" he didn't understand what was going on

But heed him he did not, "just go!" Ernst screamed in his face, practically throwing him down the stairs, and slamming the attic door shut after him.

Tough crowd huh? Though, as Gygan started back up the steps, to hopefully knock some sense into his friend, a nauseating feeling washes over him.

The air shifted in every part of the house, a subtle change that set Gygan's hairs on their ends.

And a stomach churning creaking, as if the whole house was flexing and bending. Bending inwards.

Fuck fuck what the fuck?? Gygan tried clumsily to dash up the stairs, stumbling as the entire house seemed to rock side to side. Shaking violently.

Eyes darting around desperately for salvation, he watched as Ernst's living room tore itself apart.

Books and papers flying around the room. As if a tornado squatted in his home while he was away.

His living room seemed to melt and solidify back and forth in a chaotic, jagged lava procession.

Bottles of apple juice and paintings of cellos falling and shattering on the floor, then reforming and shattering again, adding to the cacophony.

The wallpaper pattern seemed to be staring only at him, pointedly and expectantly, eyes that weren't there shot daggers into Gygan as he stared on.

And despite all wishes to be doing anything else, he trudged up the staircase, feet made of lead..

Part 3 END, Too Big For 3 So Now It's 4 Parts!!

[kuroegerzie]

CHAPTER FIVE: Old Pals

Let them doubt. Let them talk down. Let them laugh. Let them believe you'll never be good enough or strong enough to win. Then let them watch you prove them wrong.

Footstep after footstep echoed through the final halls of the Ruins, filling the otherwise silent void with at least some form of noise as I journeyed to the end. Despite the boredom of the nearly endless venture my mind was completely flooded with many thoughts shouting over each other, buzzing with anticipation and uncertainty. As much as the potential of the future held, I still didn't feel too sure that I had made the right choice. I suppose my decision will haunt me for a while, but it's far too late to go back now.

As much as I appreciated Toriel trusting me enough to let me leave, it had come at the cost of something too great to lose. Her absence already left a massive hole in my heart, and part of me desperately wanted to run back to her and forget everything ever happened. Nonetheless, all I can do is continue this adventure for her.

One thought that continued to swirl around in my head was the mention of Toriel's 'old friend'. Who could this monster be, and why did Toriel think they could help me? Were they someone from her past? Someone with knowledge or power that could aid me? She did say that he would provide a safe haven for me, but was it worth going to this mystery person if I was only going to inconvenience them anyway? Despite my uncertainties, a glimmer of hope remained; maybe this friend held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the Underground, to finding out what it's all about.

The hall eventually opened up, revealing another open room with a much larger door at the end. This room bore an eerie resemblance to the first room I encountered when I fell; nearly pitch black, with nothing else but a patch of grass in the centre. Despite not looking particularly interesting at all, the uncomfortable memories of that fateful encounter successfully unnerved me. I swear, if that flower popped up now of all times...

Not like I could see much of anything right now anyways.

With a small huff, I raised my hand and focused my concentration on it once more, feeling that intense warmth surging through my veins once again. Another ball of fire flared to life in my palm, immediately casting its warm glow across the room, and the flickering light revealed nothing but an all too familiar face with a twisted sneer etched across it. Of course, that flower had to be here too. "Oh boy, here we go again."

"Clever. Verrrryyy clever." Flowey's sarcastic tone immediately sent chills down my spine, though I was prepared for whatever trickery he had planned. I wasn't gonna let him try and deceit me this time; I'm stronger now, and far more understanding of his cruel, twisted nature. "You think you're reeeally smart, don't ya?"

"What do you want now?" I snapped, wasting no hesitation in asking Flowey what his deal was this time. My patience was already worn thin with this bloody flower, I swear. "I don't have any time for whatever idiocy you have in store for me now. I'm not stupid."

"Aww, come on pal! I don't have any tricks for you this time!" Flowey confessed, though the look in his beady eyes suggested otherwise. "There was something I forgot to tell you before you messed up my plans to take your soul."

His sneer suddenly morphed into a toothy grin full of malice, his teeth bared in a display so grotesque my blood ran cold. Forget the facade he had thrown together in our first encounter, this was a whole other level of insane. "In this world, it's kill or be killed. You of all people should have figured that one out by now!"

"Now listen here, you psychopathic weed-"

"After all, didn't you say you're the spawn of Satan himself?" If I thought my blood had run cold before, now it was at freezing point as I tensed up, his words having cut through me like a dagger. How does he know that? Was he spying on us during that fight? No, he couldn't have; the flames would have roasted him alive if he tried. But then where did he get that information from?

The malicious grin on Flowey's face seemed to gain that extra level of edge as he noticed my reaction to his words. "Your whole thing is supposed to be about torture and suffering! You should've had a field day killing every monster down here! But instead you let that old goat teach you all about sparing and mercy, and now you think you're all high and mighty because you couldn't do your one job as a devil!"

Oh man, this flower is dead.

Hearing Flowey speak so badly about not only me, but Toriel as well, immediately triggered that familiar burning feeling once again as the fireball in my hand intensified in power and luminosity. I could easily just lob the fireball straight at this weed and watch him burn up in flames, but that would only prove his blatantly racist comments to be true. I think he knew that too, since he let out a low chuckle as his grin shrank down in size. "Sure, you didn't kill anybody this time. But what will you do if you meet a relentless killer? Will you kill them out of frustration? Surely your merciful streak won't last long. Your true tendencies will come through eventually."

"That won't happen!" I couldn't help but shout at him, my voice trembling from the anger boiling within me. I could only reign it in for so long before this flower became kindling, but for now I was doing well to restrain myself. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Of course I do! Did you forget already? There's a whole prophecy about you."

There's that prophecy mentioned yet again. What is it even about? I was getting pretty damn tired of hearing that word without any explanation as to what it actually entails. Being kept in the dark about everything like this frustrated me to no end; I just wanted to know what the role I played in this new world was! "Stop with this prophecy nonsense! What's so damn special about it that I haven't heard about it?!"

"Oh please, you really don't know how it all goes, do you?" Flowey's taunts only fueled my frustration further, my fire burning brighter still. "Well, you won't hear it from me. After all, having a hybrid freak fall into this place? It's so much more interesting!"

These words set me off more than anything he had ever said to me previously, and before I could even register what I was doing I stormed over to the maniac of a plant and grabbed his stem before he could even think about evading me, pulling him out of the ground and uprooting him with all my strength. Fury and disgust churned in the pit of my stomach as I glared daggers at him. This jerk was vile and manipulative to no end, reveling in the pain and suffering of others with a twisted energy that could even rival Satan's. But I wouldn't let him win. "Do not. Call me. A freak."

Despite my attempts at intimidation, Flowey seemed entirely unfazed. In fact, a smirk had crossed over his face in response. "That's what you are, genius." He retorted, his words spat out like venom. "Why do you think your soul is so messed up?"

Now that was an excellent question. I quickly thought back to our first encounter, when Flowey had revealed my soul to me for the first time. Why did it look like that? Surely regular souls only had one colour, and not three separate ones spliced together like a patchwork doll, right? The uncertainty gnawed at my conscience as I began to think, was there truly something wrong with me after all? Was I destined to be an outcast? Was that it?

No. It couldn't be as plain as that. Even then, I wouldn't let the status of my soul or my race define me; I would find my own place in the Underground regardless of what some stupid prophecy foretold. I'd find my own way.

"Look at you." Flowey piped up once again, snapping me out of my thoughts for a moment as his trademark sneer returned. Man, I wanted to wipe that stupid expression off his face so bad. "You're not human, but you're not a full monster either. Face it, you don't belong anywhere."

"That's a lie, and I'm going to prove it to you!" In a final act of rebellion, I threw my arm back and launched Flowey as far as I could to the other side of the room, not giving him any chance to recover as I sprinted to the door at the end and burst through the other side. My vision was met with a blinding white light at first, with a momentary flash of cyan as I turned back and slammed the door so hard that the resounding thud echoed into the void.

As good as it felt standing up to Flowey like that, it didn't take long at all before my anger receded, replaced by a crushing exhaustion as I slumped against the door and slid onto the cold, snowy ground. The freezing sleet which poured from the sky coated me in an icy blanket, diminishing any fire I had left in my system. Fuck, how I hated the cold; not only does it weaken my ability to create fire, but it just plain sucks! I've never met a single person who liked being cold over being nice and warm.

All the more reason to keep going. No need to be in this weather.

I slowly rose to my feet as I pushed through my exhaustion, brushing the snow off of my legs and feeling the cold seep through my clothes. The forest surrounding me seemed to stretch endlessly, with towering trees casting long shadows over the paved path ahead. It was pretty clear that this was the only way to go, so with a heavy sigh I set off along the path, the snow crunching beneath my boots with every step I took.

Man, this day sure has been eventful. I had found a new region to explore, made a new friend in the process, fought Toriel and left the Ruins, not to even mention the shit with Flowey just before. Surely this day had to end sometime soon, right? Then again, there wasn't any easy way to tell the time when there's no proper sun or moon in the Underground, so who knows; it could be sunrise, sunset, heck, even midnight, and I wouldn't be none the wiser.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I barely took notice of the twig positioned in the centre of the path, merely stepping over it with ease. It entered my mind as soon as it left my vision however; why was it positioned so carefully in the middle of the path? None of the trees were close enough for the twig to fall that far, even with a gust of wind to aid it. If it was a trap, it was certainly a very lousy one. Who knew a twig could be so distracting?

SNAP.

The silence shattered in that moment as I whirled around so fast my hair whipped in front of my face, and I sputtered as parts of my orange locks landed directly in my mouth. Once I recovered from the shock of the momentary blindness, brushing my hair back into position, my eyes widened as I realised the twig I had previously stepped over had been perfectly split in two.

Twigs don't break like that naturally.

Without a single moment of hesitation I broke into a sprint, desperately trying to get as much distance as I could between me and whatever threat laid behind me, though unfortunately the combination of the snow trapping my feet with every step and the sleet crashing against my side made it difficult to get much traction at all.

What the fuck is going on?! Did Flowey really recover that quickly?!

Any hopes of escape were immediately erased as soon as the path ended abruptly, a thick wooden barrier standing in the way of freedom. Sure, it wasn't tall, but it was certainly tall enough to rule out simply hurdling over it, so all I could do was make a desperate attempt to pass through the gaps of the bars. Despite any attempt to squeeze through, I was only met with failure as I couldn't close my wings nearly enough to allow me through. What am I supposed to do now?! I have no idea what this mystery being is capable of! It feels so unnatural, being hunted like prey when I've only ever been a predator until recently.

"S t o p  s t r u g g l i n g ."

My blood quickly turned to ice as a voice, commanding yet oddly calm, pierced through the air like a dagger. The sound of snow crunching under their feet drew closer and closer, and I immediately knew I was done for. Well, too late to flee now. Whatever this thing was, I had to defend myself against it. So much for thinking nobody would ever attack me, right?

"D o n ' t  y o u  k n o w  h o w  t o  g r e e t  a  n e w  p a l ?" Wait, what? New pal? "T u r n  a r o u n d  a n d  s h a k e  m y  h a n d ."

Reluctantly, I slowly turned to the speaker with my heart pounding in my ears, and was met with a figure only slightly shorter than me. Their face was obscured by the hood reaching over their head, and their attire was rather odd; they simply wore a blue hoodie, black shorts with a white stripe along each leg, and faded pink slippers paired with some slightly baggy white socks. My attention turned quickly to the hand they held out for me to shake; there was no flesh on their hand, only hard bone. Clearly I was face-to-face with a skeleton. I only hesitated for a moment before eventually reaching out, and I gripped their hand.

thrRRRRRrrrrppp

It hadn't even been a second after I had clasped the figure's hand when that loud farting noise erupted from their hand, and for a moment I was far too stunned to react. Now this is bizarre. Is this supposed to be a prank of some sort? Or just a harmless joke? As my initial shock wore off I couldn't help but let out a snicker; despite the strangeness of it all, there's something oddly amusing about such an unexpected joke. "O-Okay, that's kinda funny."

A low chuckle emitted from the figure in front of me as they lifted their hood, revealing a skeleton skull as i had correctly assumed. A wide, toothy grin seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, and each of his eye-sockets had a small, white pinprick in them. Maybe they acted as his eyes? "heheh. the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. it's always funny."

"I have to admit, you did get me there." I admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. While I don't fully understand this skeleton's intentions yet, he seemed pretty chill. "So you're not here to kill me, right?"

"hey, take it easy, kiddo. i already know what to do with you." Despite the initial reassurance, I couldn't quite shake off that nervous feeling as I took a step back out of hesitation. "wow, so tense. s'nothin' bad. just gotta keep an eye-socket on ya." As if to ease my nerves, the skeleton held out his other hand for me to shake, giving me a friendly yet somewhat cheeky wink.

"i'm sans. sans the skeleton."