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chongoblog · 3 months

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My First Pokemon Playthrough

So I've noticed in my time of talking about Pokemon, I've told a lot of various anecdotes that are all a part of my very first time playing Pokemon. I was feeling nostalgic, so I figured I would share what I remember about this playthrough for everyone to enjoy. There may be a tangent or two in there and people who have followed me a while may have heard these before, but hey.

For context, I believe I was about 8 years old at the time, and after collecting some Pokemon cards, watching a kid play Crystal at summer camp, watching some of the anime, and generally being a pretty big fan (I even have Pokemon Yahtzee burned into my memory for some reason...), I finally got myself a Game Boy Advance with Super Mario Advance 2: Super Mario World, some Frogger game (after looking it up, it was Temple of the Frog), Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2, and, of course, Pokemon Sapphire.

I remember that my starter was Torchic. I don't remember why I chose that one, although I remember really liking the color red at the time (which I still do), so that was probably why.

I don't remember too much about my team or the general progress I made in most of the game, but I do remember Slateport City. For those who do not recall, in Slateport City in order to advance you need to get into the museum, which is blocked off by Team Aqua Grunts until you talk to someone in the shipyard. There are also Team Aqua grunts blocking the route ahead

Now, my 8 year old brain for some reason concluded that the only way to get past the Team Aqua Grunts was to intimidate them with a high enough level Pokemon or something like that. So one night, while I was supposed to be asleep on a family beach vacation, I beat down more poor level 13 Pokemon than I could count. I learned later what I was actually SUPPOSED to do, which led to me finally fighting the Team Aqua Grunts.....with a level 42 Blaziken.

And since the Name Rater was in Slateport City and my starter had evolved, I figured it was only appropriate to give him the new moniker "MAGMA MAN"

The rest of the playthrough went about as normally as tearing through the game with mostly Blaziken normally would go. There were a couple exceptions though. First off, at the Weather Institute, after I saved the day from Team Aqua, they were kind enough to gift me a Castform, but my party was full, so I couldn't get it. My 8 year old self did not read this. (Remember this, it will come back later). But I managed to make my way through the game, catching Kyogre with my Master Ball and giving it the nickname "LEGENDARY"

Then we come to the Elite Four where I hit a brick wall. I don't remember my team at the time exactly, but I do remember it was MAGMA MAN which had reached about level 80 or so, LEGENDARY which was about level 48, a level 36 Pelipper, two level ~35 Tentacruels, and some other sixth Pokemon I don't recall. And for some reason, I just couldn't beat the Elite Four with this team for some weird reason. The best I could ever get to was Drake. I felt I was utterly defeated.

That's when we bring a new character into the story. A member of my friend group at the time who we'll call "John" to protect the innocent. Now John had a very "uncle who works at nintendo" type energy to him. The group used to play Gauntlet: Dark Legacy together all the time, and when I got the GBA port of it, he convinced me to trade my recently obtained copy of the Pokemon Trading Card Game Boy game for a Gameboy-Gamecube cables, only for me to learn too late that it didn't work like that, and from there, there were no backsies (but then I got ahold of a copy of Pac-Man VS and Four Swords Adventure then I learned to emulate, so who's laughing now).

Anyway, John saw that I was struggling and he decided that he wanted to help me out. You see, he had come across an incredibly powerful and rare Pokemon that couldn't be found in the wild. He had gotten it exclusive, and I had never seen it before. It was called a "Castform". Now John had Ruby version, so he decided that as much as it ached him to part with it, he figured it would be a reasonable trade to trade this powerful Castform for the slightly less powerful LEGENDARY. I agreed.

And then he moved to Ohio.

To this day, Castform is my least favorite Pokemon because of this betrayal. I was so distraught at 8 years old that I completely restarted my game of Pokemon Sapphire. I don't remember much about that second playthrough, but there's a reason why.

This rival battle on Route 110 is somewhat infamous for being quite the sudden difficulty spike. And since I knew how to get past Team Aqua now, I didn't have an over-leveled starter to stomp my rival with ease. After losing to her about five or so times, I got frustrated and figured that whatever team I had wasn't cutting it. So I restarted again.

In my third playthrough, I made it all the way to the rival battle on Route 110. Then she stomped me repeatedly. So I restarted again.

This cycle would go on for, like, 15 resets. I didn't count, but it felt like there was hundreds. As I would keep on resetting and playing through the early-game of Pokemon Sapphire (which I had practically memorized at this point), I would start to take things a lot less seriously, sometimes picking the girl character, making my name random gibberish, etc.

Eventually, on one of these playthroughs where I started with Treecko, I actually managed to beat the Route 110 Rival Battle! And on my first try too! And thus began the epic journey of a girl named DE.

Now, I'd figured at this point that maybe only leveling up one Pokemon wasn't the best approach, so I was trying to balance my teams a bit better (I guess my rival taught me something). I was making my way through the game, and one day I'm checking out my best friend's Pokemon in Ruby, and who do I see in his box, but a Kyogre. I take a look at his name, and I can't believe it. It was LEGENDARY. John had traded it to my friend before he moved.

My friend didn't know that it was originally mine, so he offered to trade it back, which I accepted. LEGENDARY was a disobedient little bastard since I didn't have enough badges, but he got the job done. I don't remember the team I ended up using to finally beat the Elite Four, but it included my Sceptile starter, a Sableye that somehow knew only Fighting-type moves, and two Kyogres, LEGENDARY and LEGENDARY2.

And that's my first playthrough of Pokemon Sapphire. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.

#pokemon #now that im done typing this all out a minor addendum #the sableye was from my emerald playthrough #because his moveset was Brick Break Focus Punch Detect and Dynamicpunch #And Dynamicpunch was only teachable through a tutor in emerald #anyway yay story time

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crowbird · 2 months

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continuation of this post

Jason was not there for books. He was there for answers and you seemed suspiciously willing to answer. Or maybe that was the paranoia. You hadn't invited him in with eager arms but rather stepped aside and offered to chat over tea.

The bookshop is remarkably ordinary and yet mildly unnerving. Perhaps that's just Jason though, he finds himself, against all reason and judgement sitting across from you. The back of the shop is piled high with boxes and old furniture, a space in the centre cleared for a tea table and accompanying chairs. He stared at the tea in front of him mildly flabbergasted.

"Do you need sugar?"

"No." He croaked.

You nodded sagely, "honey then," and a jar of the stuff was placed on the table before him. He was fairly certain he had never seen honey of that nature before, even if he couldn't explain why. There was no brand label on the mason jar and the honey was rich and golden and yet all the same there was something just a little wrong about it.

Yet he found himself adding it to the tea, a choice that turned out to be a good one.

"What are you doing here?" He finally managed to say, "and how come I couldn't enter before?" The words tumbled out in an embarrassing manner.

"Drinking tea and I have wards up." You shrugged gesturing to your scars, "some use sigils to enhance and in turn others use sigils to guard. I removed them so you could enter."

"Oh, uh, right." Jason took another sip of tea, the honey soothed the frog caught in his throat and he found his voice easier this time. "I didn't mean like right now it's just this isn't exactly the location for a bookshop, I meant what are you doing here as in Gotham. You have to understand how suspicious it is to just appear like this here of all places right?"

You stared at him blankly. Before speaking, "Gotham?"

"Gotham City?" Jason tried, feeling a tad foolish and hoping he didn't come off as mocking.

You paused, contemplated, drank some tea and then shrugged. "Is that the name of this place then?"

Jason looked at you, trying to keep his focus on your eyes and not the curved scars of what he was sure now was some sort of sigil. "Okay, let's try this a different way, where are you from?" He tried again, the absurdity of this situation knocking around his brain as it seemed to eat away at any of his competence.

"Europa, if you want specifics my family is from Bohemia but I've lived in Rondon for the past few years until semi recently due to well... circumstance." You did not elaborate on circumstance but rather said it in a manner that made Jason sure he should know what you were referring to. It was common sense, everyone knew by now, and yet the knowledge eluded him entirely. You had said words and they had meanings he was sure of that much, he just had no idea what those meanings were.

It was Jason's turn to stare. "You mean Europe?"

"No? I mean Europa." There was a confusion then in your tone, the sort found over mispronunciation or a poorly spelled text. "I should assume then this is not said continent but—"

"It's not." Jason said, blunt and a little rude but he was nearing the point of frustration. Frustrated at the state of conversation and how it seemed to be halted so soon after speaking, at the lack of answers, at just, the everything about it all. And despite that he took a deep breath and drank some more tea, and waited for you to speak again.

"Then which is it?"

"America." He said, genuinely and utterly flabbergasted. He knew full well that answer was only partially correct but the technicalities seemed to be lagging in the back of his brain in his attempt to comprehend the conversation at hand. There was a part of him that was positive this was a very very elaborate prank. Or perhaps a scheme to get him unmasked. Even if he didn't particularly hold his secret identity in the sanctity as he once did it was still the principle of the matter.

Yet you were staring at him as if he had suddenly burst into song. Something genuine and serious in your expression.

"What the fuck is America."

crow's note: this is a series now, or a mini series? when I've finished I'll probably compile it into one thing on ao3. also i've decided to refer to the reader in this series as "sigils" so if asked about them in the third person I will address them like such however within the actual story they will remain nameless and exclusively referred to with gender neutral pronouns.

series navigation

#fic: sigils scars and the eldritch nature of gotham city #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight imagine #batman go brrr #crowbird's storytime

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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

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Throughout the many iterations of TMNT the four Turtles of the Hamato Clan have always been iconic but Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey aren’t the only Turtles of the family & there have been other mutant Turtles throughout the different iterations of TMNT

Another mutant Turtle is one that has been seen a few times in different TMNT iterations either following a ‘separated at mutation’ plot line or have the mutation happen later in the story

Venus

One of the other mutant Turtles that is quite well known within the TMNT fandom would be Venus De Milo who was the 5th Turtle in the Next Mutation show.

Her background was that she was a 5th Turtle that was mutated with Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey but got swept away in the sewers until she ended up in China Town where she was found by a Shinobi master & taken to be raised in Shanghai, she would later make her way back to New York & join the Turtle’s team.

Venus also makes an appearance as a character in the IDW comics as a former Punk Frog who was made into a Turtle by Dr Barlow using Donnie’s old shell.

Leo: What are you doing!? That was Venus De Magic the Queen of Quick Change!

There’s a slight possible reference to Venus in Rise with one of Leo’s favourite magicians being called Venus De Magic with Leo cradling the bust of one of his favourite magicians feeling a bit similar to Venus holding the statue head that gave her, her nickname & many people believe that there were plans to include Venus in Rise due to the plot of season 3 being the Turtles finding out they had two missing siblings but due to Rise not getting the season 3 it had expected we never got to find out if Venus really was one of the missing siblings in Rise.

Kirby

Closely related to Venus is the mutant Turtle Kirby a 5th Turtle that had been planned to be introduced in the 1990′s film series before the fourth movie was cancelled, named after the comic book artist Jack Kirby, Kirby was meant to be a Turtle from another dimension that would join the Turtles. There was talk of Kirby being the 5th Turtle in the Next Mutation but Saban Entertainment refused to do the series unless the 5th Turtle was a girl leading to Venus being created.

A version of Kirby was designed for the IDW comics where he was meant to be shown as part of the Splinter Clan in Future Lita’s future however though a design was created for Kirby he was not included in the actual comic.

Funnily enough Kirby the Turtle is not the only TMNT character to be named after Jack Kirby as April’s father in the 2012 series also shares the name Kirby

Jennika

Jennika is the 5th Mutant Turtle on the team in the IDW comics, she is a former Foot Clan Ninja who Splinter took under his wing & was mutated into a Turtle when Leo gave her a blood transfusion to save her life.

Before her mutation Jennika had been a friend of the Turtles & the idea of Jennika becoming a mutant Turtle had been tossed around for three years before it was finally finalised.

Jennika’s mutant form was originally designed by Sophie Campbell & coincidentally bares some resemblance to a fan character that Sophie Campbell designed named Artemisia (most likely named after the Italian painter Artemisia Gentileschi), the similarities between Jennika & Artemisia’s designs are said to be a coincidence as it was requested that Jennika’s bandana colour be yellow to match her hair from when she was human.

Sophie Campbell actually did get to include a canon version of Artemisia in the IDW comics by giving her a cameo in Future Lita’s future as a member of the Splinter Clan in the future.

Slash

Slash is arguably the 5th Turtle that has appeared in the most iterations of TMNT appearing in both the 1987 & 2012 series as well as appearing in both the Archie & IDW comics

In the 1987 series Slash was Bebop’s pet turtle who was mutated by Rocksteady & would later become the Turtle’s enemy, in the 2012 series Slash was Raph’s pet turtle who was mutated accidentally & would act as an enemy to the Turtles before becoming their ally & becoming the leader of the Mutanimals.

In the Archie comics Slash is an alien who was banished from his planet in the IDW comics Slash was mutated by StockGen who ended up following Hob & becoming an ally to the Turtles

Slash has even made a cameo in Rise appearing in the episode Bad Hair Day with a character meant to look like Mona Lisa.

Lita

Lita is a little girl who was mutated into a Turtle & taken in by Jennika & the other Turtles, she was named after Lita Ford (Jennika’s favourite singer), & she seems to view Jennika & the other Turtles as family as the Future version of Lita referred to Jennika as ‘mom’ & has called Raph, Donnie & Leo ‘Dad’.

It’s been shown that at some point in the future Lita becomes the apprentice & assistant to a grown up version of Renet

It appears that the future version of Lita is arguably especially close with Leo due to him being her Sensei

Uno, Yi, Moja & Odyn

Uno, Yi, Moja & Odyn are Turtles raised by Casey Marie Jones as the second generation of Ninja Turtles in the Last Ronin universe. The Turtles each seem to take after one of the original four Turtle’s with Uno taking after Leo, Yi taking after Donnie, Moja taking after Raph & Odyn taking after Mikey.

Each of the Turtles are named after the number one in different languages.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt

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saradika · 1 year

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— somewhere only we know

[series masterlist]

din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 4.6k

Tags: spoilers for s3 finale, established relationship, mini fix-it, cottagecore vibes, multiple pov, possessive!din, found family, fluff, angst, cabin smut, references to masturbation and oral, manual restraints, PiV, creampie

A/N - after that finale, I had an urge to write a part iii to the mini neighbor!din series. 💖 Massive thank you to @rescuethewretched for some perfect inspiration with her post, along with being so kind as to beta this!

That seed of want had been planted on Sorgan. Cracking him open and nestling it deep inside.

But he had smothered it, pushing it down. Strapping the armor over the hole it had burrowed in.

Now, with time - it had found life.

After everything - a new life is built on Nevarro.

It takes some time to rebuild. But like before - when the land had just been desert and barren flats, strength had come with it. The sense of community.

Banding together to fit each brick back into place. Repairing what you could, salvaging what had crumbled under the blasts that had reigned down. Spreading that green again - letting it wind into gardens, throughout the streets again.

Karga has another gift for the man who had saved the town. The best bandaid he can offer, materials for a new home - some kilometers away from where the rubble of the old remained.

In that space deeded to the Mandalorians, nestled between the lava flats and Bulloch Canyon.

Days spent mapping the area, before Din picked a spot. Where a small, green-leafed tree already flourished. No longer near the hot springs - but there's a scattering of small ponds with chirping frogs.

Remote - the peek of Nevarro just visible when he turns towards the hills.

It feels safe. It's his.

You are there - helping him get settled in, planning out the garden - for a few weeks before he asks you to stay.

It’s no more than that one word.

Murmured out in the early morning, as you try to slip from his bed. A warm, bare hand wrapping around your wrist - pulling you back under for another few hours.

One night, turning into another.

Until one morning you realize it's been days since you've returned to the small apartment near the trade district, where you had been staying. While the place where you used to live was cleaned up, examined to see what if the structure could be salvaged.

That most of your stuff was already there.

Boxes brought over each time you go into town, things inside eventually finding their way throughout the cabin. Working together to fill the space with things that feel like him.

For the first time, being able to choose. A soft, hidden smile as he explores his preferences - finding an overstuffed chair in one of the shops. A groan as he sinks into it, gloves sliding over the armrests.

It sits in his small living room now. It gets used - in the evenings, in the early mornings.

Memories made, with each moment.

And something else begins to grow, during those hours spent together. Not just the reaching varos saplings, and the neat lines of behot - the seeds brought back by his clan. Gifted and carefully cultivated, with tender fingers.

Sprouting from the flats as time passes, and just as you learn about this new life - you learn more about him.

You find out what those words mean. Picking up the way in which he says them - fondly, whispered in quiet, intimate moments.

Only for you, when you walk through the city together.

Mesh'la. Beautiful. Cyar'ika. Sweetheart.

It sends your own heart tripping and tumbling, each and every time you hear them.

There was one you still didn't know. The one the Mandalorian called Paz had called you, when he found the two of you together.

A low chuckle, when he had visited a few weeks ago - when you quietly asked him what it had meant.

"Ask him yourself, ad'ika." He tells you, a broad hand thumping against your shoulder.

But, he does help you - in the end. Teaching you words that you've been practicing on your own. Still clumsy on your tongue, murmured when you're alone.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.

You'll give them to Din, someday.

When it's perfect.

Because that's what he deserves.

———

It still feels strange, waking up in a space that isn’t moving. That dull ache in his neck and hips slowly fading - no longer sleeping in the pilots chair.

He never thought he’d miss the tiny bunk in the Crest so much, but that was before he had slept all night in a starfighter.

Now, he sleeps in a nest of pillows. Soft sheets and layers of folded blankets. A place that stays put, standing firm and steady.

Slowly filling with things he can call his.

That seed of want had been planted on Sorgan. Cracking him open and nestling it deep inside.

He had been a different man back then. Not ready. But he had still thought a little too long about the offer. Wondering, and wishing.

You and your boy could have a good life.

He could be a child for a while.

Wouldn't that be nice?

It had been.

But he had smothered it, pushing it down. Strapping the armor over the hole it had burrowed in.

Now, with time - it had found life. Much like the grass that has started to push from the flats, growing thick and lush. Slowly spreading, until there’s a blanket to sit on.

To enjoy.

To calm his own. To fill with things with meaning, instead of pure function. Having to pair his belongings down to just the essentials - things that were easy to carry.

He’s found things from his old life, bringing them here. A crate, pulled from storage. A box, there - still sitting unopened.

Finding moments to unpack, in-between time spent under the sun. Making lists of things they still need, things to pick up from the marketplace.

It's in one of those small crates that Grogu finds it. An older memory - something the Child had taken with him on his training. Had kept close to his heart, while they were apart.

Clutched in his tiny fist, held out for his father. A little point with the tip of a claw, through the open door.

Where you bend over the neat rows of flowers, blooming in the sun. Clipping a few to bring in, like you did in the mornings.

Din hadn’t been sure, at first. Had wanted to fill the plots of tilled land with something practical. Grains, maybe. Tall stalks of golden-eared corn.

“We’re the only ones out here.” You had laughed, “We’re not exactly short on space, Din.”

You hadn’t seen the soft curl of a smile as his head had ducked. Yielding.

Later - alone - he had admired the plucked bouquet on the small table they shared. Taking the briefest moment to lift his helmet. Inhaling the layers - fruity and light, filling the space with more colors than he had seen in a long time.

Grogu waves the piece again, tugging him back from the memory.

"You think so?" Din asks, taking it from him.

It fits between his orange-tipped fingers. Thinking he understands his son’s meaning. That maybe, it’s been something he’s been thinking about, too.

He'll find a new cord, something more suitable.

Saving it - until he is ready.

———

It seems to suit him. Having someone to look after. That acceptance of their enduring bond - something that had always been there, that he had just hesitated with putting a name to.

How Grogu seems to be more capable than ever, but how there's still those muscles that bunch in Din's back, as he prepares to reach out, to offer a helping hand.

Openly worrying, like a father.

Maybe it's that acknowledgment that knocks something loose. Allowing him to finally welcome the things he truly wants, instead of rejecting or running from them.

Putting down roots somewhere, after years of calling hyperspace his home.

Maybe even to lean into them. Moments and things that he's never had before. No longer leaving for a bounty all alone.

No - now he has someone waving him off, a kiss pressed against the curve of his helmet. He has a "come back safe" and a "thinking of you" to hold close to his chest while they're gone.

A voice at the other end of the comm, when he calls.

Someone waiting for him to get back, happy and smiling.

He has you.

The recklessness fades. That foolhardy rushing in for a bounty, depending on past experiences and instinct to carry him through to the other side.

He tells himself it's because of the kid, when he slows down. When he is more careful of his choices when Captain Teva comms.

But maybe, he does it for himself, too.

For the first time in his life.

Bringing him back here, every time. Grogu tucked and sleeping against his chest as he arrives home after dark. The stars above shining down on the little cabin.

The starfighter touching down on the landing pad, moved some ways off from the house. Far enough that it doesn't rattle the tidy kitchen when he takes off, far enough that it doesn't wake you with an early departure.

Stepping down onto familiar soil as he climbs from the cockpit. So certain that you'd be in bed, already dreaming.

But there's a light on, he can see it from here. A golden beacon, calling to him to the place he now calls home.

Unconsciously, his steps quicken. Bringing him closer, until he can see your silhouette through the opened window.

On another night, he might scold - unable to the help the worry. Telling you to keep that window closed. To keep yourself safe.

But tonight, all he can focus on is you. Seeing now the clothes you wear, as you read - waiting up for him.

Knowing when it's dark and his nose is burying in your neck, that it will be your sweet scent perfuming the clothes that he can tell you're borrowing.

Mixing, melding together.

Layered, in a way that is impossible to untangle.

———

There’s the soft swish of the front door opening, but you wait patiently. Listening to the long-memorized path, a he moves throughout the small cabin.

Storing his rifle by the front door. The shuffle as he removes his boots, another hiss as the small side room is opened. His son tucked carefully and lovingly into the tiny bed.

The slow cadence of his steps, as he is slowly brought back to you.

Already smiling, when he fills the doorway.

He always seemed to do that. Encompass this small space you share. His armor making him thick and broad, and you can never help the little leap your heart does - rising up to your throat - when he leans over to to grab something.

Caging you in against the counter - whether on accident or purpose, you’re not sure. You think on purpose, judging by the short buzz of breath, when your eyes so unconsciously tip up to find his. Hidden away, behind the visor.

Always leading to something else. There’s lots of places you’ve found out here - places that aren’t so easily stumbled upon.

You’re already pushing up to go to him, your body melding against his. A long-held sigh releasing from his lungs, and his shoulders relax.

As you lead him to the bed - as he lets your hands brace on his chest, until his shoulders are pressing against the mattress.

Until you’re climbing on, after.

This is what you think about, when he’s gone.

The familiarity of your fingers, as they pluck at hidden buckles. The careful way you remove each piece - setting the shining armor in the woven basket at the end of the bed.

It’s second nature now, and the way you move so easily thrills you. Knowing that you know him in a way that no one else has.

Knowing that he can say the same, about you.

Each piece has its own place, as his hands rest on your thighs. Gloves removed the second he was inside, fingers tracing paths on equally bare skin.

Until it’s just his helmet that remains, the softest glint of the stars off the shining visor as his head tilts upward.

“Do you want me to close the blinds?” You murmur.

It’s dark. More than enough for some, but you’ve come know him. Respecting his beliefs, and are already rising to cut the light from above off completely.

His hands tighten on your thighs - voice buzzing low though the vocoder.

“No.”

A pause, as his hands swoop. Finding yours and squeezing. Guiding them to his helmet.

“Not tonight.”

It makes your stomach flip, the words already on the tip of your tongue, “Are you sure? I can-”

You can close your eyes, like before. Could wear a blindfold - anything that makes him comfortable.

But instead, his fingers are mapping yours. A soft hiss as you both lift the helmet - before you’re leaning over him, resting it carefully in its place on the table next to the bed.

Then, he’s pulling you down. A rough groan in his throat as your lips meet his, as you smile. Unable to help the giddy grin, the fingers that brush through soft curls.

Reacquainting your mouth with his, making up for the week that has passed. Soft and chaste - growing deeper when his hand spans the back of your neck.

The other pressing between your shoulder blades, until your body melts against his again.

Still broad-shouldered, without the armor. Still filling a good part of the bed - a fixture in this cabin.

Your fingers make quick work of the flightsuit, even as your mouth slots with his.

More zippers and snaps that you know well. Rough canvas giving way to warm skin, his hands joining yours as he pulls his arms from the sleeves.

Rolling off him, just for a moment. While he shucks the lower half from him - before he’s pulling you back on top.

Nestling himself between your thighs. Hard and thick, the evidence of how much he missed you. Mutual huffs of breath as your hips rock - only the cloth of your underwear separates you.

His hands wander then - fingers brushing from shoulder, to neck. Sweeping and dipping across your front, down between your breasts. Imagining something only he can see.

As he wonders if it’s time.

The thoughts unraveling as his fingers drop instead, to pluck at the ties of the tunic you wear.

Loosening them, so he can lean upward. His turn now, to strip the layers from you. Fingertips pushing the fabric from your shoulder, before it’s tugged over your head.

The moon and stars spilling streaks against skin, as you peel off the last piece. Until you’re bared fully, feeling the weight of his gaze dragging over you.

Fingers still twisted in the fabric, before it’s dropped off the edge of the bed. Tracing over your curves after, feeling where the goosebumps rise. The taut peaks of your breasts, under his thumbs.

You sigh, breathed out into the night. Missing him, wanting him, aching for him.

This slowness is another thing you’ve discovered. A countdown of time no longer lingering about his head. A ever-growing list of things he had to do on those short visits, trying to fit as much time with you in-between as he could.

Pounding into you, the breath pushed from your lungs. Leaving you gasping as his helmet presses against your forehead. Gone - the next morning.

No, now - he takes his time. Slow and steady and winding you up. Until the frenzied movement comes from pure need, chasing the release. So wrapped up you forget everything else except the pleasure.

You rise up on your knees to take him. Can feel the thudding between your thighs, the dampness that glistens on sensitive skin.

His hands tighten instead. Rocking you forward instead, until your slick cunt slides against his cock. A rumble you can feel, as your hands splay flat across his chest.

“Din.” You protest, trying to move again.

Those hands, still gripping on.

“What did you do while I was gone?”

If the helmet was on, you’d never hear the soft tremor. The rasp of his words, that edge that is so soften masked.

It has you blinking, pulling you out of the haze.

“I, uh-,” You lick your lips, distracted by his question. The way you can feel the twitch of his cock, when you grind yourself against him, “I worked.”

A tiny smile as you add, “And I missed you, of course.”

He hums at that, as your hips make another pass. As you make another attempt to rise, your hands pressing against his chest.

Din still holds you steady.

“Did you miss me at night?” He asks, a knowing tone to his words, “In our bed?”

You can feel your cheeks burn - as a sweet embarrassment, and then a heat, floods through you. Fingers curling into fists, pressing against his sternum.

Our bed.

If the question had been yours, you would have said his bed. But instead, he shares this space with his words, making it just as much yours.

“Yes.” You breathe, and he groans. Pushing up against you, grinding his cock against your slick center.

“Show me.”

There’s an expectancy to his request that has you squirming. The slightest hesitance, before your fingers slide down, across his chest, then stomach. Letting him feel their path, waiting until the last possible moment to lift them.

Brushing the tips against the head of his straining cock, as you find your neglected clit. Lightly dragging a fingers across the sensitive nub, finally getting a bit of that friction you’ve been aching for.

Your moan is a soft, drawn out “oh”. Laced with relief, as your fingers press and circle. The other hand still braced on him, as you shift into your own touch.

His own fingers flutter. Petting over your breasts and down your hips. A thumb brushing across your mound, the breadth of his hands framing where yours works.

The starlight shines more on you. He can see glimpses of your fingers, the part of your lips as you pant. His own fingers joining yours, following the tight patterns.

“What did you think about?” He rasps, as your eyes close.

Your chin tipping down, your breath now ragged. He always knows just how to touch you.

Knows your body as well as you know the straps of his beskar armor, and can take you apart just as easily.

“You.” You whimper, your free hand gripping at his hip, anchoring yourself, “How much I wanted you. How it’s never-“

A gasp, as the pleasure flickers through you like lightning. Starting in your core and radiating outwards.

“N-never as good. When you’re not here.”

His exhale is sharp, the grip on your waist loosening. As he guides your hips against his. Still sliding against him, smearing your arousal on his cock.

Not sure how much longer he can draw this out, not with you saying such pretty things.

Swallowing as your own question comes, almost surprising yourself with your boldness.

“Did you think of me? While you were gone?”

In the darkness you miss the quick, sharp pull of teeth and lips. The growling groan that catches in his throat, as his fingers still circle.

“Yes,” He rasps, “Always.”

The answer has you clenching around nothing. Needy and desperate to hear more.

Barely managing to ask, “What did you think about?”

His fingers leave you, and you mourn them. Gathering at your waist again - lifting you this time. Angling his cock so it kisses against your lips, nudges against your entrance.

“This,” He growls, as he tugs you down.

Your moan is loud as he fills you. That familiar and sweet stretch as you take him in a long, fluid thrust. A stiffness to your shoulders as you sit, your ass flush to his hips.

His cock shoved as deep as he can, stealing your breath and words. Breathing the air back in as you slowly begin to ride him. Shallow bounces as your knees dig into the bedspread.

It’s hazy, in the dark. Near featureless - but as you move, there’s the hint of something. The curve of his nose. The scruff of his jaw, dark and just starting to pepper grey.

Features you’ve tracing with your fingertips, in those evenings before. Pressing a kiss to against the curve of his cheek, instead of the sharp curve of beskar.

You don’t know that he does this, during the day. Far enough out that there’s rarely uninvited guests.

Rising early, as the rest of the cabin sleeps. Feeling the dew-sprinkled grass beneath bare toes, as the morning breeze rustles his hair.

A stolen moment, before the day begins.

Dreaming of sharing one with you, one day.

Until then, he settles for this. Your soft touches and patience and the silky darkness of the night curling around you both.

Enveloping you, with the roll of your hips - your hands braced on his chest. Pushing down with your hands now as you rise up, the soft heat that he sinks into when you drop back down.

Taking him to the hilt, again and again.

Slowly picking up speed, finding your rhythm as his fingers find the soft space between your thighs again.

Dragging you towards something that licks red-hot in your belly. Fueled by the teasing - the knowledge that your swiftly budding feelings might not be all so different that his.

It feels like too much. The flutter of your heart, you eyes close so you can hear the soft grit of his words.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Stars, cyar’ika. Keep going, just like that.”

It has your warning sticking in your throat, as those two, broad fingers tease at you.

“Din-”

You like saying it, but not nearly as much as he loves hearing it.

“Din, I’m so close.”

“I know.” He husks, as his hips rock up to meet you. Feeling how you clench down around him, how your rhythm has slowed to a sloppy grind.

That press of his fingers winding you up and up and up. An invisible string tugging you toward him, until his mouth is pressing open-mouthed against your neck.

Whatever your response was disappears as you fall, and then shatter. The sound coming out as a sharp gasp instead, one that he can feel as his lips suck a mark against your skin.

Just a senseless rutting of your hips now, as you chase the sweet pulse between your thighs. The way he feels as you clench around him, as his fingers never seem to slow.

Robbing you of your strength, the pleasure that scatters throughout your limbs replaced with a warm, liquid lead. Weighing you down as your body sinks against his, your face curling against his neck.

Remembering how to breathe again, coaxed by a calloused hand that smooths down your back. The shift of his hips that remind you of where you are - your focus on what you want so much more clear, now.

You want to feel him. Want to make him feel just as good as you did right now.

He lets you ride him. Until your arms are trembling with the effort - still coming down from your high.

Pushing himself up until he’s sitting, his back pressed against the metal headboard. His hands moving to grip the underside of your thighs - tugging you up just the slightest bit, until he’s doing the work for you.

Thrusting up, dragging his cock against your walls. Pounding into you as his skin claps against your, each pushing a breath from his chest.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers twisting in his hair. Fingers biting into your skin, enough to pinch. The cadence of his breathing growing rougher, shorter - until those hands are moving your your waist.

Pulling you down, holding you there, as he pushes deep one last time. His groan seeming loud in this small room, wordless as it echoes in your ears.

As his hips rut against yours - try to work himself even deeper as he spills into you. Palms press into your back, keeping you flush against him, as a nose nudges against your neck.

The warm exhale of his breath eventually slowing, a kiss placed against the spot where your heart thuds in your throat.

After, you curl up in his arms. A smile pressed into bare skin as the evening wind cools your sweat-dewed skin. Listening to the croak of frogs and the rustle of leaves as you wait for the thudding of your hearts to slow.

Your mind is already drifting to tomorrow. To all the things you want to do together, all the questions to want to ask about the latest bounty, even as your eyes grow heavy.

While his is placed more in the present.

Knowing that right now…

There’s no place he’d rather be.

———

The sun breaks on a gorgeous summer day.

It mirrors your mood, as your steps take you out of the small cabin. Through the garden you’ve built together.

It feels like such a luxury, to call this place your own. To have something that feels like it belongs to you, that you’re not just staying there - mingling with the ghosts and memories of before.

It fills a space inside you that’s been empty for some time. Pieces finally clicking into place, as you bask in that sense of belonging.

A small oasis in the rolling planes of desert and earth. Far enough away from town that sometimes, it truly feels like it’s just the three of you.

You had asked Din, one time. If he had minded the quiet, living in such solitude.

“Don’t you miss it?” You had asked, “How things were, before?”

He had been sitting next to you, then. In that little spot just outside the door, a leg kicked up against the a thick piece of railing.

Leaning back against the wall, arms shifting over his chest as he had answered without hesitating.

“No.” Din has rasped, “Not at all.”

The memory makes you smile.

The slightest ache to your knees when you bend down to pluck a ruby-red tomato from its vine.

The remnants of your thorough second welcoming home, while in the sonic that morning. The slightest wobble in your step, from when he had returned the favor, back in the bed.

A hand shielding your eyes when you hear the sets of footsteps behind you. The basket tucked under your arm as you crouch to greet Grogu as he coos, something small and brown clutched in his fist.

Held out, dropped into your cupped hands.

It wasn’t unusual that they brought something back. A small trinket when there was time. More seeds, for the garden.

But there was something about it that makes you slow down, as you reach inside. A fluttering in your stomach, an anticipation.

Something about Din’s posture at he waits, some steps away. Strung-tight - missing the cock of his hips, the bend of his knee.

It glints in the light, as you tip it into your palm. Polished to a pretty shine, though there are areas that are still darkened with age and time.

A necklace, the silver charm dangling at the end of a leather cord. A long skeleton face with curving horns, that looks familiar.

The low voice comes, breaking through your thoughts.

“We wanted you to have this.”

Din hovers near you, hands braced on his hips. Grogu peeks up with flickering ears and bright eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” You tell him truthfully, a thumb sweeping over the metal. A weight to it, a solidness filled with memories and meanings.

“It’s the symbol of the Mandalorians. A Mythosaur.” He explains - tone flat and patient from behind his helmet.

Masking the tones that would color them, if his helmet had been removed. Hiding the full meaning of his gift.

“If anyone comes by while we’re away, they won’t harm you. You’ll be protected.”

It warms you.

That he still worries, even after danger has passed.

Your head ducks as you slip the cord around your neck. Adjusting it carefully with slow fingers.

“Thank you.” You tell them both.

Brimming with something too tender to name, as the pendant rests against your chest.

It feels right, resting there. Against your skin. So close to the place that pounds so steadily for him.

It feels like a promise.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you ("I will know you forever.") / mesh’la - beautiful / cyare & cyar’ika - sweetheart / ad’ika - little one

behot - a citrusy herb that is native to Mandalore

varos - a fruit native to Mandalore, known for its velvety aroma when ripe

Thank you so much for reading! So happy to write something sweet and hopeful for Din. 💖

#din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian spoilers #mando s3 spoilers

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rollypoliesonarock · 11 months

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No one asked, but here's a vest tour! I've added a bunch since I last talked about it here, so here's the update!

Here's the full front and back

Most of this I made myself. The patches were mostly made by hand embroidery (anything machine done was probably given to me as a gift), with the exception of a couple that were just markers on white fabric.

Under the decorative patches is also a layer of random fabric patches, mostly from leftover projects scrap fabric, or old clothes I didn't know what to do with.

There's also some random paint splashes in green and red, and a ton of pop tabs and safety pins thrown around in empty spaces.

The pins I made were made from painted bottle caps, and held on with a pop tab and safety pin combo, with the edges of the bottle cap bent to hold it in place

The vest itself I got from a family member's friend, and said family member didn't want it. So she gave it to me to put patches on. I used it as a formal jacket for a year, but I didn't like how the sleeves felt, so I cut them off and ended up putting patches on it anyway. I've been working on this vest since last January, but many of the patches and stuff were transferred from my old jacket that I have other plans for, but that's for a different post.

Inside, plus the snack pouch

so much white embroidery floss, I'm surprised I'm still able to scrape up some in my embroidery floss drawer

Front top left (from the perspective of someone looking at me)

Gay frog pin is the only pin I own I paid for, I found all the rest for free from various events and also the library likes giving people free pins

Front top right

Got the Vulpix pin from some random lady at the empanada restaurant because she liked my nerdy jacket. A few months ago I reconnected with an old friend, who recognized the art style. So that's kinda neat

Front bottom left

I used to have the heart/brain patch sewn on an older jacket (that is no longer with us). I am never attempting to stick a needle through that thing again. Easily my most painful patch I own. Also a little keychain ring so I can clip stuff to my vest

Front bottom right

The worm's name is wormy, named by my friend who loves him. Wormy has been through a lot, and before finding a safe home on my vest, rotated between being a room decoration and a cat toy

The hotelier patch (the house on the pocket) is probably my favorite music based patch I've made. I spent way too much time on it, but I think it turned out nice in the end!

Back top

the trans flag section in the center is my favorite part. The peace was never an option patch is usually peoples favorite, and I get compliments on it regularly. It's hard to see, but the patch at the bottom left of the flag is the chemical formula for testosterone

Back bottom left

The QR code is a Rick roll, and also fully functional. When I made it, a picture of it was floating around between my friends between various group chats. I had one friend who tried to go to lengths to avoid getting tricked, until one of his friends sent him the picture, and he actually scanned it before realizing it's the QR code on my back. He was (jokingly) upset at me the next day. I want to make another qr code to a song I like more, but that one took longer than most my other patches do, so I'm not sure it's worth it.

Back bottom right

The Kos-mos patch (blue haired girl on left) is my favorite non music patch on here. It just feels like one of my most well made patches. Not much to say here, I just like the patch a lot

So yeah, that's my vest. No clue how many patches are actually on this, or how many hours I've put into this thing already, but it's probably a high number whatever it is.

If this gets at least 0.5 notes Ill talk about my other patch stuff, of which I've got a lot of.

#patches #battle jacket #embroidery #clothes #pins #diy #art #punk #emo

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extemts · 18 days

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Hii!!!Idk if you write like brother x brother stuff (PLATONIC, NOT romantic), but id like a story where male! Reader (or you can make it g/n, its really your choice) finds out that joost is his like long lost half older brother, and they like meet and do everything together:33 Maybe child! Reader too??? I think Joost would be js so amazing to kids, thats why + its kinda comforting in a way

Ty!!

No way? Mini me?

this idea is so cute!!! ugh i can't, enjoy this little story of 6-8 year old reader getting to know his older brother joost! i haven't written more than 1-2 things that are specifically about family yet so forgive me if this isn't perfect.

let's ignore joost's background family wise for this one because i have trouble to figure out how it could possibly work.

not proofread!

You always knew that family wise, something was missing. While you had the best friends at school that would always come over to your house after school, just to hang out in your garden now that summer was around the corner, you were longing for someone at home aswell, like a sibling, however your moms have explained to you why that isn't exactly possible.

"Mom! We found frogs today!" you yell excitedly as you run out of school and into the arms of your mother who was smiling from ear to ear as she swiftly picked you up and into her arms, saying something about how big and strong you've gotten, and how it's becoming harder to lift you. It was nice to see mom like this, so happy and relaxed, unlike usual when coming home from work. The fact she even picked you up a happy meal on her way to school had to mean that today was a really good day.

The drive home was mostly calm but just as you parked in front of your house and peaked into the garden, seeing a stranger with your mummy, something felt weird. "Listen kiddo, you're a big boy now and you should know this. You know how mummy and I took you into our care when you were very little?" your mom explained to you slowly, making sure you could follow her. "What we didn't know at that time was that you actually had an older brother. A few days ago we found out about him and he wants to meet you today." she carefully unbuckled you and opened the door the moment she could openly see the excitement on your face when the words 'older brother' fell. Leaving your bag in the car, you climb out of your seat to run straight to the gate, struggling to open it at first. When it finally clicked you fell right into your new found brothers arms who was following every step you made with a wide grin on his face.

"Easy there buddy!" the tall blonde man could only laugh, your excitement filling him with equally as much joy. "Now don't just claim Joost! Get to know him first." your mummy shook her head at the view of you two but all you could think about right now was how you finally had a brother to play with now. "Mum, mummy! I have a brother!! You're so cool!" Joost feels his heart warm up as he holds you in his arms, not caring about how dirty those clothes were from playing outside all day. You on the other hand couldn't believe that you had an older brother, someone with all these cool tattoos aswell! And a funny little mustache like the dads in all of your picture books. Now that you got a good look at him, all of the similarties became clear.

This whole brother thing was entirely new for the older one of the pair aswell- having only learned about this a few days ago when these two random women showed up at his front door only to explain to him that they were the mothers of a brother he didn't even know he had? That's a messy situation to just find out about, but knowing there was still a part of his parents running around somewhere while catching worms in the dirt, laughing with his knees bruised from falling off his bicycle just like him was something he couldn't possibly be happier about. Those last few days were filled with getting to know the mothers of his sibling and to his surprise, they truely got along perfectly, which might be because they were just a few years older than him. Now that Joost got to meet this little ball of joy who was pulling him all around the garden to show him his trampoline, the swing or his toys, all worries about this have dissappeared.

"Have you ever had a trampoline?" you kick off your shoes before staring up at him with big round eyes only to be surprised when receiving a head shake. "Come on!! You're missing out!" you giggle to yourself as you pull yourself up the high trampoline that was savely surrounded by a net. Letting yourself fall into it face first before scooting away when your brother, who's name was Joost which just made him even more awesome because thats what your favorite stuffed animal was called, joins you carefully while still talking to your mummys.

"Your adult stuff is boring!!" you stick out your tongue to all three of them before jumping up and right into your brother, taking him down onto the trampoline and pff of his legs.

It seems both of your lives have gained a new sun, giggling away the hours like both of you were little kids.

Requests are open!

#joost klein #joost #joost klein fanfiction #fanfiction #long lost siblings #RAHHH

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bluemoonperegrine · 18 days

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One Giant Leap - Part I

This is a silly yet angsty one-shot in the Hallmark by Knight universe that combines an idea @vicarious-rebel and I had kicked around with Jake being the one to finally tell Jack about the system's DID. This isn't how it will go down in HbK canon. It's an AU to the AU, if you will.

Translations of the handful of Spanish phrases are at the end.

Jack frowned on his perch atop the Giant Dipper, the old wooden rollercoaster he hadn’t ridden since the whole family had visited Belmont Park when he and Lissa were teenagers. Mostly to distract from his urge to help Marc, he said through his balaclava to the mic clipped on his T-shirt, “Bebé, this isn’t natural.”

The spiky creature the size of a tractor trailer got its webbed feet under itself as Moon Knight, grass-stained and soaked from fighting in Bonita Cove, flew straight at it. A Bluetooth earpiece carried Marc’s reply. “YA THINK?!?”

Marc slammed into the beast, sending both of them into the miniature windmill of an already mostly trashed mini-golf course. Authorities had evacuated the area an hour earlier, when the monster had lumbered out of the Pacific. One of Marc’s contacts had alerted him, which immediately changed their plans for the day.

“Frogs can’t tolerate salt water,” Jack informed his partner, who probably wasn’t listening because the giant frog had wrapped its long tongue around him. “Bebé! Let me—”

“No!” Marc cried as he took to the air again despite his pinned arms. The tongue pulled taut but held, pulling a thrashing Moon Knight toward its gaping maw. “Stay safe!”

Finally! Jack thought, half sliding and half climbing down the ladder he’d used to get to the rollercoaster’s peak. “Stay safe” had a lot more wiggle room than “Stay there.” Although Khonshu would bring Marc back from death, Jack wasn’t about to stand back and watch his partner die if he could intervene.

The earpiece carried increasingly frantic cries as Jack neared the bottom of the ladder with his back turned to the fight in progress. With twenty feet left to go, Jack pushed off the ladder, twisting around in mid-air and hoping to find Marc breaking free.

The monster’s wide mouth snapped shut on white cape as Jack’s feet hit the ground. Wet, stomach-turning noises replaced Marc’s screams.

Jack's wolf side roused, furious and lethal, and he found himself at a dead run aimed at the predator. His halves had reached an unspoken agreement: his human mind was needed to save his mate. If that was unsuccessful, he’d bite and slash and kill as the wolf.

With forty feet between him and his target, Jack jumped a custodian’s cart, grabbing a broom along the way. The broom head was useless, but the handle could skewer the monster’s eyes.

Twenty feet.

The huge amphibian turned and trudged east, toward the cove’s sandy shore.

Holding the broom overhead, Jack leaped while roaring as best he could with human vocal cords. A similar cry sounded in his ear—one he hadn’t heard since the Tecate mission—as the wooden pole pierced a tire-sized eyeball. Then the frog’s enormous webbed foot lashed out and Jack was hurtling backwards. He hit the ground hard and rolled.

With the gory sounds of a brawl straight out of a horror movie in his ear, Jack looked up to find the frog writhing from something within.

The sound of blood rushing in his ears nearly swamped out what he heard from the earpiece. He murmured, “Bebé?”

The frog’s mouth opened and poured out blood.

“Más o menos,” Marc gasped.

Half of a gold crescent blade jabbed through the creature’s flesh and slashed a wide arc. The frog bellowed as blood and bile flowed, then collapsed.

The wireless earpiece carried Marc’s panting and swearing in Spanish as he pushed through the cut he’d made through the monster.

Beaming, Jack rushed up to him, wishing he could take off his balaclava and Marc could remove his bloody cowl and mask. Although no people were around, surveillance cameras surely were, not to mention the helicopters and drones overhead.

“Corazón,” Jack sighed as he wrapped his arms around his partner despite the ichor. Marc’s hug seemed hesitant; he must be injured.

Jack let go and took a step back, noticing how the suit’s mask and some of the linen wrappings were now black instead of their usual white. Chuckling, he said, “Being swallowed by a giant frog inspired a new look?”

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

[ This isn't a scene break. I need to get some work done, is all. I was inspired, so I banged this out. ]

bebé = baby Más o menos = More or less corazón = darling, dear (literally "heart")

#moon knight #werewolf by night #fan fiction #hallmark by knight #crack treated seriously #angst #werewolf by night fanfiction #moon knight fanfic

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nights-flying-fox · 3 months

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It's Not Pain (It's Applause)

So!! I learned today is one of my fav albums' anniversary, and of course i had to write something quickly based on a song in the album!! I present you this Dimension Hopper Leo AU fic, which is just Hop looking through his adventures and thinking at late night hours. I didn't check it for any mistakes, so i hope everything is correct haha!! The song that the fic is heavily inspired is "Battle Cries" by The Amazing Devil :]

(Also Null belongs to @noxvee6 and Twin-Sync AU belongs to @little-banjo-frog ^^ )

Tagging @tmntaucompetition because it is mentioned here too, even if not very detailed hehe

《 words and ao3 link will be added later, I don't think there are anything that needs warning, but if there is please tell me so I can add!!》

☆ ☆ ☆

He had never thought he would see an older version himself from an outside view, let alone himself. But fate had surprised him. Perhaps it wasn't fate at all, but his choices.

Turning the pages of the notebook he wrote his discoveries in, he sighed. He looked at the pictures of Neon. He was one of the future versions of himself that he had met. He had ended up being a great friend to him, teaching him some basics. He smiled at the picture of him being busy as a leader. Neon had given him hope, maybe one day he could be like him. He was afraid of the possibility and the responsibility, but those were just a few details next to many good possibilities.

He still regretted not asking him some things, but who knows, maybe one day he would. And maybe one day he could annoy the heck out of him, tell him he met a Leo with hair, pointing out his lies. (He was aware he could never know about that possibility, but it was worth teasing the old man.)

He also was one of the people who had proven he wasn't alone. When alone, at night he thought about how without his family he wouldn't go far, he would remember him just like others. He would answer the question of who would save him if he fell (but could they save him when he fell in the deepest part of it all, when he would accept he wouldn't be able to go back home?).

Leo shook his head. He didn't want to think of any possibilities about the future. He had found a moment of relaxation, a calm hour. Who would've known it would be so hard to rest while visiting almost every timeline that exists? Somehow, trouble never stopped finding them. Make it a villain, a plot twist, or a war. There always was something to do, even if he didn't belong. Even if he had his own war to win, a home to reach.

He turned the page, humming at the image of the four turtles who had recently discovered they were a family. Honestly, they must've been idiots to not notice they were related. Or maybe it felt like that to him because these faces belonged to his family as well. Whatever, he was happy to have met them and to know fate had reunited them. They had a lot to catch up to, just as Leo would when he would reunite with his family.

Turning pages he came across the picture of younger Big Mama and Lou Jitsu. He cringed, remembering the way he ended up in the past. They sure had an interesting love story, but it definitely was not Leo's cup of tea.

He turned the page quickly. After a short while he ended up seeing the grumpiest Leo in the universe. Null's big frown was visible in the picture. His smile returned, big and genuine. Who would know a version of you who wanted you dead would end up being as close to you as your real family? Leo hoped to see him soon, tease him by calling him his big brother. He was sure Null didn't mind, but the guy would do the favor of rolling his eyes and going along with it. He was proud to know him, seeing how he grew to be a better person. He hoped he was proud to know Leo as well.

And then there were the pages dedicated to the competition he had found himself in. Various alternative versions of his family were all over the pages. He wasn't even sure if he knew all of them. He still grinned, it was fun. The other Leo and Donnie– they were team Twin-Sync– had become great friends of his, and multiple pictures of them together decorated a single page. He had also gained a new fear towards mushrooms, and had found a new fun game to play. Who would know Muppets could be so bloodthirsty? Game nights were wild…

He closed it and sighed, so many memories. So many dimensions and timelines. He was happy for all of them. Everything he had learned, everything that helped him become someone better. Everyone he had met and knew and helped. Every time he hopped somewhere new, it felt like restarting a new work of art– at least a Mikey had used that metaphor once he explained to him his adventures. And so many times he was told to hop away once he could, but so many times Leo refused. He couldn't stand to see his family in danger (again). And no matter the pain, it was worth it. Everything was worth for any version of his family. With them he felt like he could summon the Gods and the stars. Heck, he even felt like they were Gods. (He pushed back the memory of an older self of his saying that they were just kids.)

And there were times he had trouble with those versions. Some that didn't trust him, and some that he had to not trust. There were bitter moments, but there were good ones too. (He swallowed down the pain of the words he had heard from some. The way some wield them as if he was an enemy.) They tried to get rid of him, sometimes. They must've forgotten Leo was stubborn. They could say goodbye, but he won't.

Leo took a deep breath. It was crazy how he had ended up here. Everywhere. Whatever. It was as if he was walking in the darkness searching for light, but the darkness grew. (And he was afraid he was sinking so deep it was too late.) But he wouldn't give up (even if everything felt like going against him). He wouldn't turn his nights into them, especially when he was about to hop again.

Maybe one day he would do everything. Enjoy the calm, or show his skills in a fight. Maybe he would make a season finale, find the right portal. The smiles of others that he reflected would be truly his family's. (And no longer his mask would hide the tears.) Instead of staying, he'd keep hopping as much as he would keep hoping. (He would hide his fears with every new beginning.)

And he would take a sigh. (And the battle cries in his mind would be buried deep.)

And every time, it will be worth it for them. It can't hurt him if he'd have people he loved with him.

(He wouldn't scream. Maybe he was at the end of all the things. It wasn't the time to ask himself how he was.) As long as he believed, he was okay. He was fine.

Maybe tomorrow was the day. And finally, maybe everything would be over.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #dimension hopper leo au #the amazing devil #happy birthday the horror and the wild i love you #nighty writey #rottmnt leo #BATTLE CRIES #my belived #Spotify

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starry-blue-echoes · 2 months

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I found this old snippet 90% finished in my drafts so W O E, 2k words of Tonio being my favorite character and Mr.Giovanna slowly understanding that he is not in fact Giogio's father anymore <333

(also tw for implied/referenced child abuse since Giorno)

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Tonio noticed the second the man approached Giorno’s table.

His customers knew better than to do so. They knew the boy was under his personal protection and it was best to steer clear. A greeting hello when the boy arrived, a brief exchange of conversation, an offered treat or trinket was of course allowed, but approaching his booth while Tonio was not present?

That was not common.

In fact, by the time Tonio made it out of the kitchen and to the dining area, the man had gathered quite a bit of attention from the other customers if the glances being cast his way were anything to go by.

The man was practically looming over Giorno’s booth, all but boxing the boy into his seat and talking in a low voice so as to not be overheard. Tonio couldn’t even see Giorno from his spot.

Tonio did not like this.

He did not like this one bit.

So plastering on his best Customer Service Smile, he approached.

“Excuse me sir,” he spoke up, keeping his voice light and pleasant. “My apologies, but at this establishment you must wait to be seated.”

The man turned to face him, not moving away from the booth and instead attempting to slide a softer, kinder mask over his features.

Hm.

It was sloppy, Tonio couldn't help but note. Sure the facial expressions were… passable, he supposed, but his body language was all wrong. Maybe spending so much time amongst the real dangers in Italy had made him a bit of a snob, but honestly this was laughable.

“Ah, you misunderstand sir, I’m not here to eat, though I have heard good things about this restaurant.” the man waved him off with what was supposed to be a lighthearted chuckle that only succeeded in feeling patronizing. “I’m here to pick up my son.”

“Oh?” Tonio responded with a slit tilt of the head, and a cold, cold feeling slipped into his gut. “You’re this boy’s father then? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Step father, technically.” Mr.Giovanna explained, the veiled insult sailing clear over his head. “His mother already had him when I stepped into the picture, but I see and love him as my own.”

His smile got tighter when he saw Giorno, kind, smart, shy Giorno who loved frogs and ladybugs and the color pink and listening to Tonio talk about recipes, flinch.

“I see.” was all he offered.

Tonio knew so little. So, so little. Part of him knew it was purposeful. That he was giving himself plausible deniability. An empty comfort.

But he knew enough. He’d always known enough. More than enough really.

And now it was looking him dead in the eyes and spitting in his face, daring him to lie down and take it.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’d best be getting back to the house before your mother starts dinner. Come along, Giorno, you’ve taken up enough of this man’s time.”

How long has he been standing idly by as he’d seen Giorno hurt?

How many times has he knowingly allowed Giorno to return to that sorry excuse of a family?

How many times has he merely nursed his injuries instead of doing anything to stop them from happening in the first place?

Well no longer.

“Actually, sir.” he interrupted. “I have some…. concerns I’d like to speak with you about.”

The man froze before slowly turning toward him.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and he not very subtly squared his shoulders to make himself look bigger.

“Oh?”

How funny. The man thought he was intimidating.

Tonio had done a bit of asking around about Giorno’s family when the boy hadn't been present. Nothing too nosey of course, just the standard gossip that was floating around which he generally got quite a lot of.

And the results of his findings were quite fruitful.

Mr.Giovanna had a temper and was somewhat quick to anger, and he’d had a few dealings with the underworld, but that was as all. The man wasn't anyone important nor did he have any connections whatsoever.

He was just a simple, ordinary, powerless man.

A man who in the long run wouldn’t be able to do a thing to Tonio.

Tonio did not normally like taking advantage of his position, of the power he had at his fingertips. The near crippling fear of entrenching himself further and further into this world always had held him at bay, but in this moment he was more than willing to make an exception for this.

“Yes.” he made a slight show of stepping slightly closer to Mr.Giovanna and the booth seat, closer than was socially acceptable and a clear challenge to the man’s current proximity to Giorno. “And in all honesty, I’m not quite certain I feel comfortable allowing you to leave with this boy.”

“And for what reasons would that be?” Mr.Giovanna was openly glaring at him now, trying and failing to loom over a man who had a few centimeters on him.

“I notice things, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, keeping his words clipped and flat lest his rage bubble over. “Giorno has been a patron in my restaurant for well over a year now, and I am not nearly as blind or stupid as you appear to think of me. I may be a chef, but I am also very familiar with the practices of medicine and the healing processes of the human body.”

Sometimes Tonio loathed this skill of his. Of seeing the way people moved and being able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, of seeing the lethargy and careful movements and stiffness and knowing of the presence of bruises or cigarette burns or broken skin.

(In a bitterly comforting way, Giorno had always liked that part of him. Of their shared skill. He said it made him feel less alone and less strange)

Mr.Giovanna simply sneered at him. “And why exactly are you paying so much attention to little boys?”

His rage surged at the accusation, howling and throwing itself against the cage he’d locked it inside, only made worse by the man’s smugness as though he’d just won and Tonio would back down.

Oh how he longed for his butcher’s knives. They cut through skin and muscle like warm butter and would so easily make short work of the man before him.

“You know very well that is not what I’m talking about.” much to his dismay, his calm mask had begun to crack at the edges, his voice growing more tense and taught with every prolonged moment. This man was managing to slide through every crack of his carefully constructed walls in ways the most vile, loathsome mafioso couldn’t, and all with hardly more than a few words.

This needed to end soon. Before Tonio did something he would regret. For Giorno’s sake.

“I am not going to allow you to leave this establishment with this child unless you can offer me a reasonable explanation for why he comes here with bruises every single week, and that is final.”

A lie of course, he wasn’t letting Giorno go anywhere with this pathetic excuse of a father, no matter what excuses he scrounged up.

“Well I don’t owe you shit.” he snapped back, forgoing excuses and even denial of the accusations completely. At the very least, it seemed Tonio was getting under Mr.Giovanna’s skin just as badly. “I am going to be taking my son and we are going to leave. Giorno, come here right n-” but as the man tried to move Tonio out of the way and make a grab for the boy, Tonio grabbed his arm in an ironclad grip.

The man froze, surprised either by the strength or by the audacity.

Tonio’s expression didn’t falter.

“I think it would be best for you to leave, sir.”

For a second all was calm.

And in the next, pure fury overtook the man’s face.

The punch was quick and powerful, and Tonio barely had a moment to realize what was happening before he had both hands on the booth table to support his weight with a blooming pain in his jaw. With one of his hands he hesitantly brought it up to test the area, but while it would undoubtedly bruise and was rather tender, nothing felt broken or severely damaged.

Tonio should have seen the punch coming, but alas, hindsight is 20/20. He partially expected a second blow…. but it never came.

In fact, Mr.Giovanna was being awfully quiet.

His grin which had temporarily been chased from his face found itself sliding back into place once more.

It seemed the man finally noticed. Now that their conversation had reached a small pausing point, it was likely that much more obvious, but Tonio still couldn’t help but internally chuckle at the man’s horrendous observation skills.

It was dead silent in the restaurant.

The clicking of silverware, the murmur of conversation, the footsteps of the waitstaff, all of it had vanished into thin air.

And as Tonio stood back up to his full height, one merely needed to glance around the room to see why.

Every single customer and staff member was staring at them.

And not one was happy.

Expressions ranged from murderous fury to offended disgust to cold disapproval. Weapons of all types were in hand: knives, firearms, utensils, even a few Stands had joined the fray.

Sometimes being neutral felt like a curse, but in this moment? In this moment Tonio had never felt freer.

Because everyone respected the rules inside Trattoria Trussardi.

And those who didn’t……

“You’ve broken the rules, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, a grin still on his face. Only now he let the pleasantries fade away. Now, he let his grin stretch wide and manic, filled with teeth and not quite reaching his eyes.

To an outsider, it was downright predatory.

And Mr.Giovanna, finally realizing the lion’s den he had stumbled headfirst into, froze.

But Tonio did not care.

Not one bit.

He nudged the man to the side with the back of his hand, and didn’t even resist the urge to wipe it on his apron afterwards. He’d need to wash his hands later, wouldn’t want the food suffering from whatever filth that man possessed.

“Giorno,” he asked quietly, his body relaxing and growing soft at the bright, vibrant hope sparkling in the boy’s eyes. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Giorno’s eyes widened, growing glossy and shiny yet not a single tear spilt.

“I would.” he said in a hushed whisper, as though the words would break if he was too rough with them, and in Tonio’s heart the only regret he felt was that he hadn’t done this sooner.

He gently grabbed Giorno’s hand to tug him away from the booth seat with as much gentleness as he could, leading him toward the back door that led to the stairs up to his apartment. Giorno’s hand was so small, yet it clung to Tonio’s like a lifeline.

He would call Doppio later tonight to help with the paperwork, of course after Giorno had eaten and gone to sleep. He had more than enough spare funds for the shopping trip that would be required tomorrow, but it would also likely be best to ask if there was anything Giorno wanted from his now-ex-parents house. He’d likely have to rearrange some furniture upstairs, Giorno would need his own room obviously, maybe cash in a favor or two to help, and of course possibly transferring schools which meant even more paperwork-

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he got to look forward to a nice, calm dinner that for the first time since inviting Doppio in wouldn’t be alone.

And just as he nudged Giorno through the door…

“Marco.”

“Yeah Boss?”

Tonio liked Marco. A good head on his shoulders, a competent host and waiter, had potential for a manager position, always called in ahead of time if gang work interfered with his schedule, and on the rare occasion things got out of hand he was good at regaining order.

“I’m temporarily waiving the ‘no violence’ rule.” Tonio said. “Make sure nobody breaks anything important and if things get too noisy, see to it that it’s moved elsewhere.”

Marco’s eyes lit up with an emotion he didn’t dare to place, but his face remained stoic. “‘Course, Boss.”

Tonio looked back to the restaurant, his eyes soft and smile warm in a way that did not match the manic and horrifying implication of his words in the slightest.

“You have 30 minutes. Try to keep the mess to a minimum.”

The future looked bright and Tonio felt happy.

#G O D this was so fun to write. this au is so much fun sometimes <333 #neutral ground #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #golden wind #jjba part 5 #jjba tonio #tonio trussardi #jjba giorno #giorno giovanna #sb writes

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thetravelerwrites · 2 months

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Growing Pains (Centaur Dads)

Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Adoption, Gay Dads, Exophilia, Centaurs, Kids Series: Part 17 of Shelter Forest: The Towns Words: 2,068

When their son comes home from school upset, two centaurs must figure out how to have The Big Talk about what adoption means. Please reblog and leave feedback!

Rollie stalked through the front door with his head down and dropped his writing board by the hall tree. Without bothering to say anything to his fathers, he immediately went to his room, not quite slamming the door but certainly shutting it with more force than normal. Beyram, a Rahvan centaur, and Alphons, a Haflinger centaur, looked at each other in concern and made their way through the open layout of their cottage, knocking on their son’s door. Rollie was a bright, happy eight-year-old child, so for him to be silent and brooding was wildly out of character.

“Rollie?” Beyram asked. “Everything alright?”

Rollie didn’t answer.

“We’re coming in, alright, son?”

Again, Rollie said nothing, and his fathers eased the door open. Rollie sat on his bed with his arms crossed sullenly, a tear rolling down his face.

“Hey, buddy,” Alphons said gently, patting his back softly. Both centaurs folded their legs carefully and knelt next to the bed. “What’s going on? What’s got you so upset?”

“The kids at school make fun of me,” He said. “They said it’s weird that you both have four legs and that I only have two. They said it means that I’m not your real son.”

Alphons and Beyram looked at each other and winced. They knew that they’d have to have this conversation eventually, but they hadn’t known it would be so soon. Rollie had only just started going to the local school, and while he enjoyed it at first, he slowly seemed to become more introverted. Now they knew why.

“Listen, buddy,” Alphons said. “You are our real son. Just because we adopted you doesn’t mean you’re not our son.”

“Adopted?” Rollie asked, looking up in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Beyram began reluctantly. “Da and Pa can’t have babies like other families can–”

“Why not?” Rollie asked guilelessly.

“Oh, god, we don’t need to have this conversation too, do we?” Alphons said in an undertone. Beyram ignored the question.

“Since we can’t have babies the normal way, we decided to look as hard as we could for a child that we could love, and we found you and brought you home with us. That’s what adoption is. It doesn’t matter that we’re centaurs and you’re human, you’re still our son. You’re someone we picked out specially. We chose to love you and be your fathers.”

Rollie frowned, still looking confused. “I don’t understand.”

Alphons and Beyram looked at each other, at a loss for what to say.

“So… I am different from you? You’re not really my parents?”

“No, that’s not it at all!” Alphons insisted. “Of course you’re our son! You can’t ever doubt that! You’re our son and we love you!”

“Listen, son,” Beyram said. “Let’s take a trip tomorrow. We’ll show you what we mean. Alright?”

“A trip to where?”

“The place we found you. It’s called an orphanage. It’s where you became our son. Would you like to go see it?”

After a moment of contemplation, Rollie nodded. “Alright.”

The next day, Rollie sat on Alphons’s back and the three of them set off for Coleville, where there was an orphanage that was run by a lizardman named Cetzu and his human wife. It took about a week for them to get there since they traveled slowly and took frequent breaks. They wanted Rollie to have fun on the trip as much as he could, so they went camping and mushroom picking and frog hunting and lots of little activities that Rollie loved to do. He seemed in much better spirits during the journey.

They reached Coleville and went straight to the orphanage, where Cetzu was outside, sweeping the front steps. Alphons and Beyram had sent a letter to Cetzu in advance, so he had been expecting them.

“This is where you lived before we adopted you,” Beyram said as they came up to the building. “You were only a baby back then, so it’s no surprise you don’t remember.”

“I lived here?” Rollie asked. “Why?”

Alphons nudged Beyram, and he fell silent. As far as they were aware, Rollie had been left on the doorstep of the orphanage when he was only a few days old. Thankfully, the orphanage regularly paid mothers in the town to be wet nurses for the infants, otherwise Rollie would have starved. They weren’t sure how to break it to Rollie that he had been abandoned, and had carefully avoided answering direct questions. They knew they’d have to explain it at some point in the trip, but they were dreading that conversation.

“Welcome!” Cetzu said, rushing forward to shake hands with the centaurs as they arrived. Cetzu was quite tall, but the centaurs dwarfed him by a wide margin. “I’ve been waiting for you. My goodness, is this Rollie? He’s gotten so big!”

Rollie wasn’t normally shy with strangers, but the nature of the trip had caused a bit of trepidation in him, and he hid a little behind Beyram’s foreleg.

“Hi,” He said in a small voice.

“Hello, there,” Cetzu said brightly. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember me, you were barely a year when you left us.”

“Da and Pa said I lived here when I was a baby,” Rollie said.

“That’s right,” Cetzu said. “My wife and I looked after you until your fathers came to get you. Would you like to come in and meet the other kids?”

Rollie nodded and stepped forward toward the garden where about ten other children were playing. He only needed a small amount of encouragement before he was darting around with them, playing chase.

“We really need your help, Cetzu,” Alphons said a little desperately. “We’ve been hedging the question, but we can’t avoid it forever. How are we supposed to explain that he was abandoned?”

“Well, we don’t know that he was abandoned, necessarily,” Cetzu said. “It’s entirely possible that his parents died or met with an unfortunate fate. It does happen.”

“You know what I mean, though,” Alphons insisted. “He keeps asking why. We don’t know how to explain it to him without hurting him.”

“Well…” Cetzu said sadly. “There may be no avoiding a little bit of upset, I’m afraid. But your job as his parents is to reassure him that he’s loved. Regardless of why his birth parents gave him up, you chose him and you love him. Just make sure he knows that. That’s really the most important thing.”

“Yes…” Beyram said, watching his son play and laugh.

“Maybe ask the other kids to help you,” Cetzu suggested. “You’d be surprised how well kids grasp these concepts, regardless of their age. They’re all dying to get adopted. If Rollie hears how excited the kids are to find their own parents, he may understand how special it is to be chosen.”

“That’s a good idea,” Alphons. “It’s is alright to talk to the children?”

“Of course,” Cetzu said, stepping aside and waving to the children. “Go right ahead, I’m sure they’d be happy to.”

Beyram and Alphons stepped into the garden fence. The kids stopped their game and gathered around the centaurs, their faces curious. It wasn’t surprising: centaurs were unusual here on this continent. Beyram and Alphons only knew of two or three others in the region, and they very rarely crossed paths with them.

“Circle time, kids!” Cetzu said, motioning for them to sit. “Leave room for our new friends.”

The kids circled up and sat expectantly. Cetzu sat with them and instructed Beyram, Alphons, and Rollie to sit alongside them.

“So,” Cetzu said. “Our new friend Rollie just found out he is adopted. What do you all think about that?”

Every one of the children raised their hands.

“Coby?” Cetzu said, pointing at a young boy of perhaps seven.

“I think it’s great!” Coby said. “I can’t wait to get adopted!”

“Why?” Rollie asked him.

“Because I want to have a family, like all my friends from town. I want to have parents and siblings who love me.”

“How do you know they’ll love you?”

“Why would they adopt me if they didn’t want to love me?” Coby asked, his head tilted.

Rollie looked introspective. “How come you don’t have parents? What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” Coby said matter-of-factly. “They just didn’t want me.”

“Why?”

“Rollie, that’s rude,” Beyram said in an undertone, but Cetzu shook his head.

“It’s alright,” Cetzu said, turning back to Coby. “Do you want to answer that question?”

Coby shrugged. “I don’t know why they didn’t want me,” Coby said. “But that’s not my fault. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m great.”

The other kids laughed, and Rollie cracked a smile. He still seemed a little confused, but he kept asking the others questions. The others had similar things to say, that they were abandoned or that their parents died or couldn’t take care of them for whatever reason. Beyram and Alphons weren’t sure if Rollie really understood, but they were happy he seemed engaged in the conversation.

Rollie asked them if they really wanted to be adopted, and they all said yes. When asked why, the answer was the same: They wanted what every other kid in town had. They wanted a family. They wanted to be loved.

Rollie asked the other kids questions for hours, until the sun began to set. Cetzu invited the family to have dinner there, and they accepted. After dinner, Beyram and Alphons left a large donation to the orphanage and left for the local inn. It had a stable room that was rented out to four legged folks, and Beyram booked it.

As they were settling down for the evening and laying out Rollie’s bedroll, Alphons asked, “Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” Rollie said, getting under the blanket.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He said, looking up at his fathers, who were kneeling next to him. “I get it now. I’m special. That’s why you chose me, right?”

Beyram smiled. “That’s right. You see,” He said, scratching his neck. “When Da and I got married and began living together, we always knew we wanted to have children, but we knew we couldn’t go about it the normal way. We always knew we needed to go about it differently than other families, so we knew we were going to adopt. It took us time to get the house set up the way we wanted and get everything prepared, but as soon as we did, we started looking for our baby.”

Alphons nodded. “It was a while and a lot of trial and error, and we were worried we may not find the right one, but then we saw you, and it just clicked. We realized you were our child, and you always had been. It just took us a while to find you.”

Rollie looked pensive. “What happened to my other parents?”

Alphons sighed, apprehensive. “We don’t know, son. All we know is that Mr. Cetzu and his wife found you outside on the doorstep. There could be any reason why, but we don’t really know.”

“Hmm…” Rollie hummed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Rollie said, standing up out of his bed and throwing his arms around Alphons’s neck for a hug, and then did the same to Beyram. “You’re my parents now. And you love me, right?”

“Of course,” Alphons said, ruffling Rollie’s hair. “We love you very, very much.”

“Absolutely,” Beyram said. “We’ve loved you since the day we laid eyes on you, and we always will. You’re our son.”

“Then it’s fine,” Rollie said, getting back into his bedroll. “Goodnight, Da. Goodnight, Pa.”

“Goodnight, son,” Beyram said.

“Goodnight, buddy,” Alphons replied.

Rollie wanted to stay another few days before returning, so it was almost another two weeks before they made it back home. Beyram and Alphons were both worried that Rollie wouldn’t want to return to school, but contrary to their expectations, he wanted to return right away.

When he returned home from school the first day back, he gave his fathers a hug around the middle and sat at his little table for a snack.

“How was school, son?” Beyram asked. “Did the kids pick on you again?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t care,” He said nonchalantly. “They didn’t get chosen, so they don’t know anything.”

Beyram and Alphons smiled, kissed the top of Rollie’s head, and gave him his apple slices.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Adoption #Gay Dads

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krislin · 3 months

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Monster Sides

A Sanders Sides Monster AU fic

Summary:

In a dark forest, some distance away from the capital, but right outside a small village, lived six individuals.

These six were seen as cursed, as monsters.

But those in the forest saw them as a part of nature, maybe even guardians.

These six were a close family, living together and helping each other.

Word Count: 4590

The land of the large kingdom was extraordinary. The meadows were a beautiful green, the skies a bright blue, and the weather was usually at its best. Gentle winds blew over. The grass and leaves dancing softly alongside it. The forests around in the kingdom were a significant source of materials for the city, towns, and villages. All from herbs, to food, and to wood could be gathered in these gatherings of flora.

But there was one forest in the kingdom that none dared to even approach.

Next to a small village, a fair distance away from the capital of the kingdom, was a large, gloomy forest. Objectively, one would say it looked no different from any other forests in the territory of the kingdom, but for the people, it was a cursed and dangerous place.

After centuries of living next to that forest, people had come to learn to never step inside, or even close to it. It didn't even take long after the village was first established that they found out something dangerous resided in the darkness between the large, old trees.

Or not just something.

Deep in the forest stood a large and old, almost run-down, mansion. But no human lived inside.

Or preferably said, no full human.

All the creatures belonging to the forest knew who they were, and what they were. But they all lived in harmony.

Because in the mansion lived six men. All hybrids that made them only half human.

Many would see them as monsters, but the fauna saw them as much of a part of nature as themselves. Maybe even more. The nature of the forest would sometimes even call them the guardians of their home.

Outside the mansion laid a small lake. Next to the lake was one of the six. The man had bright brown hair and round gray glasses on his face. As a silhouette, he would have the appearance of a normal human, but in the light, one would immediately take their words back. His skin was a slight shade of green, and clearly looking moist. The man smiled brightly as he skipped alongside the lake side. His leaps were longer and higher than possible for the normal human.

Because this is Patton. The frog hybrid of the mansion.

Patton continued to hum and skip his way back towards the mansion. His beams were as bright as he was known for every time he saw an animal or a pretty plant close by. Even if he knew their domain well, it always made his day to see the forest in such a pretty state.

The sound of a hysterical cackle came from the trees next to him, but it didn't alert the man. Patton only smiled widely as he stopped to turn in the direction. "Remus! Back already?" he beamed as he waved towards the rustling bushes closing in.

Through the bushes stretched a dark green tentacles, placing itself on the ground to drag its core forwards. "Heya, Croakie!" the man, Remus, grinned when through the plants. The man had the upper body of a human with dark brown hair with a silver highlight on his bangs. But his lower body was of just dark green tentacles with black dots on the top.

This is Remus. The octopus hybrid of the mansion.

"You should have seen those brats!" Remus told, laughing hysterically as he dragged his tentacles to approach the other. "They had the audacity to make a dare to approach our territory! But that just made the day so much better!" he laughed, as he held his right arm to the side. He held his hand open, and suddenly green sparkles sparkled over his palm, and his morning star fell into his hold. "It's been far too long since I got to play with the humans!"

"Now, now, kiddo. I know they're humans, but don't be too harsh on them. Especially if they were kids," Patton softly scolded the other. But even with his hands on his hips, there was still a slight amused smile on his face. Patton may ever be the optimist, friendly, and peaceful one, but even he had the disliking to the human species.

Snickers filled the air around them as Remus explained the humorous scene to Patton. They had never hurt any humans, unless necessary. They only wanted the selfish species to stay away from their territory and those residing in it; them, the animals, and all the plants.

The sound of wing beats reached them through the silent air, making the two turn to see the third of the six flying in for a landing. Patton beamed seeing the man, jumping high in joy as he landed. "Logan!" he beamed, leaping to immediately stand next to him. "Everyone's back early! This is great!"

This one is Logan. The owl hybrid of the mansion.

"Indeed," Logan answered, a tiny smile of joy visible. He tucked his dark brown feathered wings into his back, then turned to the octopus hybrid. "It would seem your scare has given us the boost for a peaceful day today."

"Of course!" Remus beamed at the praise hidden behind the sentence. A hand was proudly placed to his chest, his weapon disappearing with a green light. "But as much as I wished to play with them more, Hoarder and I have something to finish."

Logan's black hair blew to the passing wind as he narrowed his eyes at the other. "If this is that creation competition you are talking about, I do hope you tend to mend what you break and make sure he doesn't hoard more than he already has."

"Hey!" an offended yell came from the mansion. They all turned, and they all saw a man with red hair and red dragon wings and tail come flying over. "I am only keeping the necessary things in life in our home. Thank you very much!" The man landed down by the group, but he was mostly throwing Remus a glare, which earned a grin back.

This man is Roman. The dragon hybrid of the mansion.

A deep sigh left Logan, and Roman turned to the owl hybrid to see the man shaking his head. "The pile of unnecessary equipment and object in your hoarding room says otherwise, I believe." Logan turned his eyes to look at the dragon hybrid through his black glasses. The talons of his hand were raised to adjust the glasses properly back on his nose again. "But as long as it doesn't pile up outside that room, do as you please."

"Great!" Roman beamed, but shook his head and coughed into his fist of clawed hand. "I mean-. Like it will ever overfill. There's so much room left inside! I can still fly inside, you know!"

"Now, now, do not lie," another man's voice came from behind, a slight hiss in his speech. Everyone turned around to see a man with a bright yellow snake lower body slithering towards them from the mansion. The man's snake tongue flicked out, but looking rather amused as he slithered closer. The left side of his face had greenish-yellow scales which almost gleamed in the light, and on top of his brown hair laid a black fedora with a yellow ribbon around the base. "You know lying to us won't do."

This is Janus. The snake hybrid of the mansion.

Roman rolled his eyes at the fifth man of the group as he stopped by them. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Slithering Scales," the man scoffed out, but gave out a small smile as he nudged the yellow snake hybrid with his elbow. But a small scoff them came from him, and his red eyes glanced between Janus and Patton. "But you two alright to be out? Winter's approaching, you know."

"Ever the overprotective hoarder you are," Janus commented as he rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile as he shook his head. "We are fine. The season is yet to properly begin. We cold-bloods have survived multiple winter already, you know."

"Yeah!" Patton beamed, leaping around them all. "Your fire and my strange, dark son's clothes and blankets really help!"

Roman gave out a pleased smile at the response, but he did give out a pout at Janus's comment. As part dragon, of course he would be protective of his hoard. And his main, and most precious, treasure he had in said hoard was his family. "Great to hear, Padre," he smiled at Patton, but turned to glance back at the mansion. "Speaking of him, where is he?"

"He was resting in his web the last time I saw him," Janus shrugged as he answered the other. "I had him rest after creating a bit too much silk for his crocheting and knitting later. He doesn't eat enough for the silk production he's doing."

"My poor kiddo!" Patton immediately spoke out in horror and concern. The man made a giant leap towards the mansion, but the sound of skittering had him stop.

Everyone glanced up the walls of the mansion. And out one of the top windows, something came out. "Hey, Snake Face, I have control of my own health, you know," the last of those calling the mansion their home said. The man had black hair and a black hoodie on, but his lower body was of a large spider body. Though his upper body wasn't fully human. The man had eight eyes, six fully purple and the last two human brown, and on each side of his mouth he had the fangs of a spider, which moved slightly as he spoke. And his lower body, his spider body, was large enough for someone to actually sit on his back, but mostly having to curl into themselves to not get hit by the eight legs as the man crawled around.

This is Virgil. The spider hybrid of the mansion.

Virgil crawled down the wall of the mansion, his spider legs letting him walk on any surface without troubles. He crawled down to step down on the grass, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at the snake hybrid. "And for your information, I had just stopped when you slithered in. I was just about to start crocheting, but you just had to barge in."

"Whatever you say, Spiderling," Janus responded, rolling his eyes, but throwing him a smile. "Just make sure to rest. You work too much when winter approaches. You're cold-blooded as well, so you need your rest, especially with the stress of the season."

A scoff left the spider hybrid, but he shook his head and let his arms fall down, his black clawed fingers having a few short silk threads dangling down and dancing to the breeze. "I'm the one making clothes and blankets, you know. So for now, I'm the warmest cold-blooded here."

The chirp of birds came as two magpies came flying down, landing on the back of the spider hybrid. The birds chirped happily up at them all, and they all smiled and greeted back with a nod. Virgil gave the two a smile, and he moved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Getting something out of the pocket, Virgil got out a small crochet blanket of his silk, handing it over to the two small birds.

"Here you go," Virgil spoke, smiling as he handed the birds the small blanket. "Stay safe and warm in your nest now. The cold's approaching soon." The magpies gave him joyful and thankful chirps, and the two grabbed the silk blanket and flew off into the forest. Virgil smiled as he watched them fly off, but turned to glance at the others again, also taking notice of the skies above turning dark. "Well, evening's coming, so I better get to my route while handing out what I got."

"Alright, stay safe, kiddo!" Patton beamed at the other, beaming brightly as Virgil went to crawl past them. "Let us know if you need anything, alright?"

"Of course, Popstar," Virgil responded, giving a salute over his shoulder as he headed for the trees behind. Suddenly the man stopped and turned around to face them again. "Oh, and I repaired all the stuff with holes in them," he informed them all, earning beams of delight in return. "That includes the plushies. They're all on my web, so get them whenever."

Cheers erupted from Patton, Remus, and Roman, while Janus and Logan smiled with a nod of appreciation. "You're awesome, Virge!" Roman beamed, eyes visibly sparkling with joy before he spun around to bolt into the mansion to fetch what Virgil had repaired for him.

Patton was not far behind the flying dragon, Remus quick to follow as well. Janus and Logan was left, chuckling alongside Virgil as they watched the others charge in with such energy. "Thank you, Virgil. It is much appreciated," Logan said with a smile at the spider. "But stay safe out. Remus most definitely has scared the humans away for today, but one never know when it comes to that species."

"Yes, yes, I know," Virgil answered, rolling his eyes. "No need to say that every time. I can take care of myself. My poison is paralyzing for a reason."

"Yes, Remus had you show so too many times," Janus agreed, snorting at the memories of the octopus hybrid constantly having Virgil paralyze some of his detached tentacles after regenerating new ones for fun. "Just make sure you don't freeze. The colder you get, the slower you get. And that means the longer in the cold you will be."

Virgil huffed in response, but gave no other answer as he turned to leave the place. Janus and Logan watched as the spider left into the forest, and the two turned to head into the mansion themselves.

*************

Virgil silently hummed to himself as he crawled between trees and bushes. Each step his eight legs took made a tiny sound in the grass and leaves, and with the speed of his steps, his crawling always sounded like skittering. And many in the forest recognized that skittering.

Birds, squirrels, deer, and all the animals of the forest would glance up and approach him during his routes through their home. Virgil greeted them all with a small smile, and many animals came either leaping, running, or flying over. The day was turning dark, a time where most would go to lie down for the day, but seeing the hybrid being close, they'd always come over to greet him.

"Hey, guys," Virgil softly greeted. All the animals joyfully greeted back, and a soft chuckle left the hybrid as bunnies, squirrels, and birds came to rest on his spider back. "Hope you're all doing well. But since winter is approaching, I came to give you all new blankets."

The spider put his hands into his pocket, and out came a roll of blankets of his silk. All of the animals grew visibly joyful, and Virgil smiled, pleased to see them like it. He handed out blankets, one by one to the animals around him. All the deer got the larger blankets over them, the birds got the smallest to carry to their nests, and the squirrels and bunnies got the perfect size for them, or larger ones if Virgil knew they had a family. All the other animals with them got their blankets as well, and Virgil was happy as to how tight he rolled the blankets, seeing that it was good that he brought as many as he could.

Virgil lifted the last blanket in his hold to hand to another pair of birds, but the sudden harsh gust of a wind had it fly out of their hold. The birds chirped in dismay as the silk was blown away from them, and they watched it quickly disappear into the darkness with a distressed look.

"Oh, crap..." the spider muttered, seeing the blanket fly between all the trees and much farther away through his night vision. "That was my last one too..." The birds' chirps was low and short, both lowering down to the ground in sadness. "Hey, hey, it's alright," Virgil assured them, gently holding down his hands to them. Both birds glanced up at him, but jumped onto his palms for him to lift them up. Virgil held them up and guided them to his left front leg, letting them jump on to rest right by him. "Don't worry, I can quickly make a new one. It's all fine."

Questioning chirps came from the two, and Virgil gave a soft chuckle as he shook his head. He quickly reassured them once again, and he raised a clawed finger to his mouth and stretched out multiple silk threads, enough to make a thick enough thread to use.

"Won't take long. Don't worry," Virgil mumbled as he moved the thread to his left pointy finger, using his right one to drag out more silk from his mouth. Unlike normal spiders, Virgil created silk from his mouth, usually using his fangs to hold the thread still as he used his clawed fingers to crochet, knitt, or sew with. And his clawed fingers were able to make a small hook at the tip, which was what made him able to crochet, but for knitting and sewing, and outside all that, he usually kept his claws straight and pointy.

Virgil laid on the ground as he started. His legs, except the one the birds sat on, halfway tucked under his body to lie comfortably. Most of the animals had left to sleep for the approaching night, but some continued to stay around the spider, curled in their blanket as they peacefully watched the hybrid crochet another of his blankets.

The birds happily chirped as they watched him masterfully create their blanket, and Virgil smiled as he glanced to the side at them.

Unusual gusts of winds came to their hearing, and they glanced up at the dark night sky to see something red come flying over them. "Ah, there you are, Spider Nightful!" Roman was to speak as he beamed seeing them under him. The dragon flapped his wings to slowly lower down to the ground, careful of the trees' branches. But as he landed his feet down on the ground, he raised an eyebrow at the glare Virgil was throwing at him. "What?"

"Mind your wings, Flame Head. I'm crocheting here, and your gusts are not helping," Virgil scoffed, but returned to his crocheting, being close to finishing the small silk blanket for the two waiting birds.

"And why are you out here, working more in the middle of the cold night after not having had your meal after your last production?" Roman challenged the other, a protective glare thrown at him through narrowed eyes. "I am certain you have not eaten anything protein filled since you left. You know you'll grow weak if you're lacking that, Virgil! You can't go producing more silk without refilling yourself!"

Another scoff left the spider, and he finished off his blanket as he sent the other a glare. "Geez, never took you to be one to sound like Logan," he commented, but averted his gaze to give the blanket to the thankful birds. The birds gave thankful chirps and took off with their new blanket, and Virgil gave them a small smile before turning it into a sigh as he turned back to the dragon. "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to stay in the mansion to keep up the fire for the others?"

"Logan can hold the fire up long enough until I return," Roman answered with a shrug, but stepped forwards to give Virgil a push in the direction of their home. "You're much later than normal, and you need my fire just as much as them! So off we go now, Night Crawl!"

"Alright, alright, Ro! Geez!" Virgil yelled, but sighed as he shook his head. "I know you're a hoarder, but keep it down, could you? You know I can defend myself if something would suddenly come."

"Whatever you say, V," was all Roman responded before grabbing the spider's wrist to drag him along with him. Virgil groaned as he was dragged by Roman, who power-walked through the forest. The dragon hybrid was dedicated on bringing the spider with him back home before the air grew too cold for the cold-blooded. Roman threw the other a glare after hearing the annoyed groan. "You have no right to do that, Emo Nightmare. Only one hoodie isn't good enough! You don't even have any of your blankets on you! What you have on isn't enough to keep you warm, and you know that!" Roman scolded, only receiving an annoyed deadpan in return, which he ignored as he faced forward again, all out on getting home. "This is why you need my fire!"

A snort came from the other, but he didn't speak out. He knew Roman was in his protective hoarder mode because of his longer than usual absence. And because of that, he knew it was futile to fight against it. He never fought against it, only showing his annoyance or teasing the other, whichever fit the situation best.

It wasn't long until they came to the treeline ending by their mansion. Stepping through the last bushes, they appeared in the back garden of their home. Faint light danced on the grass during the darkness of the night, so Roman strode towards the back door, still dragging the spider with him.

Roman swung the old wooden door open, stepping into the indoor light with Virgil right behind. The moment they stepped inside, Virgil felt the change in temperature, and a silent sigh of relief left him. The spider's shoulders slumped down at the warmth, not having to force an appearance anymore.

"Come," Roman spoke with a stern voice, but stepping through the room and towards the living room right by. Another sigh left Virgil, but the spider crawled after to follow into the warmer room.

Huddled together in some type of pile were the others. Janus and Patton laid in the middle, Remus using his tentacles to keep the large blanket over them in place, and Logan standing by the fire in the fireplace. Hearing the two return home, Patton beamed brightly, almost jumping out of his spot as he waved them over.

Roman smiled at the frog hybrid, but turned to give Virgil a brief nod to then take Logan's place by the fire. Logan gave the dragon a nod, and he stepped to join the pile of hybrids to help keep the warmth for the cold-blooded ones.

Virgil soon came to crawl over, and Remus lifted some of his tentacles, a part of the blanket while at it, so the spider could join in the middle, the spot for the cold ones. When tucking in his legs and lying down, Janus wrapped his long tail around him, but placing an arm on his back as support. With Virgil's body being a lot different, his back basically going ninety degree up from his spider body, he always only laid with his spider body, his human top having to hang or lean into something for support.

Remus stretched the blanket out to lie over the spider's back, but stretched a different tentacle to fetch another blanket to their side. With the new blanket, he wrapped it around Virgil's shoulder, having the spider now fully covered. Finished with his job, he continued to have his tentacles spread to keep the blanket over the three firmly in place, even if they were to move slightly.

But having nothing much but an arm to support his back, Virgil raised a finger to his mouth for his silk. He needed something to lean on, or his back would turn stiff again, and a single thread hanging from the ceiling would be enough for him. But as he went to do so, a growl from Roman had him stop to turn and raise an eyebrow.

"What did I just tell you earlier?" Roman questioned, eyes obviously narrowed with a warning look.

A huff left the spider, but he let his hand fall back down. A demanding look was shot back, and the dragon immediately went to drag over a cushioned stool for him.

When the furniture was in arm reach, Virgil immediately dragged it over and leaned onto it with crossed arms.

Seeing as everything was finally settled, a sigh of pleasure came from Patton, and he melted into the pile. With everyone back home, and Roman keeping a bright fire burning for them, everything was perfect. The group had always lived together and had this routine for the colder times. The more warm-blooded would always make sure the cold-blooded were all well in health, not growing cold or sick.

Remus, as an octopus hybrid, should also be a cold-blooded, but for some miracle, he was actually not. Maybe it was from his creation magic, like Roman's, or if it was his relation to the dragon hybrid, no one knew. They were just glad he wasn't cold-blooded as well. Knowing he would have been a difficult one to keep healthy as so. That man was always all around. All from being underwater in the lake, to climbing in the trees, to doing his job to scare off all the humans daring to step close to their territory. Keeping him constantly warm enough would be a pain for them all, so they were thankful for that miracle.

Logan got up from his place, his wings tucked behind his back, but Virgil could see the others had helped him groom by the time he had gotten back, or more like Roman dragged him back. "I will go and start on something for us all to eat," Logan stated, heading to the kitchen, leaving the group to continue to huddle together for warmth. "I will be right back."

"Alright! But call if you need help!" Patton called after the other, but cuddled closed to Janus as he hugged the silk blanket closer to them.

"He'll be fine like usual, Padre," Roman chuckled as he stepped over to take Logan's place by the frog. "He does fine in the kitchen. Though I do still prefer your meals, but the priority is to keep you warm."

A small chuckle left Patton, and the man croaked as he reached an arm up at the dragon. Roman smiled as he took it, and Patton dragged him down to lie with them. An amused laugh came from Roman, but he got himself comfortable by the pile, but making sure he had good view of the fire, being ready to strengthen it if it was to weaken for even a moment.

Everything was nice, cozy, and peaceful for them as another normal day passed by. The six men were as close as one could be without being blood-related, with the exception of Remus and Roman that is. And they would continue to be a close family of unique specimen, who stood out from everything else in the world.

The moon of the night sky shone beautifully down over the mansion as they all feasted and cuddled together for warmth and rest. This was all they ever needed, and it was all they ever wanted.

This is the hybrids' mansion. Their home.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #spider virgil #snake janus #octopus remus #dragon roman #owl logan #frog patton #fanfic #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp

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grogusmum · 1 year

Text

Seven Tears part 6

SELKIE!EZRA X F!READER

WORD COUNT: 2500ish

SERIES SUMMARY: Months after being abandoned, she does something rash and summons a selkie, who wishes to bring her comfort and maybe more.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Summer moves quickly on Roan Inish, Pearl and Cee grow close and the baby is born, but the fall brings the annulment at last, and with it there is retaliation and a choice is made.

WARNING: Olde Timey gender norms and sexism, though set in mid-20th century Ireland, and Ireland's predominantly white, Reader is physically undescribed, as are her blood relatives, her missing spouse, and his family are white, reader gives birth (not described), Cee in peril, ANGST, Colin and Jamie continue to be horrible people, Ezra is a selkie, yes, it deserves its own warning, excessive use of pet names, painful cliffhanger - its going to be okay, I promise! (as always see something say something. please let me know in my DMs if there is a warning I missed)

A/N: Welp, at 364 days since the last update- it hasn't been a literal year since the last chapter... After I finally got it down and started editing I realized why I had such a block. At least part of it anyway... This is a tough one. I understand why I kept diverting to writing side fics with sexytimes, new-fangled doodads, flashbacks of shenanigans, and so forth. While I was figuring out this chapter, and well into writing it, I spent most of the time saying to Ezra, can we just make breakfast and snuggle??? Of course, he's no help because he says yes let's. Like so many of my penultimate chapters, it's a cliffhanger and a painful one, and I am so very sorry. But I am not stopping and taking a break to do other fics. I will be writing part 7 this weekend.

Gaelic Translation (with a dash of history)

Móra dhuit ar maidin: good morning, is a twist on the traditional Dia dhuit ar maidin which means God (be) with you. Some believe this is where the infamous “Top of the Morning” Mor meaning big, Mora believed to be a “lost word”. However, it was discovered that in fact, this is one of the quite rare surviving pagan blessings. Mór was a significant goddess (note: attributes quite different to the Morrigan or Mór Ríon, even if sometimes mixed together) with many avatars. Of course, this all can be debated to the end of time, when one’s religion and language are made illegal so much is lost.

Gaeilge translation

A ghrá: love

Mo stór: Literally translating to “My treasure,” this phrase is often used to mean “my darling.”

Part 5

Series Masterlist

‘You would have to become a selkie yourself.’

Ezra stopped further conversation that night about it. “Today has been long and arduous, and not the hour for decisions of this magnitude, Moonbeam.” He had said, then unfairly distracted you as only he can.

Your time on the island was magical. You cleaned out the other cottages and your parents brought some basic furniture. The cottages were sparse but appointed with the necessaries to visit comfortably. The visits from your family and Tilda and Fergus were lovely. Because your relocation was for your safety and protection, no one knew beyond that circle. You knew you would miss your friends and cousins. But for now, you were distracted from missing them too badly because Cee came to visit, often. It was new to her, and she found it great fun. She would look at her human feet or hands and laugh with wonder, she would tell you later ‘wonder at their ridiculousness’. You noted fondly that she had a little bit of her father’s laugh.

The first time she came up out of the water you got to see the transformation firsthand. Her flippers felt for the seam under her snout, invisible to the eye. She then pulled it apart and a blonde teenager emerged.

Blonde. You looked at Ezra, flabbergasted. To which he said-

“There is a saying, my Pearl, all toads are frogs but not all frogs are indeed toads. Uncommon it may be, but one needs only look for the sea storm in her eyes to know.”

Cee came and went from the shoals, and Ezra reminded you not to worry, that as your belly rounded with every week that passed, he would be the worrier in the family.

Spending the morning fishing with your Da and Thomas, Ezra is gone when you wake. This is his way of thanking them as they usually have other supplies for you. Cee emerges from her bed which is curtained off in one corner of the great room, as you set out two bowls of porridge.

“Móra dhuit ar maidin (MOR-uhg(w)itch air MA-jin), Cee”

“Móra dhuit ar ma–” Cee yawns openly, “jin. Where is me Da?”

She, then, sniffs the oats hopefully.

“Fishing,” You tell her. “Why don' you cut some apples, dear.”

“With hooks and a line?” Cee chuffs as she sets to the task. You can not help joining her mirth.

You are with Cee on your own for the first time-

“You must have missed Ezr- your Da. I did not know I was keeping him from anyone- I would have encouraged him to visit. I am truly sorry, Cee.”

“‘tis the nature of things,” Cee says, mouth full of apples and oats, “besides if he were to slip back into his pelt and visit, he could not return to you for seven years. He has loved you a long time- everyone knows that!”

You are taken aback, you hardly register the sweet knowledge that she and others in his pod knew his love for you, thinking about the fact that if he goes in he can not return for seven years. Seeing her come and go, you assumed, with no small amount of relief, that bit was a myth, and you tell her so.

“Oh, I can come and go, because I am a natural-born selkie. Da was turned.”

“How was he turned?”

“Well,” Cee starts, “ehm, that is probably a story he ought tell you. Though he don' really like to tell that tale.”

By the time of Ezra return, Cee’s words were pushed out of your mind. For the pair of you had gathered seaweed and dug clams for luncheon, and you had felt your first real kick from the baby.

“Pearl! Come sit,” Ezra pulls you into the house. “You need to rest.”

Sitting you down by the fireplace, he settles on his knees, splaying a large warm hand on your lower belly, soft brown eyes on you, hoping to feel another kick.

“How does everyone?”

“Very well, Moonbeam,” Ezra absently runs his hand over the expanse of your middle, then drops his head on your lap. “Patrick had some supplies for us as well.”

“Any news?”

“Well…”

“What, a ghrá (uh GHRAH)?”

“Colin and his brother are still ragin’. Dierdre is making progress with the annulment, tis not sitting too well, it seems.”

“Pity sake”

“He deserves none," Ezra's eyes darken and you see his selkie nature for just a moment.

On the longest day, your water breaks at 4 a.m. The gift of midsummer's day is that daylight is already breaking, and Ezra can take the currach out right away and fetch your mam. The whole of the family comes back with Ezra and waits outside the cottage as Deirdre and Felicia help you bring young Rory into the world, with Ezra attached to your side.

When Rory's shoulder breaches its final barrier with your last mighty push, he slips like a seal into your mother’s waiting arms.

Ezra kisses your glistening brow and with a whoop, he runs to the window to shout to kin both seal and man-

“Tis a boy! With a shock of red hair from who knows where!” To which everyone whooped and laughed hardily.

“It’s midsummer! That’d be the faeries doing!” Hugh calls.

“Someone tell that boy to hush,” Deirdre says to no one in particular, shaking her head and crossing herself. She hands off the swaddled babe to Felicia, who brings him to you. Your Mam goes to the fireplace takes up an iron poker and draws talismans into the ash, muttering about faeries, calling St. Bridget to protect the home and all dwelling within.

You, Ezra, Rory, and Cee grow more in love with every passing day. There is nothing Cee enjoys more than when Rory is in his boat cradle, being lulled in the shallows tethered to a rope you hold fast to. During his fussy times, it is the only thing that calms him. She swims round and round it, bobbing up to check on him. Ezra barks his laugh at Cee’s antics and in the evenings he holds his son close, nosing his cheek and murmuring in the old way. And of course, any chance he gets, he brings you closer to him than many would find humanly possible. Nights are spent worshipful, in one another's arms. When the babe is wakeful, Ezra brings him to you, and when Rory is fed and dozing he silently takes him back to his cradle.

Summer rushes past as it has a habit of doing and autumn comes. Plans are set for this morning to go to the mainland to sign papers for your annulment.

“Tis finally here,” you sigh, kissing Ezra, the baby dressed and ready for a boat ride. “I’ll go to the church and get this settled at long last and meet you at the pub?”

“Agreed, mo stór (mu store)” Ezra says as he carries out a basket to the currach, he sets it in the boat and then helps you aboard, as you hold Rory.

The tide is with you as is the wind, so your trip is uneventful and swift. Ezra kisses your cheek and takes the baby for Tilda and Fergus to see and you head up to St Bridget’s to finally wash your hands of Colin. You smile as you walk the familiar cobbled road, excited butterflies in your belly. You remember to be watchful, knowing Colin and Jamie, this day is sure to stir up a hornet's nest. All is quiet, but you start to feel as though it is too quiet.

Ezra brings Rory into the pub, head up, bursting with fatherly pride, and Tilda comes round the board, hand on her heart. She takes up the baby as she gives Ezra a peck on the cheek.

“You may never get the wee one back,” Fergus laughs.

“Look how big you’ve gotten!” She coos.

“He is but a weed of a thing, growing faster-” No sooner does Ezra sit to catch up with his friends, does Hugh run into the bar, holding a stitch in his side. Ezra stands, his nostrils flaring as his eyes go dark, as if the barometer just fell and he could feel a dangerous storm brewing.

“I was- I was down at the docks-” he gasps trying to catch his breath. “Cee was there, knew it was the- the big day. But Colin-”

Ezra was on him, hands like vices on his shoulders.

“Ezra!” Tilda commands. He let go but the huff of his breathing bristles his mustache.

“What about Colin,” Ezra’s voice is like nothing they have ever heard. Rory fusses.

“He’s got Cee in a net, started dragging her out. Da -.”

Ezra bellows.

“Watch over Rory, Tilda. Hugh, does she know?”

“No, I came here first. Thomas has a boat- one with a motor-”

“Good lad,” Ezra breathes and storms from the pub, Hugh following behind.

At the dock, Ezra prowles up and down, until Thomas comes into view.

“Over there!”

Ezra looks at the small vessel with an outboard motor, mildly distrustful.

“Hugh stay at the dock and keep watch. We will get to the boa-”

“No. Go back to the island.”

“Wh-”

“I need my pelt.”

Cee twists and bites at the net, angry at herself for getting caught. Knowing this was to get to you and Ezra. Other seals surround her, trying to help.

She barks, nostrils flaring, pointing with her nose behind her. Two seals peel off and go in the direction she indicates, while one stays with Cee.

Soon enough two gray seals like torpedoes reach Ezra, flanking the port and starboard bows. Their heads come above the surface and one barks.

"Go on ahead to the island, in the hamper at the end of the big bed. Fast. Meet me back at this boat. Mind the propeller," Ezra shouts over the wind and motor.

The seals put out a burst of speed, porpoising in and out of the water.

"What are you going to do?"

"You have to tell her," Ezra's voice breaks, eyes rimmed red. "Tell her, I will return even if she can't bring herself to come to me. I will-"

"Ezra?"

"I promised," he wails, "I have never promised anyone anything- only she! But I can't let Cee-"

"She'll understand."

"I'm deserting her!"

"I will tell her."

"Is there anything to write with?"

Thomas rummages a bit and pulls from his pack, a small notebook with a pen tucked in its spine.

Ezra takes it and begins scribbling frantically.

Jamie’s boat speeds along, gulls scold them, and seals chase. Colin and Jamie jeer at them, determined to take their offense out on the young selkie. Heedless of the long-held taboo and the consequences that can befall entire villages, for harming a seal. Whether or not they know Cee was a selkie or a seal, they laughed in bad humor and wondered if one of them would make wife of her. They are both quite lucky Cee could not hear their base chatter.

After chewing at the net for some time, Cee finally breaks through the net, barking a laugh of triumph. When she slips free, she rolls and tumbles with her companion in celebration. When she has had her fill, she bobs in the water watching as the craft continues east. Cee barks at the other seal and sets after the boat at top speed. Only after she chews the netting that held her captive to shreds, does she make way to the mainland. But it is not long before she is faced with her mistake.

You arrive at the pub in good spirits, but your relaxed smile is wiped clean off at the sight of the faces within. Your face falls further seeing Tilda with Rory, and Ezra nowhere to be found.

"Where-"

For the second time today, Hugh bursts in like the devil is at his heels-

"C-cee-"

"Is she alright?" Tilda says standing.

"She is! She- she got away, but she's ragin' on the stand!"

The lot of you pour out of the pub. Fergus tosses out a lone customer and locks up behind. Hugh hastily explains what he knows, as your eyes become saucers. At the beach Cee is half out of her coat, as she is covered with the blanket that Tilda had the forethought to bring, she seethes-

"Da went after 'em. He didn’ know I broke free on me own until after he’d done it! He's angrier than I have ever seen!"

"Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?" Your eyes search her.

"He's not mad at that- well he is bu' he's fit to be tied because-" Cee's words pull up short, she looks like she might cry. "He thought- he- put on his pelt. I- I'm sorry."

You look as though you've been struck in the face, but you rub her shoulder absently hoping she knows you do not blame her.

"He's gone after the boat, he wi- he'll sink it," Cee finishes.

"Where's Thomas?" Asks Hugh.

"I'm here!" Thomas runs down the rocky steps, and hands you the note.

My shining Pearl,

I am loath to break my promise and beg your forgiveness.

Do I dare remind you that we spoke of you coming with me?

Though I admit that conversation was far from over.

Do I presume to ask for this gift?

Would you don a silken seal coat, mo ghrá?

Would you do this for me though I hardly deserve it?

Yours forever,

Ezra

When you finish reading, you find yourself turning a lost circle, pebbles shifting underfoot.

"I- he-" You look down at the note again, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"He didn't want to!" Thomas says, beside himself.

"Of course, he didn't," Dierdre soothes.

Trembling, you rush to Tilda grasping her hands. Blinded by the tears that refuse to fall, you don't see what everyone else can see plain, she knows your question and hates the answer.

"The Maiden and the Seal-lord! She- she was able to take her grandmother's pelt! You have one from yours, yes? Please yes!"

The waves crash, as though very ocean can not abide your tears.

"Darlin, my seal gran has too many greats in front of it to tell us, even if I could dig it up and give it to you," Tilda holds your panicked face in her worn hands. " Which I would, I most surely would. But it would not transform you- for no matter how close I hold you as kin, you must be a blood relation. Your way… if you wish it, it will be harder."

Your wail breaks her heart, gulls echo your cry.

You take Rory in your arms, the note crushed in your hand, and climb Widow’s Rock.

"Ez-ra!"

Deirdre sends everyone back to the house and carefully climbs the rock. She wraps her arms around you and Rory.

"For right or wrong, God forgive him. He will sink that boat and come back to you, even if he can't take off his coat."

You nod in response, eyes on the open water-

"I need to talk to Cee.”

Part 7

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

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#selkie ezra x reader #ezra (prospect au)#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #selkie #selkie ezra #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #selkie au

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