#Who is this very tall scrawny child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mintmatcha · 1 year

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cw: implied abuse (very slight)

You remember the first time you saw him, passing through the courtyard outside of your family room.

You could only see him from behind, the outline of scrawny shoulders and knobby knees silhouetted by morning light as he walked, but you could tell he was beautiful. It was in the way he carried himself, tall and proud, with a juant in his step like no worries weighed him down. The white of his hair was so surprisingly pure that you immediately thought of a star, a pure dot in the middle of inky chaos, so impossibly far and yet visible.

Three steps ahead of the boy were two older men that were once friends of your father, strong, burly folk that wouldn't explain their jobs to you when you asked.

"Do you see him?" Your mother pointed out the window with her wooden spoon, trailing the path of the boy like she's tracing a constellation.

"Who is it?" You were shushed as soon as you asked. She doesn't want them to hear, you realized. They mustn't be disturbed.

"That," Your mother whispered hurriedly, as if she's rushed in telling you, and you cannot tell if this news is good or bad, "is the most important man you will ever meet."

This tickled you. The guards dwarfed his child frame. He was a child, just like you.

"Well," you said, much too loudly, "He's not much of a man."

Your mother cracked her spoon against your knuckles. You didn't dare whimper at the pain, despite how it blossomed. She turned back to the stove, lips pursed.

"You'll understand under you're older. Gojo Satoru is special."

The second time you ever saw Gojo Satoru, it was three years later in the same patio. This time, he was alone.

He sat on the stairs to the main building, arms tucked over his knees and head buried in his lap. He was much taller now and his frame was more filled out, but he was still awkward and young, just like every other boy your age.

You knew you shouldn't bother him. You knew your mother would be cross if she found you bothering the boy, and yet you slunk out of bed anyway, padding across wood floors on bare feet. You knew the squeaky spots by heart, avoiding them on your tip toes-

and yet, somehow, he was turned to face you, as if he had seen you coming.

Just as you expected, he was beautiful. His round cheeks and wide eyes were almost picturesk, like someone up in heaven had been tasked to create the perfect boy and had crafted Gojo Saoru as the final product.

Even in the moonlight, his eyes were a shocking blue, cerulean like oceans you'd never seen, deep like gems you'd never hold. If you were clever, you'd come up with some poetic way to describe them, but mother always told you that you were simple, so the only thing you could think that was his eyes were simply blue.

Then, he opened his mouth.

"Why are you here?"

You sneered at his attitude. "I live here."

"No one lives here, it's just a meeting place." Gojo Satoru explained, like you were stupid.

"Well, I live here, so you're wrong." You kept your voice quiet. Your mother's window was just at the other edge of the courtyard, cracked so the night air could cool the room.

"I'm never wrong." The boy says so simply.

"We live here all year round and take care of the property."

He regarded you carefully, glancing up and down with a raised brow. "So you're just a maid."

That was the first time someone made you feel shame about the sentiment. Just a maid, said with a curled lip and downward spiraling tone, so sharp and degrading your cheeks immediately flushed with heat. Just a maid, as if nothing else about you mattered.

You twisted your night dress in your palms. Your voice became weak in your throat. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Well, you, Gojo Satoru, are just-" you struggled to come up with the words, tumbling through your vocabulary until you settled on a word you only learned weeks earlier- "a cunt."

The boy's jaw went slack with awe. You weren't even sure what cunt means, but when it first left your lips mother scrubbed your tongue with soap until the sink was foamy and pink.

Just as you had begun to regret it, an apology on your lips, he bounced up to his feet with wide, wide eyes. Instead of the anger you expected, you were greeted with a smile.

"You're the coolest girl I've ever met," he says, "Do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

"Do we have to kiss and stuff?" You didn't want to, but you thought about how his lips would feel against yours. Not very good, probably. Like paper.

It made your little chest ache anyway. Living in The House meant your experience with other children was more limited than you could realize as a child yourself. Gojo Satoru, the special boy you were told about, was more miraculous than the adults could ever know, simply because he was a boy you could touch.

"No, I don't think so," Gojo shrugged. You were both relieved and disappointed. At thirteen you were both enthralled by beautiful boys and terrified by them. "Probably just hold hands and hug."

"Okay then." You tried to shrug just as casually.

"Cool." Gojo pointed between you, back and forth, "Boyfriend Girlfriend."

"Boyfriend Girlfriend," you agreed. When you both fall silent, it was no longer natural. You were both strangers, yet more. You wondered if normal middle schoolers felt like this, or if this was just something that happened with Gojo Satoru, the special boy.

"But we can still kiss if you want to." Gojo held a hand out. You swore it was wet with sweat, even in the crisp night air. Gross, yet intriguing.

"I don't." You took his hand in yours. It was smaller than you expected, lithe and knobby in the fingers. You almost laughed when you remembered your mom describe him as a man.

"You probably have a bad tongue."

"Why would my tongue matter?" Gojo gagged. His hand was limp in yours. "Kissing is lips."

"Haven't you watched TV? Adults use tongue too."

He gapes again. "No way."

"Yes way."

For someone so special, talking to him certainly felt like talking everyone else. You started to wonder if your mother was wrong and he was just some dumb kid too.

"I'm never wrong."

"You're always wrong!" You let your voice get too loud. Somewhere, deeper in the hallways than you could see, a door slammed open and you both scrambled away wordlessly, scuttling off in your own directions. Somehow you managed to get back into your room without waking your mother, cuddling onto the mat next to hers with the palm of your hand still tingling with the memory of touch.

The next morning, Gojo Satoru and the chaos that followed him was gone.

The third time you saw him, it was three years later. It was only a glimpse through a doorframe as he passed. Gone were the features of a child, replaced by the sharpened jaw and wide shoulders of an almost man.

When he saw you, he laughed, no malice in his voice. By then, the shame of your station had set into your bones and you avoided his gaze like a Just-A-Maid should.

"Oi, how's my girlfriend?" His voice wasn't familiar anymore. Puberty had stolen its high pitch and replaced it with low, cracking baritone.

You didn't look up from the task at hand, polishing the wooden floors on your hands and knees, but you hoped he caught the edge of your smile and you hoped he found it alluring.

That night you dreamt of him, at least the him you imagined him to be. The rumors and stories of him had made it back to you, of course. For once your mother was right- he was special from birth, but he was also more. You knew he was regarded as rude and vulgar, a rulebreaker who hated the higher ups.

Hearing that had always made you smile. You always knew he was a cunt.

Most importantly, as you laid there, in a house that was only a sliver of his life, nothing more than forgettable minutes and meetings, vignettes of something much, much bigger, you wondered if Gojo Satoru, the most important man you'd ever met, thought about you too.

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ofsappho · 3 months

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THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani) Part III: Duncan

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

(Note: I invented some stuff/added some new terminology to make up for worldbuilding that didn't happen in canon. If you have questions just send me an ask!)

PART III: DUNCAN

Duncan did not consider himself an unnecessarily stubborn man. Though he was initially wary of including Lady Jessica’s young Bene Gesserit handmaiden in Paul’s combat training, a year had proven that Paul flourished with the addition of a sparring opponent who matched him in strength and size.

One, two, three. His pupils’ current sparring bout played out in front of him in the training room. The sound of each blow and each block echoed off the walls like a heartbeat. “Arms up, Paul.” Duncan cautioned.

At the reminder, the youth straightened up and his gangly arms, now starting to finally bulk out to Paul’s poorly-hidden satisfaction, came up to properly defend his head and torso. His black curls stuck to his forehead with sweat while a fierce expression furrowed his young brow.

That expression brought a fond smile to Duncan’s face. Paul’s father looked like that when he fought.

Since he had added full contact sparring to Paul’s training, Duncan was pleased to note that the boy continued to earn that privilege with his devotion to every lesson. His scrawny charge appeared early in the training room with eagerness written across his open face every day.

Of course, he still got into mischief and roped his companion into it frequently - that was just Paul’s way. His attitude had greatly improved since that final, fateful temper tantrum and since his lady mother enlisted that girl into her household.

At twelve, Paul had begun to settle into the features that Duncan imagined he would retain into adulthood. Though he could hardly match his tutor in stature or build now, he was growing like a weed. The boy would easily be as tall as him one day, if not taller.

He could still remember the squirming little bundle Leto had pressed into his arms mere hours after Paul’s birth. When the infant’s eyes had met his, he saw the same emerald green eyes of the Duke and his father before him. Duncan felt privileged to have been able to watch that baby grow into a capable, earnest boy.

Paul was, in a way, the son of his heart.

Even though he seemed to be growing into the very image of his father, Duncan could see himself in Paul too. When he was only a toddler, Paul did his very best to imitate the swordmaster’s mannerisms. That child had been so sincere that all who saw him couldn’t help but chuckle.

Now, Paul had grown to unconsciously mimic the way Duncan carried himself, the length of his stride, the way he gestured with his hands. There was no better legacy the warrior wished to leave behind than this youth, a true child of the three of them - Leto, Jessica, and Duncan.

He had taken to combat with the same ease his father had, at nearly the same age, the swordmaster thought as he watched with fondness and pride. Paul darted, quick as a hunter-seeker, past Chryse’s strikes only to counter with his own.

That his liege had entrusted Paul’s training to him was a great honor. The boy in front of him, fighting with a keenness much older than his age, could yet match his noble father in excellence. Whether or not Paul would exceed him remained to be seen.

One did not so easily clear the bar set by Leto Atreides. The Ginaz swordmaster remembered how at newly fifteen, coral disk in hand, he had been sent to join Duke Mintor Atreides’ household and accompany his son and heir, na-Duke Leto Atreides.

His lord had always been different. Leto had been a mere teenager when they first met, itching to prove his might against the Harkonnens in battle, yet he was wise and principled in a way that Duncan had never known.

Ginaz built master swordsmen and tacticians, not people. Not lords.

After their first spar, after the way Leto clasped his hand and pulled him up from the ground after the na-Duke had sent him sprawling, Duncan knew he would follow that man to the edge of the Imperium and beyond.

There might have been shame and failure in defeat at the hands of a different man. There was no shame in his heart when Leto raised him up, as there was no shame in bowing to the might of the wind.

Later that night, Leto had clasped their calloused hands together, and Duncan remembered thinking, he is half of my soul.

Even the Emperor knew of the then na-Duke Leto’s integrity and the effortless way he commanded respect and loyalty. Thufir Hawat, the most fearsome Mentat in the Imperium, had sworn his fealty to Leto as he had to Mintor and Paulos. The legendary bard-warrior, Gurney Halleck, was plucked out of the Harkonnen slave-pits by Leto and pledged his life to him in return.

The Duke earned every ounce of allegiance given to him.

From that first day on, the Ginaz swordmaster knew he would follow House Atreides until the end of his life. For what was glory, if not serving Leto and his family with all Duncan had? To give his life over to the keeper of his soul?

He would die for his lord without question. The Duke knew this and pressed a more difficult task upon the swordmaster - to live for him, should Leto die first, so that Duncan could protect Paul.

One, two, three. The two children danced around each other on the floor mats before Paul pushed Chryse back far enough that she could not reach him without an answering attack that would do real damage. She stopped for a moment, her gaze darting around the room to catalog everything like a Mentat, and waited for Paul to catch his breath.

“Again,” Duncan commanded, his voice harsher than it should be.

A sigh escaped him at the sight of her barely concealed flinch. He really shouldn’t have barked at her like that. Chryse had never done anything to Paul or Duke Leto. Her presence had lifted Paul’s spirits and challenged him to strive further by all accounts, including his own. The retainer watched the children fight a while longer before halting practice for the day. The two of them gathered cups of water and returned to the mat to stretch, Paul’s carefree chatter filling the room.

Duncan had only lived this long through trusting in his instincts. Around Bene Gesserit, his instincts told him that there was something terribly wrong with these women.

All that said, he and Jessica had come to a consensus many years ago over their shared lord and lover. She made Leto happy. When the woman presented his soulmate with a son and heir, the Duke had never been more pleased. Duncan would die to protect that happiness. He would never go so far as to call her a friend, but they were cordial with one another, and he served and protected her as was his duty.

Though it didn’t matter how cordial and respectful she was to the swordmaster or how many smiles she brought to Leto’s face, Duncan trusted any member of her order about as far as he could throw one.

Her little handmaiden unnerved him in the same way they did.

The day Chryse joined her household, Jessica had pulled him aside. He remembered being taken aback by the wild, desperate fear in her eyes. That smooth voice of hers had only the barest quiver when she informed him of the girl that the Imperial truthsayer delivered in-person to Caladan.

At her words, the swordmaster straightened up while one of his hands strayed to the long sword, sheathed at his belt. “Is she going to pose a threat?” He growled out. That truthsayer be damned. The whole Bene Gesserit be damned. He would protect Leto and Paul at any cost.

He counted the time she took to respond in heartbeats. With each beat that passed, ire set deeper into his bones, and he stepped closer to the lady to press for her answer.

Jessica looked away from Duncan to her pale hands as if examining the tendons that lay beneath the skin. In the moment before she answered, her imperious expression twisted into what looked like shame. Duncan blinked, and the guilt was gone so fast, he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“...No.”

Their gazes met. He trusted her to protect their family. Jessica knew that. While her trepidation alone was enough to mark this unknown girl as a threat in Duncan’s mind, he had faith that Jessica would never let anyone bring harm to House Atreides. To Leto.

Duncan perused her face, looking for any hint of a lie. She seemed truthful enough. “Alright.” He stepped back. That was hardly a satisfactory answer, but Duncan would let it lie as Jessica was indiscernible once more.

She neatly tucked her hands behind her back, out of his sight. “Her name is Chryse. She is to be my handmaiden when she grows older, but for now, I’d like her to accompany Paul to his sparring lessons with you.” Duncan knew Jessica well enough to know when she was giving a command, one framed diplomatically as a request.

The urge to refuse that command was strong, but he instantly understood what she meant under her poised words. Jessica would never jeopardize Paul and Leto by allowing a known threat into their house. This girl was an unknown. Should anything happen under his supervision, Jessica knew he would protect Paul. Duncan did not doubt that she’d arranged other minders for the little handmaiden when he wouldn’t be there.

He would obey his lady’s command, and the two of them would guard Paul against this unknown.

Chryse was quiet, quieter than any child of her age he’d ever known. They had met for the first time when a giddy Paul had dragged her behind him, both to show off his new companion and to seek Duncan’s approval.

She and Jessica shared the same placid countenance that all Bene Gesserit had, a countenance that unnerved him every time he experienced it. The ice in her face only melted when Paul looked to her to ensure her attention during one of his rambles about the latest filmbook he’d seen or when Paul asked her some sort of open-ended question with the bright curiosity of a young child.

When anyone set choices in front of her, the girl seemed overwhelmed and lost. Chryse shied away from decisions, and Paul seemed to enjoy earnestly guiding her through them, even if he hadn’t entirely realized he was doing so. Duncan was grateful Paul didn’t have an ounce of selfishness or ill-intent towards her, for her sake.

There was something wrong with her. The swordmaster was sure of it, and that surety set him on edge. Duncan had observed her during their first lesson - when Chryse fought, Duncan felt that combat was intrinsic to her and required no conscious effort on her part. As if she was constructed instead of raised.

Halleck’s beloved Orange Catholic Bible came to mind. Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a human mind.

Hunter-seekers were constructed for combat, too, though those machines had to be operated by someone else, somewhere else. He feared that someone, somewhere, was operating this girl.

Duncan Idaho knew that time was not an enemy, unlike what many other men thought. It was an ally. So he waited, and he watched.

Of course, Duncan had sparred with her himself before so much as letting her near Paul with a bokken. The girl-child didn’t only land one hit - she landed many. She left bruises. For a few moments during the fight, he almost stopped seeing her as a child in his care, not more than ten standard years old. Chryse was another enemy, another Harkonnen or Sardaukar, and Duncan Idaho couldn’t see past that until she was sprawled on the training mat beneath him, the tip of his bokken under her small jaw. One particularly forceful blow and he’d have broken her neck. The child hadn’t responded or whispered a word in protest. She merely continued to look up at Duncan with her large, guileless eyes, like a calf going to slaughter.

In the year since their first meeting, Chryse had managed to put his initial fears to rest. She had a very marked reluctance to physically injure Paul when the two of them sparred and would go out of her way to avoid doing so, even if that action put her at a disadvantage. It frustrated the boy to no end, but Duncan preferred it to the alternative. There were no threats or thwarted assassination attempts from her or anyone else. It seemed like the only people who held Chryse’s reins were them.

But Duncan was not completely heartless. The more time she spent with Paul, the less overwhelmed she seemed. Chryse’s movements were still uncanny, but he watched her slowly become more like a child and less like a weapon, like a winter melted into spring. The girl tended towards a rather endearing wide-eyed naïveté and innocent wonder.

The two of them had grown since their first meeting in directions that complimented the other. Paul wasn’t nearly as restless and dissatisfied as he had been. She grounded him and made him happy in a way the adults in his life simply couldn’t. The boy had continued to guide and nurture her, and Chryse had continued to trust in him enthusiastically. They reminded Duncan of the young vines Jessica tended to in the gardens, intrinsically and unconsciously intertwined as they reached for the sun.

Time was an ally. Duncan had time to continue watching her and ensure she wouldn’t grow into her potential as a threat. Paul had time to grow into his potential as a soldier, a warrior who could defend himself.

A servant appeared in the doorway. “Pardon me, Sir. Lady Jessica requests her handmaiden’s assistance in her presence-chamber.” He nodded his assent quickly and gestured for Chryse to follow after the attendant. The girl hesitated for a moment, seemingly ill at ease. Duncan didn’t miss her unease or the way she tamped down on it with force.

Paul had rounded on Duncan as soon as she’d left without a backward glance, endearingly chattering on about their lesson. “I think I did better today with the grappling? I’m trying-” For the moment, the swordmaster would put away his concerns, and he turned his attention to the boy in front of him.

Paul attempted to duck away from Duncan’s hand but failed to avoid a fond ruffle of his dark hair. “You did well, Paul.” The retainer didn’t give out empty praise - Duncan knew his honesty would benefit Paul the most. Chryse was unnervingly quick at picking up the forms and throws she learned, but Paul even now had a bright mind that could anticipate her moves in advance and adjust instantly to compensate. He had an innate control of every spar; there again, Duncan could see Leto in him.

“I’m proud of you.”

Paul stopped short at his words. He looked then like the small child Paul had been, a child who clung to Duncan’s every word and often looked for his approval and attention. Before he could respond, the tutor continued. “Listen to me. I know you know that one day, you must be Duke Atreides. To you, that seems far away and impossible right now.” Duncan could see Paul’s uncertainty whenever his future as the Duke was brought up as clear as day, for all of the boy’s feigned confidence and maturity.

The Dukedom was his by right of birth. But the potential and capability to be a great man, a great leader, a great Duke; that was all Paul. No great ancestor or accomplished relative could have given Paul that. While the boy didn’t have an inherently boastful or vain temperament, Paul lacked true confidence in spades. Without it, he would fail. “I have never lied to you, and I do not intend to start now. When that time comes, you will be deserving of it. I promise you.”

The boy grew somber at the weight behind Duncan’s words, and his green eyes stayed fixed on the man’s face.

The Harkonnens circled ever closer, their military might backed by the obscene riches they drained from Arrakis.

At the emperor’s command, Leto had been called before the Landsraad that week to negotiate a dispute between their quadrant and an adjacent quadrant.

The Great Houses under Leto’s jurisdiction as Warden of Centaurus Quadrant had risen against the Great Houses of Bode Quadrant. The skirmishes grew bloodier by the day. If House Atreides could not keep the peace, the emperor wouldn’t hesitate to strip them of the wardenship. Padishah Shaddam IV looked for every chance to undermine Leto.

The moment they finished in the training room, Duncan planned to head straight to the war chamber to coordinate the deployment of Atreides troops to the many planets under their dominion, under Leto’s orders. Ideally, they would halt the bloodshed entirely, but judging from the most recent intelligence from Hawat, protracted disputes were the more realistic outcome.

As sheltered as his childhood was, Paul had only known peace. Duncan did not doubt that peace would be in shorter supply when the boy reached the age of majority. Dukehood was his right, and Paul needed to know it. Belief in that right was all that stood between him and his possible destruction.

Paul straightened up under Duncan’s gaze. “Leading our House is your right, Paul. It is what you are owed. You need to own it.” Steel settled in the boy’s gaze, and Duncan grew pleased at the sight of it. Paul would take his words to heart.

When Paul responded, his voice seemed to echo off the walls with a gravity that far outstripped his age. “I understand.” There were still a million and one different ways the boy could falter, and hundreds of thousands of other factors that might end their House.

But the youth standing before him wore an expression of ancient understanding, some otherworldly wellspring of memory and experience. There was no reasonable explanation for how Paul had come to that understanding right here, right now, but it was so intrinsic that Duncan didn’t question it at the moment.

The moment between them passed, and the peculiar awareness that had taken over this twelve-year-old boy went with it. What in the Imperium had just happened?

As if nothing odd had occurred, Paul bowed as he always did at the end of sparring lessons. “May I be excused?” Duncan silently nodded and watched as Paul dashed from the room, no doubt in search of his mother or Gurney Halleck, or off to his room to put on another one of those filmbooks he liked so much.

The swordmaster had felt the same distinctive unease around Paul that he felt around Bene Gesserit. Duncan knew how to pick his battles, though, and the boy seemed fine and, most importantly, safe enough. Under Jessica’s careful eye, Paul was not likely to harm himself somehow with… whatever that was. It would suffice for now, and later Duncan would press Jessica into a conversation about what sort of alien mess her religious cult had undoubtedly dragged Paul into. While he didn’t have any proof those witches were involved, it seemed highly unlikely that they didn’t have anything to do with it.

If he needed to guard Paul against himself, he would do it. Right now, though, Duncan had a more pressing priority of holding the quadrant together so Leto could return from the Landsraad safely and in victory.

He could feel a headache building behind his eyes. With a resigned sigh, Duncan left the training room.

Ah yes the iconic queer dynamic of "lord and the knight who would die for him and the lord's lady)

Tagging: @redskull199987@itsemy01@blahzaiblahsheep@herebereblogs @spacenotwar @assorted-fandom-things @hogwartshouse @mylenne-16

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sezja · 4 months

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Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Ship: Raicheille Lhorulgois Triggers/Content warnings: Child abuse

Takes place one year after Silenced.

"Stand still," Mother snaps, swatting Raicheille's shoulder as though she's an insect in need of a good squishing. "And stop slouching, girl! You've no figure yet to speak of; we must pin all of our hopes on your face. Gods help us."

I inherited it from you, you old sow, she doesn't dare say, straightening her shoulders even further, stretching her spine until it creaks. Her new dress clings in uncomfortable places, telling earnest but unconvincing lies about the shape of her beneath it. As though anyone would believe it. Her betrothed-to-be will be a fellow wildwood, of course, and everyone knows elezen don't begin properly growing until their twentieth year, give or take.

At fifteen summers, she feels like a dodo pretending to be a chocobo.

"You will be gracious," Father says. His voice is cold, stern, as though she's one of his hired lances. "You will speak only when it is required of you, or you will suffer the consequences of your disobedience."

She fights the urge to shudder.

There's every reason the new dress covers her from the neck down, hiding the bruises and welts she's earned over the past year.

Nourval wouldn't let them do this to me.

"Do not bite your lip," Mother snaps again, seizing Raicheille's chin between cruel fingers, not quite hard enough to bruise. "Do not sulk at your father, you ungrateful trollop; were it not for your interference, none of this would be necessary! Your uncle had it all well in hand!"

"Yes- yes, Mother."

Had it all well in hand is, Rai thinks, a very diplomatic way to describe the attempted murder of an officer of the Twin Adder, in an effort to frame visiting Ala Mhigan diplomats for the crime - it'd been her interference, yes, that'd alerted Captain Smyth to the plot. But she'd only ever wanted her brother to be freed from prison; beyond that, she hadn't really cared what became of it all. Not really.

She hasn't seen Nourval since. Her last memory of her brother is of him lying half-dead in the tall grass, and Captain Smyth sending her dashing off for a healer.

He's alive, at least. She knows that much. If her parents would let him see her...

But no. They'd told the Adders charming lies, pleading their ignorance, pleading their innocence, and so Raicheille was returned to the loving arms of her parents. If only someone had thought to ask her what her parents might have known... but who ever cared what one scrawny girl knew?

Captain Sanson cared, she thinks, idly, fighting the urge to rub her throbbing jaw while her parents aren't looking.

Today is her chance at redemption, her parents have told her, endlessly, for the past week. Marriage is a time-honored contract, sealing alliances between the families of Gridania's oldest families - those who long for the old ways, before Gridania opened her gates to outsiders; before Ala Mhigo brought war to her doorstep and pushed Gridania to the brink. Before Vainchelon's death. Rai has known all her life that she'd be handed over into the keeping of some tradition-minded man or other...

But that was before she knew the truth about it all.

Now she wants to run screaming into the Shroud, hopefully to be eaten by some wild beast - better that than being married off to some other hateful bastard who who only wants to rekindle old wars.

The one they've picked for her is nearly thrice her age: a grizzled veteran of the Old Guard, known to have a firm hand with his servants. The Matron knows he's likely to see her as little better than a servant; she expects she'll be lucky to see the sun more than once a moon - she'll be kept under lock and key, seen but not heard, her value proven only in the production of sons to bear arms-

I'd rather just get eaten.

"Come, girl," Father says, snapping his fingers like she's one of his hunting hounds. Mother places an ungentle hand on her back, guiding her forward like a prisoner who can't be trusted to follow obediently.

It's more apt than it ought to be.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday4 #my writing #raicheille lhorulgois #THIS IS THE ONGOING STORYLINE #it's not as in-depth as last year's but follows rai trying to get the hell out of the situation her parents have put her in #(the boys will turn up soon)

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awesomeart-83 · 2 months

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Decapolice Ocs

Elle Yale

“Hey ya, guys! Welcome to my crime lab! Find clues, solve the mystery, but don’t mess up anything or you’ll be banned!”

Age: 23

A very pink-focused forensic scientist who is very popular among the police station. When she is a child and as she grew into a young woman, she was obsessed with science. While her parents didn’t agree with her career (more information later), they tried to give her the best education to pursue her dreams.

“Why is Harvard is so insufferable? His loud voice! His stupid personality! Don’t tell him this, but he better choose a different forensics scientist or else!”

While she gets along with most of the team, he despises Harvard with a passion, due to his smug attitude and Harvard….. thinks she is just a cute scientist who might have a crush on him and very good at hiding it. On the other hand, she has a crush on Carl, due to his sweet personality and his sense of justice. Carl, when he discover this, tries to not rush it and worries that it isn’t the right time, but still tries to flirt with her.

Appearance: She is a young woman with a two ponytails that are medium length and are stuck together with a scrunchies. She has some hair clips on her to kept her bangs.

Main tactic: Special attacks

Ultimate move: Perfect Cell Attack

Retsu Tohuko

Age: 25

“This corpse………. It must have really suffered a lot of hell. Like me. I can tell from its expression.

A weird mortician who the team mets throughout the game. He is a mortuarist who checks on the dead bodies. He is hated around the station due to his disturbing vibes and creepy appearance with only having one friend (Yale) but despite this he tries to be a nice person around with a very creepy hobby.

As a child and throughout adulthood, he has been through near death experiences, leaving him feeling isolated and making an outcast even with his family (but that’s for another day). As he grew up, he became obsessed with the cycle of life of death and studied death and how people died through ways. When he got into college, he went into forensics

“Everybody dies somebody, maybe even you, Marks. Whenever it is, we all have to be prepared because death always comes no matter what

He doesn’t join the team until much later in the game when the team are investigating the Clown and has him check out the bodies of the other victims which includes Harvard’s mom. When Harvard finds out about this and freaks out, he is able to calm him down and deduces that they are related. He then tells Harvard that whenever that goes down, he mustn’t kill the Clown or he’ll be kicked off his job.

Appearance: He is a scrawny and thin man who is quite tall, but not to pass as a giant. His hair is short black that looks like it has cut off recently and has blue eyes. He is always shown to wear a mask on his face, making people believed there was a horrific scar on his face. They’re…….. half-right with having a scar cover the left side of his face which he covers up with his mask and makeup.

Ultimate Move: Grim Checkup

George Cornwell

Age: 32

“With your brain and my knowledge, we are going to make a great team, I am sure of it!”

A criminologist who doesn’t work at the police station but runs into the gang many times throughout the story before getting wrapped up into the search for the Clown. He wants to talk to the Clown (not to a obsessive degree) and wants to understand why does he kill. He isn’t a part of the police but Granger and Maise let him in to talk to the team over the criminals they captured.

He is pretty wholesome and quite understanding to many people (sometimes criminals). When he discovers Harvard’s past after the game ends, he decides to take up the mantle of Harvard’s moral compass and gives him a therapist to help with hi: trauma. He shown to be protective to his loved ones, but not to point of overbearing.

“Hey, there’s been something in your chest for a little long time. You think that you keeping in it’s chest and refusing to let it out, but you’re wrong. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. But if you are not going talk about this to me and your team, you need to talk to somebody else.”

However his past is mysterious and he refuses to tell anyone not even his close friends about it. And it turns out he has a pretty good reason, but we’ll see later. He’ll explain it to Harvard near the end of the game

Ultimate move: Let me take a look in your mind.

Stanford Williams

Age: 24

“There’s a line between the ideal detective and the insane detective, and Harvard Marks you have crossed the line to insanity.”

He is a high ranking serious officer who is a deep rivalry against Harvard. He isn’t well liked due to his serious attitude towards most of the staff but he isn’t outright hated due to his contempence in the field. He has a hidden side to him, caring for his family and friends off the job and taking them to nice places to relax and have fun.

His father was a officer who WAS excellence in his job and WAS actually chosen to be the police chief instead of Granger. But, notice the emphasis on WAS. A few years (possibly in Stanford high school days), he was found dead in a murder similar to the Clown style. While it is now unknown if the Clown or a copycat of the Clown and the killer was never found, it still effected him and made wanted to hunt down other serial killers like them and bring them to justice so nobody would have to suffer what him and family did.

“The reason why we are looking for the Clown isn’t for revenge you fool, it’s for justice for those who were suffered in their hands!”

So you think with their history, him and Harvard would at least connect or be friends? WRONG. While Stanford views Harvard with great potential as a detective, he despises him for his willingness to break the rules in missions and cases and his wild insanity. While Harvard would have chosen a different career if his mother hadn’t died (unless the game discredits this), Stanford has wanted to be to become a detective ever since he was a child. With Harvard, he only met with him at police college for the 2 years he was in along with Carl and Stanford was at his last 2 years. Harvard found him annoying due to his overshadowing anybody in their class and overly aggressive attitude towards. (Funny thing is that one of the reasons why Stanford hates Harvard.) So when they both of them (and Carl) end up stuck in the same police station in the same city, none of them are pleased.

Ultimate Move: Sharps Slashes of Justice

So, here’s them all! What do you think of them? Which one is your favorite?

#decapolice #decapolice Oc #Oc #level 5 #my Ocs

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nowis-scales · 6 months

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Takumi Birthday Headcanons

December 14th means that it's time to make headcanons for the birthday boy! Hopefully you like them.

‣ Takumi is the first man of the royal family in a while that didn’t have Sumeragi’s stature. Many of the men have tended to take after their fathers, growing especially tall and imposing in build, but Takumi takes more after his mother, Ikona. When he was a younger teen, he was more embarrassed about it, feeling scrawny and unthreatening in comparison to his brother. However, over time Takumi has been able to take some pride in it — especially since rumour has it, he is credited as being the most handsome Hoshidan prince.

‣ Takumi is the one royal child who the public doesn’t have as much of a definitive opinion of. Ryoma is treated with high regard and admired, praised for encompassing everything that a proper Hoshidan king should be. Hinoka is a little more controversial, being an unusual princess, but ultimately her bravery and kindness have made her a role model to many young girls in Hoshido. Sakura is beloved amongst the people, known for her benevolence and gentle nature, the child that interacts most frequently with the common people. Takumi, on the other hand, is regarded as intelligent and… quiet. They hear about his talents, but because of his dislike of things like banquets and general feelings that people regard him as lower than his siblings, they don’t know what to make of him quite the same. He’s “mysterious” in this regard, which makes some people unhappy with him… but some even more endeared.

‣ Part of the reason why Takumi is so cautious and untrusting is because honestly, he overall has a low opinion of people. He struggles with the idea that people are inherently kind prior to the war, because time and time again the conflict with Nohr has proven humanity’s nastiness. Even the brutality that his own soldiers have to stoop to sometimes makes him doubt human goodness. However, over the course of Revelation where he got to know more about the people around him, he learned a lot more about people and their complexities. And while the people he met weren’t always kind or understanding, they were so much different than what he expected… and he learned there’s a lot more to people than just what he has to fear, prompting him to brighten up his opinion of people. I don’t think he would ever stop being cautious, but it strengthens his spirit to realize that people are better than he might assume.

‣ I’ve mentioned before that I think Takumi is gay, but I feel like if we’re going along with this headcanon, he was probably pretty in denial about his sexuality for a long time. For a long time, he kind of had the attitude of “well, if I don’t like girls then I’m just not interested in anybody”. At times he would feel things for men around him, but he usually chalked those up to a warrior’s or scholar’s connection more than anything. It wasn’t until he was much older, just before the war, that he was able to be honest with himself and admit the affection that he felt. He was a little scared to come out to his siblings just because being LGBT+ is not always as accepted in Hoshido, but they were all very supportive and vowed to protect him from anyone who wouldn’t be.

‣ Of all the royal siblings, Takumi has the best hair. It is long and flowing and gorgeous. It almost never tangles, it’s always got a lightweight feel to it, and it’s always silky smooth. He takes a lot of pride in maintaining his hair, too, making sure that it always has everything it needs to look right and that it always smells nice. His philosophy is that as a male royal, it’s tradition for him to have hair this long anyway, so he might as well spend the time it takes to make it look good.

‣ He’d never admit it upfront, but fighting the possessed corpses of the Vallites kinda freaked him out. As we learned in Boo Camp DLC, he doesn’t really like monsters or anything of the sort. He would prefer that they stay like… waaaaaay over there, thank you. As a result, facing off against the Vallites was pretty uncomfortable for him. He did his best to put on a brave face, especially because by then Sakura was in the company and he didn’t want to frighten her by being frightened him… but they are definitely something he would dream about, and definitely something he would avoid looking at where he could. Blegh. Something about them just makes him shiver.

‣ I feel like for the most part, I see Takumi as a jack of all trades. He needs to know a lot of different stuff, considering he’s the second prince, so he takes pride in putting effort into various subjects. However, if there is one thing that Takumi struggles with, it’s visual art. Ask him to draw or paint anything, and it’s just… overly simplistic and quite wonky. He’s an excellent dancer, he does okay at playing music, and his writing is pleasant enough to read — but his drawings are chicken scratch and half the time it’s hard to make out what it’s even supposed to be. It frustrates and embarrasses him to no end that he just can’t get it right, especially since others around him are so talented in the arts. Him, though? Not so much.

‣ Takumi was like, the world’s most mild-mannered baby. Sumeragi had a habit of bringing all of his kids to meetings at one time or another just because he liked having them around and wanted more time with them in a day — and who was going to say no to the king? If the children got too fussy, there would usually be a nursemaid on standby, but interestingly enough, Takumi rarely if ever needed his. In fact, unlike his siblings, he didn’t even need a toy or something to entertain himself. He’d be happy to just sit and watch the people, listen to them talk, note how they moved and reacted. People even tried to encourage him to play, but he just wasn’t interested. It was like he wanted to see the politics go down for himself or something. Sumeragi thought it was absolutely hilarious.

‣ Speaking of teeny Takumi, another headcanon I have about him is that he was probably speaking in full sentences by the time he was one years old. Constantly surrounded by nursemaids and older siblings, there was just so much language surrounding Takumi that he soaked it all up and started talking almost as soon as he could manage. The first word he ever said was “help” — not in a worrisome way, but just in a way that would let Hinoka know he was having trouble with his sandals and wanted her to figure it out for him. His first sentence, on the other hand, was something about one of his dolls… admittedly, it didn’t make sense exactly what he was trying to say, but the family was so excited with his newfound grasp on language that they didn’t really mind.

‣ Though he would never want it to be the case, if it were to happen, Takumi would make for a pretty good king. He’s cautious but kind, strong and intelligent, and he really cares about the people of Hoshido. It would feel pretty daunting, trying to fill Ryoma’s shoes, but I wholeheartedly think he would do a good job — and he likely works hard every day to do it just in case it is ever needed from him. Until then, though, he’ll support the kingdom however Ryoma and the rest of his family need him to.

#fire emblem fates #fe Takumi #Hoshido #fire emblem Takumi #fe14 #fire emblem fates spoilers #fire emblem fates revelation spoilers #fire emblem fates birthright #fire emblem fates conquest #fire emblem fates revelation #fire emblem #happy birthday takumi!!

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drchenquill · 2 months

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The soldier and the horseman~ part of chapter 2

We were not untrained in transporting people, but they were always dead. We, four men who faced death every day, now had to worry about the lives of four people. For the first time in my life, I almost laughed. "Humans…" whispered Sundew next to me, confused. His confusion was shared by all of us, but it was our mission, and we should treat it as such. The four humans stepped forward, followed by an armed man. I took a closer look at our goods. Two men, a woman and a… child. I tried not to change my expression. A tall man, scrawny with loose clothes. He wore a black mask that covered his mouth. Behind the thick red curls covering his neck were piercing dark eyes. The girl stood next to him. Eight years old. Long, almost platinum blonde hair tied in two ponytails. I recognized no fear in her watery blue eyes. She wore a pretty little pink dress with ruffles. She clung to the woman. Tall, slim, trembling slightly. Her short, bright blonde hair was tied in a half bun. She was wearing a large white sweater, which she played with the long sleeves as she scrutinized us. Underneath, she wore pants that reached to her knees and thick combat boots. My gaze wandered to the last man. Not very tall, a head shorter than me. A long black coat covered his body. I could only see an equally dark shirt. He wore black boots that reached over his ankles. His hair was hidden under a black hat. He had his head lowered, obscuring my view of his face. "Are you the transport?" asked the armed man behind them. "Yes." I replied briefly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the last man raise his head. Our eyes met. Poison green. His eyes were poison green. He looked into my dark eyes and my breath hitched briefly. He didn't break our eye contact and all the noises around us fell silent. "ID." The man with the gun, unknown to me, snapped me out of my trance. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. He repeated himself. "ID." I sighed. "Berserker, could you show our colleague our ID?" I heard Berserker laugh lightly as he approached the man. Without giving him time to react, he snatched his weapon from his hand and then held his dagger to his throat. "I hope it's readable." I heard him say. "I hope you now realize who you're dealing with," I warned him. He nodded hastily and Berserker withdrew. "The goods are yours." he said and the four people moved of their own accord, as if they had been told which van to get into. The man in the mask walked past bobcat who was grinning the entire time, and climbed into the back seat of the van. The woman walked anxiously towards Sundew, who held the door to his back seat open for her. The girl walked up to Berserker and looked up at him. He looked at her and then at me. "No… I'm not taking the kid." he said, almost warningly. "I can't do this with children, they're so… fragile." he said, moving away from her. "Berserker, the mission has priority. It was assigned to you, you take it." I said to him. "But…" he began, but my stern look silenced him. He scratched the back of his neck and looked at the girl. With a sigh, he went to the car and opened the back seat. She heaved herself in and Berserker closed the door. Suddenly I realized that if the three of them went to the others, that meant the man with the poison green eyes…. I turned to him, but he was no longer there. Startled, I looked inside my car and took a deep breath. He was sitting there, in the passenger seat. I saluted my colleagues one last time, got in and drove off.

(written then translated by me~)

#writeblr #writing #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #wip

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wondernus · 1 year

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˗ˋˏ When We Meet Chapter 2 ˎˊ˗

synopsis: there is only so much forgiving and forgetting you can do when you end up getting stood up by your date over and over again. so when you're stuck between the best friend, the first crush, and their mysterious roommate whose existence seemed like a myth, you can only hope the decision you've been making is the right one.

pairing: kmg x reader

chapter tags: food/drink, mentions of drunk characters, set in the past, last year of university

wc: 2.2k

message from nu: feelings of nostalgia, first crushes, and the mysterious roommate you swore you never saw before. I hope you enjoy ch 2 - nu ♡

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“How come I never get to see your roommate?”

DK looks up from his stack of papers in confusion. It’s a thin stack of tri-colored leaflets and loose handouts from all of his classes that he shoved into his school folder. Some of them didn’t even make it into his folder — he simply shoved the papers into his backpack when he started experiencing senioritis halfway through the semester. Now, the papers resurfaced onto the park table, folded and crumpled with more folds than origami paper fans. He’s pretty sure he’s spent more time trying to figure out which pages contain information for his finals than actually spending time studying.

“What do you mean you never get to see my roommate?” DK answers your question with another question. “Minghao literally came to the park with us.” He places his pencil box on the stack of papers he needs to keep and passes you a sheet of paper from the stack he doesn’t need.

“No. I meant your third roommate,” you correct him while taking the paper from him. “The bottom bunk.”

You fold a corner of the A4 paper to the edge of its opposite side and press along the crease. You drag your thumb’s fingernail along the crease to ensure a sharp and straight fold. Some of the wooden park table’s old blue paint chips and gathers under your fingernail, and you pick it out using your pointer nail. Folding the remaining rectangle against the triangle, you make sure to mark the edge before tearing it off so only the triangle remains.

You don’t know if DK is ignoring you or staring blankly at his notes so you clarify your last statement, “Mingyu.” You look up at DK. “The tall scrawny kid who you said spits while he talks? Like a splash zone?” you inquire.

“There’s no way.” DK’s eyebrows scrunch against the creases of skin between his bushy and unkept brows. “I refuse to believe you’ve never met him before.”

“I dunno.” You shrug your shoulders while you concentrate on folding a giant “X” in your sheet of paper. “I don’t remember seeing him face-to-face or ever having a conversation with him.”

“Nahh. You probably saw him before, but you were just too hungover or drunk. Either one.”

Being drunk you understand. And sure, you have to admit that your head hurts like hell when you’re hungover. However, despite the sharp and agonizing pain you feel in your head after drinking, you’re pretty positive that you could remember and recognize who you interact with. Mingyu was never one of them…at least that’s what you remember.

It feels like clockwork — creasing, folding, and tearing a single sheet of paper to produce those little pocket toys you used to swear by in elementary school. After a few minutes, a small and light blue colored fortune teller sits in front of you. You haven’t made these in years, yet these look just as mesmerizing as ever. It’s as if some genius combined a game of M.A.S.H. and a magic 8-ball together to create the fortune teller. It makes you feel as giddy as a child just from the act of pushing the fortune teller flat so you could write random numbers and answers for questions you don’t already know the answer to.

There’s something very sentimental about folding origami at the local park where children chase each other around the playground and soccer balls crunch against the patchy green grass in the fields two weeks before you graduate from university. But here you are, folding fortune tellers while DK pulls a packed lunch out of his backpack. A store-bought sandwich from the small convenience store in the Student Center on campus, snacks, and a small juicy clementine — your typical Google image search lunch. He peels his tiny clementine, tiny crunches ticking his ear every time he pulls the skin away from the juicy orange flesh. He manages to peel the fruit in one go and admires the circular-shaped fruit sitting in his palm, the zesty fruity smell filling the air.

Time moves forward, yet special moments have a way of bending that linearity — pausing or even bringing you back in time while you stay in the present. Sentimentality is weird, you think. But you recognize that you long for it to stay every time it comes around.

In the distance, dressed in all black, Minghao balances his cell phone against his backpack and struts towards his phone. He trimmed his beloved manbun down to a mullet with long and blunt bangs that hang a little below his eyes, framing his v-shaped jaw. Even the black glossy shine of his fresh manicure shows clearly in the little video he is filming. Yet, his same warm smile and carefree personality stay. And your heart can’t help but melt a little every time he puts his arm around you, thumping happily as he asks about your day.

DK sections his clementine and pops them into his mouth one after the other, slowly chewing as he watches his friend document his outfit of the day from a distance.

“Honestly.” DK coughs a little mid-chew. He swallows before he continues his train of thought. “I’m so glad he’s out of his manbun phase. His whole aesthetic was bordering on cultural appropriation. Oh, I also had to talk him into using non-DIY shampoo and conditioner because I swore I kept seeing buildup on his scalp. Do you think I should receive some sort of credit or reward?”

“He’s pretty,” you muse, smiling to yourself while scribbling an answer down, purposely dotting the I’s with tiny scrawled stars — a tiny heart when the thought of Minghao falls into your mind. If DK asks about the stars and heart, you think you would reply with the fact that you were going for a Kidcore aesthetic.

“Puh-lease,” DK snorts while turning back to his stack of papers. “His bangs are so long he probably forgot what we look like. You should see how Mingyu looks now.” He winks at you.

But you don’t catch his subtle gesture as you continue to jot down your final answer. Feeling giddy inside, you quickly fold the origami back to its completed form, insert your fingers between the flaps, and hold it out to your friend.

He looks enthusiastic at first, quickly wiping his hands off to the side of the table until he stares directly at the fortune teller. He squints at your little project and leans in closer, nose scrunched in tandem.

“You realize I can barely read what you wrote because you folded it printed side up, right?” he comments on your mistake while looking up at you.

“Stop being an ass.” You roll your eyes and nudge the fortune teller closer to him, “Choose.”

“Uh…I want ‘Quantity A and Quantity B…-ormation centered.’”

“Just read what I wrote,” you push.

Eventually, the two of you end up at the last flap. Eyebrow cocked, you unfold the flap with a dramatic flair, hand thrown into the air after letting go. Fake gasping, you pause for effect. He plays along by clutching his chest even though he’s feeling terribly embarrassed.

“You will sell your soul to the devil in order to make tons of friends.”

He immediately frowns and jerks the fortune teller from your hand. “You were able to fit all that in a single answer space?” he asks you incredulously while staring at the piece of paper.

“Nah, it just says ‘idk.’”

He turns to you with an unamused look on his face and immediately hands you back your fortune teller. All of a sudden, the fortune teller you hold in your hands feels used — the bad kind of use. It’s not DK’s fault at all. It just feels like you’re holding something that once held a lot of memories, something once of use, something you’ll have to part ways with eventually. And it sucks feeling this way about a tiny craft you made and used only once one spring day.

A tiny brown bird with a white underbelly lands on DK’s stack of papers. It stays there for a few seconds, tilting its head towards you, staring at you with its circular black eyes. With two little hops, it quickly flies away. Its plight is strong enough to shift the upper three sheets on the stack of papers, but not enough to shift your new mood.

You wonder if moments are meant to be fleeting or if they should be kept for as long as you can keep them. Maybe it’s the Spring blues or whatever you want to call them. It feels weird knowing you won’t be seeing your college friends every single day after you graduate. And it feels weird that you’ve only known DK and Minghao for a few years, but it feels like you’ve spent eternity with them. You want to hold onto this moment, whatever you can manage to call it or define it as, just a little longer.

“Hey, did you want to grab dinner with us later?” DK interrupts your thoughts.

You drop the fortune teller on the table, letting it roll one, two before it stops on one of its edges.

“Mingyu’s coming back to eat with us,” DK quickly adds, realizing he never answered your previous question as to Mingyu’s whereabouts. He fidgets with the idea of telling you that Mingyu visited his family for the weekend, but he decides not to because it isn’t his place to tell — the two of you aren’t even that close. There’s no use in telling you extra information that you don’t need to know. However, he’s still in disbelief that the two of his closest friends have never officially met.

“Oh I can’t. I’m taking grad pics with my club later.” You’re slightly bummed you wouldn’t be able to meet Mingyu.

“Next time then.” He smiles and turns back to his notes.

Yeah…next time.

Late Spring weather and early Summer heat feel hot and sticky on your skin. Beads of sweat collect on your upper lip, and you can feel your t-shirt cling to your lower back. Maybe you're imagining things. Nobody around you seems to be experiencing the same thing. Your friend across from you abandons his notes, and he searches for an easy origami tutorial on his phone. Minghao is long gone, no longer under the tree. He’s probably strolling around the park by himself, hands clasped behind his back like a kind elder who smiles and nods at you whenever he passes you on the road. Yet, you’re stuck in your seat, intrusive thoughts filling your mind.

“Hey DK, do you think we’ll grow apart after graduating?” The question unexpectedly comes out of your mouth.

This reveals itself to be the answer to your worries.

“You okay?” DK looks up from his unfolded origami frog, the same one he used to play with when he was a child, the same one that would make him laugh enthusiastically at how the frog hopped forward when he tapped its back. He thinks Minghao would like it if he made him one. “Having a little existential crisis there?”

Words can’t find a way out of your mouth. You’re afraid of losing this moment, mentally preparing yourself over the course of the last few weeks. Afraid of losing those around you again.

In your world, there is no Yn — singular. There is always Yn and blank. “We come as a package deal,” “BOGO,” “three peas in a pod”: these are all phrases associated with you, phrases you always repeat to others. An introduction of sorts. Lately, you’ve been needier than ever, asking close friends to hang out more and more. You make excuses to stay out longer, telling yourself experiences are worth more than your morning class test in a few hours. You’ll double book yourself with different friend groups, even if it means driving an hour to hang with the next group in a different location. You hate being lonely, yet the only person who doesn’t see that loneliness as a burden is a guy who seems like a background character compared to his roommates. His kindness is genuine, something that you know you can’t take for granted.

“Hey, I’ve known you for like what? Three? Four years? It’s not like I can immediately drop you from my life right after graduating. You also still owe me for all the times I sneaked you into the resident dining hall for free meals.”

He knows you lost touch with your hometown friends almost immediately after you started college. “Best friends forever” written in silver permanent marker and decorated with glittery stickers and pages of personalized yearbook inserts eventually hold as much meaning as quickly scribbling “H.A.G.S.” in the yearbook of somebody you once borrowed a pencil from. And he knows how you cried after you made your first friend in college, one month into the semester.

“Just promise me that you’ll always be my friend.”

“Why are you being all sappy? It’s weird.” He tries to laugh it off, but, in all truthfulness, he’s worried about you.

“Promise me,” you whine.

“Okay dumbass. I promise you.”

#svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #seventeen au #svt au #seventeen series #svt series #mingyu series #mingyu x yn #mingyu fluff #seventeen fic #mingyu angst

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starlitangels · 6 months

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*singsong* Story Time with Star!

Alright y’all. So I only have one ex and idk if he even counts considering we were never officially together and officially went on like two dates but I still consider him an ex due to the amount of emotional effort I put into our relationship at the time

It was a senior-year-of-high-school-and-summer-right-after thing. And he was funny and goofy and fairly smart and kinda cute and we weren’t perfect for each other but we were young. And we never got together because I was moving 45 minutes south for college for a few years and he was moving an hour and a half north so it just wasn’t gonna work and we were both okay with that

Anyway during the two years I was living at college (my last couple years I moved back home because I didn’t have class every single day and I could commute cheaper than rent), his older sister and her husband moved like two streets away from us and my family has always liked theirs so we had them over for dinner a lot

Fast forward to my junior year of college when I’d moved back home, and he was going to be in town until the new semester started. I invited him to dinner with my family and his sister and her husband. I hadn’t wanted to put any pressure on it but apparently he was feeling some sort of pressure (for the record I did my due diligence and told him that it was meant to be casual with nothing behind it) because at the end of the night when we were by ourselves he essentially broke up with me despite the fact that we were never officially together and… he didn’t handle it very maturely (I’ve always been kinda mature for my age and we were like 20 or something so we were both kinda naïve in all this anyway)

A few weeks later a mutual friend of ours sorta found out??? Had been told??? Idk maybe I told him and just don’t remember—and he kinda knew more about my ex at the time and did his best to explain to me where my ex was mentally (which made a lot of sense I guess? Idk I spent most of that time Very Confused) and I was like “okay? Thanks for the info I’m still so confused I wasn’t trying to put pressure on any of this”

And everyone who saw how much the wounds on my heart were smarting were very adamant that he was the one who missed out

And three months after my ex “broke up” with me, he turned up with a girlfriend

Okay cool whatever. The way he’d handled parting our ways had stung like a b!+ch but it wasn’t the new girlfriend’s fault and I genuinely was trying really hard to be mature about the whole thing even though it hurt because I liked him—but I bore them no ill will. Especially not her

Fast forward two years and I met the man who is now my husband and he was… objectively funnier, handsomer, smarter, sweeter, interested in more of the same things I liked and I was so lucky but by the heavens do I apparently have a type because both of these boys are tall, scrawny, blue-eyed goofs although husband’s are arguably grey *dreamy stare just thinking about him*

I sent my ex’s sister and her husband a wedding announcement. I didn’t send him one

I haven’t seen nor heard anything about either of them since. So it’s been like over five years almost six I think?

Anyway, his sister, her husband, and their now three kids (who moved out of our neighborhood after the birth of their first child because they needed more living space several years ago) stopped by my parents’ house tonight while husband and I were there for dinner

And she told me that this guy had basically estranged himself and his now-wife from his family (it was his and his wife’s fault as well as his parents’ fault while his sister was kinda sidelines rolling her eyes because they were all to blame) several years ago and after those years recently actually got in contact again and apparently my ex’s relationship with his wife has a lot of unhealthy habits baked into it (and those seem to be mostly the wife’s fault but he’s enabling it by the sounds of things Idk I didn’t want to pry any more than that)

And while she’s telling us this I’m sitting next to the love of my life and the only thing going through my head is “I dodged a bullet, I dodged a bullet, I dodged a bullet”

She also showed us a picture and my ex was not looking very healthy (kinda sunken and gaunt)

And after they left I explained to my husband who she was and whose sister she was

And my husband goes “oh, that guy?! 😮”

And I’m like “yeah that guy”

And I think things suddenly made sense to him because when her family got there I wasn’t gonna introduce her as “hey babe this is my ex’s sister” because that seems so rude

And when my husband and I had a few minutes to ourselves I told him that I felt like I’d dodged a bullet and my husband says “Yeah but if you’d been the one with him it probably never would have happened.” (Fair and probably true) “But the things she was saying about the life he’s living don’t sound like anything you’ve said you want for yourself” (also true)

So I said “Well I dodged a bullet and he missed an opportunity.” Then said something like “but I also got lucky because I met you” and husband and I are much more compatible and have a lot more shared interests so really I do consider it luck

This concludes Story Time with Star. Hope y’all enjoyed being regaled by the tale of my one ex. Uh… the moral of the story is sometimes things work out for the better even if you think they never will because trust me there were times when I really wanted to share my life with someone and just couldn’t find the right one so patience is real good I guess?

Also when I met my husband I saw him getting out of his car and climbing my parents’ driveway to come pick me up for our first date (I was spying out the front door’s glass) and the first thought in my head was “Oh he’s cute!” And a few years of marriage later I still look at him and think that. He’s also ridiculously smart and silly and sweet and I adore him if y’all are looking for partners, find one that fits with you. Thank you that is all

#Star's Random Rambling #Story Time with Star #maybe someday I’ll tell y’all the story of how my mom and my husband’s mom set us up

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arotechno · 1 year

Text

O. basilicum, part i

These woods were like a second home to Hank. Or a third, if you counted the first home he’d left more than twenty years ago. But that was a different time, in another life, many kingdoms away.

In some parts of the continent, the trees grew hundreds of feet tall, with lofty green branches that stretched all the way to the heavens. If you climbed to the very top of one, you could see the way the land curved—that was how scholars proved the world was a sphere, or so Hank’s teachers used to say. In others, the woods gave way to towering mountains that dwarfed the tallest trees, or sprawling plains that embraced the horizon in every direction. And beyond that, still, lay the sea, and beyond that, Hank supposed he didn’t know.

Here, the forest floor was thick with underbrush, with stout oak trees and maples that produced the sweetest sap Hank had ever tasted. Here, berries grew in the summer and root vegetables in the fall. Here, people didn’t care so much what shape the world was in, or where the ocean was, let alone what lay beyond it. Here, people were much more concerned with how people treated one another, or where their next meal was coming from, or whether their roof would hold under snowfall in the coming winter.

These days, well, Hank thought that was just fine by him.

Hank knew the woods surrounding his village inside and out. He knew every beaten path, for he himself had been the one tamping down the earth under his boots for all these years. He knew every tree, every flowering bush, every tiny stream that overflowed with heavy rains. Every good hunter had to, Hank figured. You had to know where the best places to hunt were, where the deer and rabbits would roam in search of food. He knew every species of snake, and the call of every bird. To a point, Hank figured he must have seen everything.

Today, he experienced something wholly alien to him. Today, Hank found something in these woods he’d never encountered before in all his years. It was a child.

He couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, all knobby knees and scrawny in the hips like he hadn’t eaten in days. The brush seemed to grow up around him where he sat against an oak tree, as if he were part of the ground itself. His tan skin was mottled with scrapes and cuts, and his dark hair looked like a robin had made a nest in it. The boy’s glassy eyes stared forward sightlessly, gaunt face smeared with dirt and grime. Whatever had happened to him, his left leg had seen the worst of it—it was swollen at the knee, and covered in an unsightly array of bruises.

Hank was well acquainted with necrosis, and he was pretty sure this kid was dead. He knelt down and reached to check for a pulse, and sure enough, found nothing.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Poor kid.”

Suddenly, the boy flinched away and yelped like an unfortunate rabbit caught in the maw of a hungry fox.

“Shit!” Hank scrambled back. “He’s still alive!”

“Hank? Was that you?” Ann’s voice called from afar.

“Ann! Get over here, quick!” Hank shouted. The kid hadn’t moved again or made another sound, and his eyes still stared lifelessly. No pulse, but still breathing. Hank’s own breath caught in his throat.

“What’s wrong? What is it?”

“It’s a kid.”

Ann crashed through the treeline into the small clearing where Hank knelt before the boy’s motionless taxidermied form. She skidded to a halt behind him, curly hair escaping its braid.

“What?”

“I said it’s a kid,” Hank repeated, scooting aside. “See for yourself. I damn near shot him.”

Ann crouched beside Hank, eyebrows knitted together. “Shit,” she muttered with bewilderment. “Is he alive?”

“As alive as you or I am. Here, take this.” With ease, Hank took off his bow and passed it to Ann, who took it reluctantly. Her eyes drifted to the child still slumped motionless against the oak, and lit up faintly with recognition.

“I see,” she said softly. “Hank, you really think it’s a good idea to move him in this state?”

“He’ll die if we don’t,” Hank said. He hoisted the boy onto his back, ignoring—with great effort—the way he made a valiant effort to scream in terror with whatever strength was left in his tiny body. With Ann by his side, Hank set off toward home, without any meat for the townsfolk—but bearing a prize greater than anything that lay beyond even the most distant sea.

#:) workin on somethin #aro writing #aro writers #long post #op #o basilicum #the heartless #(spoiler alert! lol)

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observeowl · 1 year

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Avalanche N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: R, Steve and Natasha faces an avalanche during of their mission. In order to save the village, R risk herself and ends up buried in the snow

Your POV “I don’t understand why Fury sent us here.” I huffed at the back seat of the car. Steve and Nat were at the front. We had actually taken the quinjet here to save time but because we didn’t want to risk being noticed, we had to take a three hour drive to our destination.

“Who the hell lives in this cold weather?” Fury had sent the three of you to the north of Russia to investigate the mysterious spike in death in one of the facilities.

“Erm hello?” Your girlfriend responded in the front.

“There’s actually a small village near there with a population around a hundred thousand.” Steve commented. He had done his research before coming to this mission.

“I have to admit it looks nice though…” I mumbled as I looked out the window. The serenity of the tall mountains coated in white surrounding us. Its massive built compared to my scrawny size.

---

“We’re here.” Steve mentioned that our destination came into sight. It was a hydro powered dam that we were supposed to investigate. We were supposed to act as the National Inspection Team, checking to make sure that they are built and working according to regulations. Natasha was there as the translator.

“So Fury said they might be poisoned?”

“No…Y/N… Fury said the cause of death was unknown. They had no underlying conditions so it was suspicious that so many people started dying.” Natasha answered. Thank goodness the both of them did their research and actually read the mission brief.

“Ohh… ” I said as I got out and closed the door. “Burr… It’s so cold here.” I said as the harsh winter wind slapped my face.

“You need to wear your clothes properly.” Natasha zipped up my winter jacket and made sure I was covered properly. Suddenly I felt like I was her child and I was going off to school.

“Thanks.” I gave her a last kiss before we had to keep up our act inside.

---

After we were cleared to enter and met up with the manager, Natasha introduced us and we shook hands. The manager first started off with a tour around the dam so we could get used to the place around here.

After showing us the generator, powerhouse of both sides and the control tower, he ended the tour at the top of the dam. From here, we could see the village between the valley that Steve was talking about. It is about 60miles/95km from where we were standing. Since we were at the top, the wind was very strong and I covered my face in my jacket and my hands in the pocket with hand warmers.

“He said feel free to look around and call him if we have any questions.” Natasha translated. We shot him a kind smile and before he left with his assistant.

Steve and Natasha were still talking behind me while I was looking at the village. It was a flat village with no industrial building, in fact, it looked like it was years behind on technology.

“Nice village?” Natasha came to stand next to me.

“No. It feels as if they are being watched from here. Like they are trapped.” There was a hint of hierarchy I was feeling.

“Anyway, what do you think about that guy?” Natasha tried to bring us on track since we were only going to be here for a few days.

“Not to be trusted.”

“Why?”

“The calluses on his thumb and middle fingers showed that he uses a gun frequently. A manager shouldn’t have such rough hands.” I made the action of pulling the lever and pointing towards the village. “Though I’m sure you knew already.”

“Yeah, Steve and I were talking about it. Let’s go. We still have to look at the dormitory for the employees.”

“It’s freezing…” I shuddered at the cold wind. “I wonder how you lived here.”

“You get used to it.”

---

We looked through the dormitory and there was nothing suspicious to be found. We even checked through the kitchen and storage area but there were no hints of Hydra’s involvement.

“I think they are just using them as experiments.” I said to no one in the car as Steve drove back to our lodgings. “They thought no one would care if a few employees died mysteriously.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve looked at me using the rear view mirror. Natasha slapped his arm because she knew I was coming with a theory.

“That’s why they didn’t do it on the villagers even though it was just nearby. Their parents or friends would suspect things if they were to die suddenly.” I thought out loud.

“Since when did your girlfriend become so intelligent?” Steve asked Natasha. The truth was, I gave all my ideas to Nat, so theoretically speaking, she’s my spokesperson, and nobody knew who was the true owner of the ideas. Though not all of my ideas were taken up by her.

“Rest up. We will be inspecting each turbine tomorrow.” Steve said before we retreated into our rooms.

I sighed in relief as the warmth hit my body. “Thank goddess, no cold weather tomorrow. I thought I was going to turn into ice.” I said and flopped onto the bed.

“Your face is really cold, you should go have a shower first.” Natasha touched my face and I pouted.

“But I want to sleep…”

“And I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Fine… help me.” Nat smirked and picked me up, undressing my layers of clothes that were blocking the cold wind.

>time skip<

Natasha POV The next morning we were at the turbines again, checking through the wiring and making sure they were connected to the correct port and electricity was generated and distributed properly and not being used for corrupted ideas.

“Are you guys hearing this?” Steve stopped inspecting and started listening intently.

“What? What else can you hear with all these sounds?” I questioned him, the turbine was so loud that it was already hard enough to hear him. But of course with his super soldier serum, he could hear more than what a normal human could.

“I could hear something ticking…” Steve said, being unsure of himself now. Suddenly, Y/N grabbed both our arms and started running to the top of the dam.

“Wait! You’re not wearing your jacket!” We took it out because it was so hot inside the turbine room. She took out her phone from her pocket and started scanning the area with the camera zoom function.

“We need to evacuate this area. This dam is going to blow up. Ask all the employees to leave, NOW!” Y/N took her jacket and wore it hurriedly while running towards the exits.

“What are you doing?!” Both Steve and I were clueless about her actions.

“They know their plan was seen through so they are trying to make it seem as if it was a terrorist attack. There’s bombs stuck to the side of the dam and the water is going to flood the village when it blows up.” She said with urgency as she rushed towards the car.

We thought she was going to get into the car but she went towards the trunk and took out her snowboard. “Y/N, what are you doing?” I caught her wrist as she started running away.

“I need to divert the water or it’s going to flood the village!” She shook my hands off and ran away.

“Y/N! Y/N!” I shouted after her, I knew she was going to do something stupid. “Just get them out of here!”

“Come on Nat! We need to go!” Steve shoved me into the car and we drove off, picking up employees on the way who were working at the ground level.

After confirming with them that there were no other employees, we started speeding off to a safe place. A loud bang was heard and the crack in the dam soon spreaded and a whole chunk of it was missing, pouring out waves of water. The pressure and speed at the water was moving, made the damage worse and more water started pouring.

I had thought we were at a safe distance but at the speed the water was racing towards us, it was hard to tell if we were going to get out safely. The distance between was getting shorter with every second. The wave of water was swallowing anything in its path.

My thoughts drifted to Y/N, I searched for her in the mountains. My heart was banging as I scanned through the mountain for any movement. I spotted her snowboarding down from the peak of it. I worried for her safety as I wasn’t sure if she was going to make it out in time.

Your POV Once I made it to the top, I started snowboarding down zig zag, hoping to make as much dent as possible. I needed to make an avalanche big enough to direct the water away from the village.

Since I was at the top, I was able to see the situation better. I could see their car moving away from the dam but it was not fast enough as the water was catching up to them.

I looked behind to check my progress and I could see a few balls starting to roll. Just a few more and I would be able to make it happen. My zig zag started to be more frequent as I dodged the trees and I needed to get it done sooner.

My breath was turning cold as I was not wearing any face protection to be going at this speed. I squinted my eyes as they teared up going against the wind. Finally I was able to make an avalanche and all that’s left was to get out of here.

And of course a stupid branch made me lose my balance and I went rolling. Snow covered me as I lost my orientation. The last thing I heard was Nat calling my name.

Natasha POV My leg bounced nervously as I looked at Y/N as she snowboarded, nervous at what the outcome could be. I kept glancing back at the avalanche, anxious at how close it was to her.

“Y/N!” I screamed as I saw her tumble and snow went over her. “Stop the car.”

“What?”

“I said. STOP THE CAR!!!” Steve slammed the brake I got out of the car. She has successfully caused an avalanche and diverted the water away from the village but what has that gotten her? (some water spilled, but nothing serious)

“Y/N!” I shouted hoping to get a response. I started digging for her even though it was me against a huge pile of snow. "Y/N!"

The others including Steve started digging as well or used their poles to feel around for any signs. It was getting bleak as time passed, we couldn’t waste any time as she laid there in the cold.

“Natasha, you need to stop! Your hand is bleeding.” It was then I internalised the snow that turned red in front of me.

“No… no…” I shook my head, I was breathing heavily. I refused to believe that this was the end. I shakily pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

“Hear it, hear her ringtone.” I begged Steve to hear something, anything that could point us towards Y/N. Everybody stopped moving so he could hear better. He could hear the bomb ticking in the loud turbine, how could he not hear this?

“I think I heard it coming from there.” Steve started to run and everyone followed him. He started digging and the rest did the same around him. I started shoving the snow and I saw the colour of her clothing. I pushed the snow away and I was finally able to see her whole body.

“I found her!” Everyone started to crowd around. “Y/N!” She was so cold to the touch and her lips were turning blue. Her heart was still beating, but weak.

“Nat…” She said faintly before passing out again.

“We better bring her back to the jet.” Steve said. I brought her back to the car and Steve told the others to wait for the authorities to clean up the mess. I was seated in the back row with Y/N hugging her and rubbing my hands along her arms, desperately trying to bring her temperature up. “Why did you have to go and do such stupid things?”

It was a long way back but since Steve was flooring it this time, it didn’t take as long. I took off my jacket and placed it over Y/N to give her extra warmth. Steve gave his and I used it to cover her legs.

We abandoned the car and got into the jet and flew off. We turned up the heat in the jet even though both of us were sweating.

Some colour came back to her face and I finally relaxed a little. Towards the end of the flight, we had to turn on the air condition because it was getting way too hot to bear.

Once we landed back in the compound, I rushed Y/N to the lab. Bruce hooked her up with IV drip to maintain her hydration level as we kept watch on her temperature. It was almost back to normal so all that’s left is to wait for her to wake up.

“What happened back there?” Clint came in and saw Y/N unconscious on the bed.

“They knew it was us and tried to cover it up.”

Clint placed a reassuring arm around my shoulders. “Clint… you have no idea how scared I was, knowing she was there somewhere, but I couldn’t see her.” A tear slipped from my eye and I wiped it off. There was enough showcasing of emotion for today.

2nd POV The last thing you remembered was calling out Nat before passing out. You inhaled a deep breath as you sat up, bright lights shone and you knew you were no longer buried under the snow. You felt a hand on your face and turned to face Nat.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”

You looked at her for a moment. “I… I’m back?” Questioning reality.

“Yeah, you’re back. You’re in the compound.”

“I’m back… I’m back...”

“JARVIS, call Bruce to come over.”

Bruce did an overall check on you and was cleared to leave. Usually you would have to stay a while longer for observation but since you stayed in the compound, if anything happens they can get medical help quickly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nat kept asking as she helped you back to your room.

“What day is it?”

“It’s the same day.” Nat was getting irritated that you kept avoiding her question.

“Don't turn off the lights.” You said, opting to sleep on top of the covers.

Natasha felt that sleeping with the lights on was weird so she kept the bathroom lights on instead, opening the door so the light could shine into the room. She also didn’t understand why you didn’t choose to sleep under the covers especially since you were in the cold.

It was dark and cold. You felt as if you were suffocating, all the blood rushed to your brain and you found it harder to breathe with each passing second. You tried to move your arms and legs but they were stuck as if there were weights tied to them.

Fear set in and panic started to rise as you thought you would be stuck

there forever, until you felt your body move involuntarily.

You choked on air and started coughing and rolled to the side of the bed, thinking you were going to puke. Tears start forming as the pain sets in. You felt someone rubbing your back and your logical mind tells you it was Nat.

"Breathe, don't forget to breathe."

You followed her hand movement and breathed rhythmically.

"Are you okay?" She got out of bed and knelt at your side. She wiped away your tears and rubbed your knees to sooth you.

"I guess it was really stupid..." You could feel your bottom lips quiver. "Now I'm scared of lying down." You said in a quiet voice. "I don't know which way I'm facing and I can't move..."

"But you did it. And you are here. Safe."

It was already night and everyone had gone to sleep, but Nat brought you to the living room and turned on the lights with a movie. She made you sit close to her. "Why don't we watch a movie until you're tired and fall asleep sitting? We won't lay down. Not until you're comfortable with it."

"Do you want a blanket?" Nat asked, not knowing how you feel about it now, but wanting to make sure you're comfortable. You shook your head and clung onto Nat's arm, making sure she's with you all the time.

You didn't care what movie was playing on the TV, it was acting as ambience noise to remind you that you were no longer buried under.

After a couple of minutes, you calmed down and dropped your head onto Nat's shoulders. Hearing that your breathing has steadied and heart beating at a resting heart rate, she looked at you and it was her turn to be anxious.

Nat felt that it was stupid of her to think you would be fine after such a life threatening experience, and she let you out of her sight.

You were so close to slipping out of her fingers and she didn’t make the effort of mentally assessing you after your return. She swore she was never going to let herself be this careless again.

#natasha x reader #natasha x you #black widow 2021 #mcu #marvel #avengers #steve rogers #Detective Conan AU #avalache #my writing

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brakish-tea · 11 months

Text

Fears as dreams I have had:

End: I dreamed my best friend faded away and died before my eyes

Desolation: I was in a burning restaurant trying to frantically find my way out

Slaughter: I was running through an oddly wide and empty version of museum adjacent London when I saw a child who looked like my secondary school bully. I went up to him and he asked in a child's voice "Are you here to kill me?"

Hunt: I spent the last two years going between Canada and London on the run from a scrawny man with a rifle. I was with my mom. We would close the blinds and live in hiding and we weren't scared because it felt normal to us. One day, my mom gave me a hunting rifle to defend myself. On that same day, my mom was having too long a conversation with one of the neighbors and had left the door open and I was silently gesturing for her to come inside and when we did go to the door it was closed and unlocked. We both knew he was inside and so we both scattered before I heard the gunshots of my rifle echo out across the street and the scrawny man's face was angry. I ran all the way down the near by highway and the air was cool. It all felt normal. He was behind me.

Flesh: My skin texture was melty and strange. Very bad.

Corruption: A recurring dream where I had a very contagious orange coloured terminal infection. I laughed and joked for people not to come near me to make it seem like I wasn't scared to die while making it so that others wouldn't get infected.

Stranger: I was not!them and I was running through a Russian community center (I have never been to Russia in my life). The walls were white plaster and bare save for a pink ballet advert flyer I couldn't read. Jonathan Sims was chasing my with a metal pipe as I was about half way into climbing into the skin of some blonde guy before he hit me. I remember being indignant that the hit meant I made the my torso the wrong height. A similar feeling to when someone jogs your hand while you're drawing.

Buried: I was a young child at the pool with my mom when I fell into a small thin rectangular pool that seemed to go down forever. I was drowning and I couldn't swim back up. I couldn't breathe. When I woke up, it turned out I had choked on my tongue while I slept and that was why I had that dream.

Web: In this dream, I was quite literally The Web. There was a plan over many years where 10 people were sent anonymous paypal money over imessage which would, 5 years later, lead to the death and coverup of a 19 girl hiking in the woods. This would eventually lead to strings based rapture into the skies. When I woke up and felt like a person with an identity again and not an overarching force/concept I was confused and felt like some kind of cosmic horror protagonist which was cool.

Eye: Honestly don't think I have ever had an Eye dream which is odd given my track record.

Spiral: I was in a really fucked up trippy hotel maze thing with blacklights and ladders and messages that didn't make sense and Ryker 8:11 was there and then I climbed out of a trap door and I was on the ground at night in the rain in Brighton.

Lonely: I snuck onto an Antarctic research team base under a fake name after faking my own death. I stood at the outskirts of our little town looking at the warmth and the lights contrasting the tundra and it struck me that this was the only place anyone even knew I existed.

Vast: A childhood memory of a storm came back to me in a dream when I talked to a friend from that world. I still remember it clearly. I must have been 7 or so and I was going with my friends to the park. We stood on the side of the hill and saw a storm. It was so low and small as if it were my storm. As if it were there to strike me. But it was so tall and impossibly vast and dark and roiling and crashing I could not understand it. When the flashback finished, the girl in my dream asked if I had been struck by lightning but I explained I would have a lichtenburg scar if I had.

Dark: I was a priest like figure in a cult that worshiped dark and stars. I remember I was lying in my bed. It was accommodation provided by the cult themselves. The bed was cool and the room was dark, but cast into a deep blue black by the faint light of the stars outside. I felt fulfilled and in tune with the world in a way I have never done so to any meaningful extent.

Extinction: I was standing in the rain and my friend said that the rain drops were too small. I looked at them. They were cloudy and feeble and polluted and tasted unnervingly sweet.

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darlingvirus · 8 months

Text

Oc Story under the cut.

Tw for animal abuse, implied child abuse, and also a child falls face first in some mud while chasing a frog.

3/xx/2010

The humble frog.

A keystone species in Ireland’s ecosystem, there was only one species native to the island. A wee, brown critter with dark spots, quick to run from any perceived threats. Quick as they were, though, it still wasn’t quite quick enough to get away from Victoria.

Our brave frog hunter, Victoria, was wearing her usual weekday play outfit. Plain blue overalls over an old red shirt, with her socks hiked high in her hand-me-down red converse. This was one of her favorite outfits to wear, in fact. She had always liked the color red, Aaron said it complimented her red hair.

The young girl, no older than nine, held her hands carefully cupped, the trapped froglet contained inside her small grasp. Victoria was very proud of herself to have caught something today. She had been trying to apprehend one of these stray amphibians all week, and now she had the proof of her good skill! She would impress her brother, and her mother with her catch for sure. She walked her way back home from the pond, a confident spring in her step as she did. As she made her way to the end of the long deerpath, she spotted her brother, Aaron, standing out on the porch of their old house. Aaron was a tall boy for his age, with glistening purple hair, unusually long ears, and equally as unusual eyebrows. As soon as she spotted him, Victoria called out to him in excitement, picking up the pace as she dashed forwards.

“RON! RON! I CAUGHT IT! LOOKIT WHAT I—!” Before Victoria could finish her thought, she lost her footing, tripping over a stray rock in the dirt and tumbling to the ground. She dropped the frog, who quickly hopped away to its freedom without a second thought. Victoria grunted in pain, but only momentarily. Without a second thought, she quickly pushed herself back up and chasing after the frog again. Her brother laughed as he watched the her run around, shouting all sorts of terrible insults that Victoria definitely shouldn’t know at the amphibian.

“You stupid fekkin’— slimy arsehole—!” Vic screamed out, her shrill tone only further amusing her brother, who was now shaking his head as she ran about in circles after the frog.

“Just let it go, Vicky, he’s won this one!” He joked, taking a log of firewood from off of the porch. “Ma wants us in soon anyways! You know how cross she gets when you stay out too long.” He warned.

Victoria ignored Aaron outright, continuing to chase the frog screaming. Aaron furrowed his brow in concern as his sister caught up with the animal. He watched carefully, placing the log down beside him. A dark, anxious feeling hit his gut as she watched Victoria violently grab for the frog. A recent memory occurred to him of his sister ‘playing’ too roughly with a distant neighbors wandering cat.

She had gotten frustrated and *thrown* the poor animal for running away from her.

Aaron decided the frog was in immediate danger of being the next victim, and took action.

“Hey… HEY—!” He shouted, causing Vic to trip once again in fright. Aaron winced in emotional pain as his baby sister burst into tears, sitting on the damp ground with mud all over her.

“Vicky— it’s alright!…” he said, easily picking the scrawny child up gently. He held her closely his arms, rubbing her back.

She only kept crying, hugging onto him tightly and hiding her face in his shoulder.

“I— just— wanted— to show you—!” She huffed and whined through tears.

“I… I saw it. Even if it got away.” he promised, patting her on the back in reassurance. He silently cursed himself for having yelled at her. She was just nine. Her friends weren’t around, and everyone knew they were a terrible influence on her. *His sister* wouldn’t hurt a living creature on purpose like that without outside influence. She just didn’t have an appropriate outlet for her frustration yet. It wasn’t a big deal, nothing that couldn’t be addressed some other day.

“There will be lots more frogs for you to find tomorrow.” He promised her.

Aaron frowned and looked back at the door behind the two of them. He knew their mother would be furious with Victoria for getting so messy again. Maybe moreso when she heard how loudly she was crying. Would it be best to wait for her show to be over? Sit out here with her until she calmed down? There was no use in trying to take the blame, he knew that. Their mother had a one track mind, and now that *he* was bigger than she was, that track was often little Victoria. He sat down on the front door step, looking out at the setting Sun as he thought.

“Victoria, we’re going to sit here for a little bit.” He told his sister, putting her down in his lap. He put hands on her shoulders and attempted eye contact with her, to which the young girl looked away.

“But you have to let out all your cries, okay?” He said to her, bouncing her on his knee gently in vain attempts to calm the emotional ten year old down.

“When you’re ready to be quiet, we can go inside, and I’ll clean you up.”

#ooooo baby Vic oooooo #vic #my ocs #my writing #oc writing #read the tws or I’ll vaporize you #my oc #aaron

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blade-liger-4ever · 7 months

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RWBY X Transformers Partnerships 2: Taiyang "Tai" Xiao Long and Ironhide - Combat Veterans

"So, you have a daughter who loves violence and uses a brawler style, too?"

"Yeah, though Miko's technically adopted, but Ah'm not one to frag around with that bit o' nuance. How 'bout the music taste o' yours? Does she like heavy metal, too?"

"Yang's more into rock 'n roll, but I think they'll end up trading interests once Miko starts training with her new Semblance."

"Heh, yeah. Hope you don't mind her explosions."

"Hey, I was blowing crap up before I enrolled at Beacon. I can handle it."

"Alright, but jus' wait 'til she sneaks along fer a mission and ruins the enemy's day, Tai. You'll see then."

"......Ironhide, why was that so specific?"

Tai's no stranger to waking up to the sounds of explosions. Usually it's the memory of an old mission from his days with STRQ, or the echoes of his daughter training in the backyard.

So feeling the explosions taking place roughly twenty miles away from his home is very much a Bad Sign, in his book.

Throwing on some proper clothes in ten seconds, Tai races through the building to check on its occupants. Ruby's still unconscious, and Yang's stumbling out of bed because of the racket while Mercury and Neptune charge down the hall from their shared guest room. After he's calmed down the three teens, Tai orders the boys to stand guard while he goes to check things out. Tai still isn't sure what to think of the boyfriends his girls (girl and niece, his mind reproaches him) brought home, but seeing as Tai put the fear of the Lord into Neptune, and he and Qrow cross-examined Mercury to the point the ex-assassin asked if they wanted him behind bars or watching the house in case of threats, Tai felt this was a good decision as he drove out to investigate the disturbance.

That resolve wavers once he sees a red and black robot that's a good forty feet tall beating the paint (literally, he realizes) off of three scrawnier robots while half the forest behind him is scorched earth.

Holding back, Tai watches as the red and black robot battles the other three, their fighting style admittedly lackluster compared to their single, giant opponent's unpredictable brawler technique. In spite of the situation, Tai finds himself noticing the red and black robot using a myriad of styles both familiar and unfamiliar to him. A blur of color races by on the ground, and looking down, he sees a girl close to Ruby's age in bright, Huntress-styled clothing dive behind a tree. Her hands glow with purple fire, and no sooner has Tai deduced that it must be her Semblance than does the girl jump out from behind the tree, give a war cry in a language he's never heard before, and throws a massive fireball at the last standing scrawny robot. It hits him square in the face, and gives her apparent ally the opportunity to shoot him through the chest.

Before Tai can fully register that the victorious robot's arm and hand turned into a gun, the girl gives a different shout in English. Watching the scene unfold before him, Tai witnesses the girl runs toward the robot, who crouches down and holds out a hand for the brightly colored teen to throw her arms around his index finger. The innately paternal gesture makes Tai's concern melt away immediately - whether you're a giant or not, human or robot, to treat a child that tenderly is a sign of the individual's safety to be around.

Certain that the enemies are dead - or at least as dead as giant robots can be - Tai calls out to the two strangers. After some cautious introductions, Tai learns that the robot is called Ironhide while the girl is Miko. It takes some more wheedling on his part, but he eventually gets Ironhide to admit that the two have been separated from friends, and seeing as there's not much else for them to do, Tai invites them to stay at his place. Ironhide and Miko discuss this in the girl's strange language, but they noticeably perk up over something, and before he knows it, Ironhide turns into a pickup truck and questions if they have satellites on the planet.

Confused in a way he hasn't been since learning the Branwen twins could turn into birds back in his first year at Beacon, Tai confirms it. The journey back and explaining to three teenagers freaking out - both in fear and excitement - over the existence of apparent sentient robots is a whirlwind for Tai, but he powers through it enough to find out from a still-explodey Miko that Ironhide is using the house's satellite antenna to broadcast a message across the planet to contact the Autobots.

Somehow, the term "Autobots" is the last straw for the senior Xiao Long, and corralling his charges into Ruby's room, Tai has Ironhide stand outside the open window and explain himself to the humans, Miko on the Autobot's shoulder the entire time. In layman's terms, Ironhide informs them in short order about the 'Bots and 'Cons, Cybertron and the war, and the battle that transpired before they were transported to Remnant, the name having been given to the two "aliens" during their discussion. Miko worries if Remnant has energon, but no sooner has she finished the comment does Wheeljack break through the comm with the news that he has an alternative, and as Tai watches a white-red-green sports car drive up the path to the house, he's stunned to see Qrow of all people step out before this vehicle transforms, too.

"Man, I need some STRONG coffee to deal with this."

Tai and Ironhide, being some of the older and more experienced members of this growing alliance, understand each other from a warrior's perspective. But more than that, they recognize in each other a paternal figure, and oftentimes are seen training with the kids, both human and Cybertronian. Once he's made sure that Tai is a competent fighter and skilled in the use of a Semblance, Ironhide allows the man to teach Miko how to use hers so she can better defend herself. Tai can always feel Ironhide watching him, making extra certain his girl is safe, and Tai likewise knows that Ironhide is aware of his presence when he's interacting with Yang and pushing her to get back into the world and accept her prosthetic arm. Although it's hard hearing Ironhide's drill sergeant attitude at the beginning, Tai recognizes that what the older 'Bot is saying to his daughter is necessary, something he later thanks him for doing as he can't bring himself to say such things to his Sunny Little Dragon. In return, Ironhide expresses his own gratitude for Tai's willingness to go toe-to-toe with Miko and not hold back in their training; normally Ironhide would do what Tai is doing with the girl, but he's too big to be able to do more than encourage and push.

This helps them bond during the Autobots' time on Remnant, and they're arguably some of the closest among the human-Autobot partnerships in the alliance. They hang out together, watch over and guide the kids, and enter the fray together, each one managing to keep Miko in their sight. Although Qrow is his brother in all but blood (even when the details of Ruby's true parentage are brought to light), Tai feels a closer bond with Ironhide. Maybe it's the violent streak they share, or the fatherly nature they express to the kids in their care, but somehow, Tai feels like he's gained a more genuine brother in Ironhide. And while the older 'Bot won't admit it in public - or in some private places - Tai knows the sentiment is reciprocated.

After all, only veterans would understand a connection as deep as their bond.

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

Here's the second part, folks! I gotta admit, I almost handed Ironhide over to Yang, but then I thought, "Why not give him Tai? They're both fathers, it'll totally work out."

And they honestly do, too! At the beginning, their team name was hard for me to find; I had been contemplating using 'dragon' in the nickname, but then I decided on using 'combat' as a part of it. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for "Combat Veterans" to enter my mind, and it truly sums them up: veterans of combat who've seen it all, but don't let it break them.

Now if you're hoping to get outside of Vale soon, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I have a few more partnerships in mind for the remaining characters in Patch, as well as at least three more 'Bots who arrive to answer Ironhide's signal. That said, once I'm done here, I'm likely gonna head to Atlas for some match ups - or I'll take a break after getting Ruby done. I don't know.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, readers! See you around!

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keishun · 2 years

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Some of my Creepypasta headcanons!!

‘Ticci’ Toby (Tobias Rogers)

-he’s average height for a male, maybe a bit tall so like 5’9?

-he’s 19

-he’s definitely jewish or just white..

-he’s a libra

-he’s definitely bisexual and polyamorous

-he’s super clumsy

-his clothing style is steampunky

-his favorite subject in school was history or literature

-definitely listens to deftones, ghost, and songs from musicals

-he has a couple of mental disorders such as tourette’s syndrome, AUTISM (nobody says he has this and I personally feel offended but that’s just me personally), schizophrenia, insomnia, and maybe some other ones

-he actually dislikes horror movies, like he can tolerate them he just doesn’t see the appeal

-a huge riddler fan

-prefers dc OVER marvel

-likes thanksgiving

-definitely uses tone tags in his texting

-he and tim don’t really talk a lot but do have some show preferences in common

-can play the drums

-really likes bagels

-does not like eggs at all

Sally Williams

-she’s pretty tall for her age, so 5ft

-she’s like 9 or 10

-she’s black but has vitiligo

-likes christmas

-she’s a scorpio

-she dresses in Lolita fashion

-her music taste is definitely something… like she will listen to the popular songs at the moment and will play it so much to the point that everybody would/should know the lyrics to that song

-she definitely listens to k-pop though

-tries to learn korean

-she has a lot of porcelain dolls

-the dolls names are Gertrude, Minerva, Edith, and Angelica

-her teddy bears name is Samuel the Bear

-she’s blind in her left eye

-when she was younger she played the violin

-her favorite Disney movie is ‘Sleeping Beauty’

-she doesn’t kill as much as the other pastas due to her being a literal child but she will occasionally join in with lazari

-her favorite people in the mansion are slender and lazari

-very picky eater

Ben Drowned (Benjamin Lawman)

-actually taller than a lot of people say! 5’6

-he’s probably 13 and was gonna turn 14 before he died

-asian

-likes halloween

-has social anxiety and trust issues

-he’s a taurus

-he dresses in one of those sleep, eat, game, repeat shirts with neon socks and shorts

-likes to play soccer

-he definitely has discord

-play fortnite(💀) and cod

-prefers marvel over dc

-does have a fear of water

-has a sibling bond with Sally and Jeff

-wears axe body spray

-drinks mtn dew EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

-he was definitely in French class in school

-his favorite subject was probably math

-can hack into things very easily

-he thinks he’s straight but he’s not, probably pan or something

-listens to a lot of video game music or trashy rap music

Jeff The Killer (Jeffrey Woods)

-pretty tall 6’

-probably somewhere in his 20s

-has anger issues, schizophrenia, and adhd

-an aries

-white asf

-listens to heavy metal and trashy rap music

-is one of those people who wears hoodies even during summer

-makes some pretty good food for a killer

-he has to get the cuts on his mouth stitched up every other month because they keep reopening

-mixes up north, south, west, and east

-doesn’t like breakfast foods

-has a Boston accent

-prefers savory food over sweet and spicy foods

-he HATES spicy food

-he likes to collect bugs in jars or like little bird skulls

-GOES ALL OUT FOR HALLOWEEN I AM NOT KIDDING YOU ISTGGG

-uses the axe body spray he stole from Ben

-he did not do his homework for school, I don’t even know how he passed his senior year..

-will know random ass facts that literally nobody knows, like this one time with Ben

Ben: Tell me a random fact

Jeff: The Eiffel Tower can be 15cm taller in the summer!

Ben:

Jeff:

Ben: How the fuck do you know that

Anyways

-he’s definitely pansexual and polyamorous

Jack Nichols (Eyeless Jack)

-pretty shorter than what people say he is, 6’3. Like no he is not 6’10, he was a scrawny short awkward college student trying out in the medical field not a basketball player..

-has a random fear of nursery rhymes

-he’s a virgo

-listens to rock, metal, and pop

-he’s in his 20’s or he’s like 19

-studies different types of plants

-is probably one of the doctors in the mansion

-a huge nerd

-reads so many books, if you name a random book he’ll probably know it

-was probably so insecure back in college so imagine how insecure he is now… yea..

-doesn’t get the appeal over stranger things

-he definitely likes dc over marvel because like I said he’s such a nerd. (NOT SAYING ANYBODY WHO LIKES DC IS A NERD, I LITERALLY LUV DC)

-he also really likes the x-men

-has a kin list (DO NOT BASH ME)

-he likes cranberries a lot, maybe a little to much

-HATES pomegranates

-he actually does not have an obsession with kidneys like people says he does.. I feel like he would like something bigger maybe??

-has a grunge type of style

-doesn’t wear his mask a lot unless he is on a mission

-probably bisexual or pan also polyamorous cause I said so

-hates apples

-adores little kids due to working with primary schools while in college

Okay, this is only Part 1. I really wanted to get this out as soon as possible due to me having zero fics and shit anyways!, if you guys want I will also do x readers and stuff, just recommend them and look at my list for shit that I will do and won’t do! Okay byeeeee! :DD

#creepypasta #eyeless jack #ticci toby #sally williams #ben drowned #jeffery woods #jeff the killer

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shera-dnd · 2 years

Text

TOOK US A LITTLE BUT IT'S HERE!

The next installment on the Tales of the Troll Lands, following the disaster trio as they begin their journey to discover what caused the dragon attack in the first place.

This time featuring a brand new party member AND an incredible illustration by @midnightechoes who did an astounding job bringing our girl Talem to life

And if you'd like to get a fic idea written out by me consider donating to my kofi, and if we reach this month's goal your fic too may have incredible art just like this

anyways enjoy the read

It was a calm night in a small human town on the borders of the troll lands. The sun had just set, and the people went about their business. Shops closed, bars opened, some made their way home to call it a day, some went off to enjoy their nights.

And in the church at the center of town a priestess went about her cleaning duties.

The life of clergy wasn’t exactly glamorous. It was a lot of busy work and not a lot of recognition.

Not like Aurea minded, she did this for the pleasure of helping others. Though it would be nice if she could do more.

She could still help people here, but could she really make that much of a difference while stuck in this small isolated town?

The Gods had gifted her with magic, shouldn’t she be out there saving people in need?

How selfish of her.

She should just focus on her tasks, and care for the people she can care for.

Her dreams of adventure could wait.

Nearly an hour had passed by the time the head priest returned to congratulate her on her hard work. He was a kind old man, happy to serve the people just like she was.

With her nightly tasks done she was ready to head home when she heard a loud thumping against the temple’s door, like someone was trying to knock it down with a battering ram. She froze, unsure of what to do, and for a moment there was silence, before a loud booming voice called.

“Is anyone there? I was told I could find a healer here.”

Oh. It was a troll… Why would a troll need a healer?

The head priest wasted no time opening the doors for them.

The figure behind it stood easily over 10ft tall, though they were downright scrawny for their size. They had blue skin, short white hair, and a pair of small tusks protruding from their mouth. They wore only a simple vest and pants, not bothering with shoes, or any protection from the colder weather.

And they seemed perfectly fine.

“What is it you need, my child?” The head priest asked.

“My name is Talum,” he introduced himself with a bow that nearly had him knocking his forehead to the arch of the door, “me and my party are traveling north and wanted to request the services of a healer to accompany us.”

Party?

As in an adventuring party?

“My child, I don’t think–”

“I’d be happy to accompany you,” Aurea interrupted without a thought, “though I’m not sure of what service I can be to your kind.”

Talum waved off her worries, “we’re expecting plenty of burn wounds in the future, so you’ll be plenty useful… oh! And properly compensated. We do not expect you to work for free.”

Compensation was the last thing on her mind if she was being honest.

Sure money is nice, but the chance to truly go out there and make a difference in the world?

She just couldn’t let that opportunity pass her by.

The head priest loudly cleared his throat and looked wearily her way, “are you sure about this? You’ve never left the city walls before, and I’m certain this journey will be arduous.”

“I’m certain,” she answered, coming over to him and taking his hands, “please trust me. I know I can do this, and I’m certain this is where I’m needed most.”

The man looked ready to argue, but some puppy dog eyes were more than enough to get him to agree.

Talum chuckled at the sight, “very well then! Consider yourself hired. We’ll be departing tomorrow night, so you’ll have all day to pack up and get ready.”

“Of course,” she happily answered, before realizing something odd about his plan, “wait. We’ll be leaving at night?”

~~~

Right.

They were trolls…

Blessed by the goddess of the moon with great night vision. They were active exclusively at night, which meant she also had to be active at night. They didn’t like fire, so no torches either. She would have to make do with an enchanted lantern that generated no heat.

Aurea shuddered as the cold winds blew past her, and she pulled her cloak closer to cover her chest.

Behind her Cendis chuckled.

“Need some warming up, big girl?”

Cendis was a fire giant. Somehow even taller than her troll companions by a good 5ft at the very least. Her eyes glowed red in the night, and small embers pulsed within the red braids of her hair, illuminating the ashen skin of her face and the black scales of her cloak.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Aurea insisted, though she wouldn’t mind a little more warmth, “wouldn’t want to make our friends uncomfortable.”

“Oh please,” Cendis scoffed, “hey Talem, quit being a little bitch, and let me make some fire for our friend.”

Talem, the leader of the group turned to look at her.

She was Talum’s twin, though she was somehow much larger than him. She was built like a stone wall, and her muscles would already be terrifying on someone of human size, let alone a troll. Her tusks and her hair were also considerably longer than Talum’s - he liked keeping both trimmed and well cared for.

Then there was the most standout trait about her. Something Aurea constantly tried not to look at, and had yet to bring attention to.

Talem was missing her left arm. All that was left was a burned stump right below the shoulder.

“Are you fucking serious?” Talem asked, sounding more annoyed than angry, but still carrying far more antagonism than Aurea was comfortable with.

“Come on,” Cendis insisted, “what’s the worst that could happen? She’s our healer, if we fuck up she can just patch you back up in no time. Right, big girl?”

“R-Right,” she stammered out, partially because of the cold and partially out of surprise of being brought into this conversation.

“See?”

“Ugh, fine,” Talem waved off, “just don’t do anything stupid.”

“When have I ever?” Cendis joked, though from Talum’s look it was clear this wasn’t a question that should be answered.

This set the unfortunate pace that the next few days followed.

Aurea would struggle to adapt to her new conditions, Talem would act dismissive, and one of the other two would come to her defense.

The friction between them only became worse once she realized Talem was the clear leader of the group. They were all friends - all except Aurea of course - but Talem was the one in charge.

Which did beg the question.

Why?

She was the boss, in theory she was the one who decided to hire Aurea. She was the one who went out of her way to get a healer.

Then why did she seem to resent her presence so much?

At least she still had the company of the other two. Cendis especially seemed the most welcoming and accommodating. So Aurea grew to trust her, and one night when Talem left camp to go hunting, she found herself asking her companion the reason for their leader’s behavior.

“It’s because she’s an idiot,” Cendis answered matter of factly, lounging back next to her tent.

“I don’t think that’s fair to her,” Aurea tried to defend, sitting by the campfire.

“No, she’s right,” Talum nodded in agreement, though it was hard to hear him since he was sitting so far away from the flame, “my sister is an idiot.”

Those weren’t the most helpful of answers,so she pressed on. “I’m sure there has to be more to it than that.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Cendis surrendered, “she’s proud, hard headed, and an idiot.”

Aurea sighed, “fine, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m serious,” the giant insisted, “look Talem is easily the nicest, most clever person I know, but the moment her pride is on the line she turns into a huge pain in the ass.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense to her, “she hired me, how am I a threat to her pride?”

Talum flinched, “so about that… Cendis only told her we were hiring a healer well after I talked to you about it.”

“Oh yeah,” Cendis chuckled, “and I had to threaten to slice her other arm off if she didn’t accept that we were hiring you.”

Aurea looked utterly appalled by the implication. Cendis didn’t seem to understand that.

“What?” She shrugged, “It would grow back.”

She sputtered, trying to find a way to argue that point, but soon decided it was best to just leave that be and focus on the main topic at hand.

“Okay, but why all the subterfuge? Why did you have to hide it from her that you were gonna have a healer?”

“Because needing you is the same as admitting things have changed, and to do so is admitting defeat,” this time Talum answered, walking closer to their campfire so he may speak to her eye to eye, “and every time something has to change to accomodate for you, she’s reminded of that defeat.”

Right. That. So that’s why they hired her in the first place. The one thing she had been refusing to address this entire time.

Aurea shrunk into herself, and pulled her cloak closer around her.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come into this journey…

No.

She said she wanted to help more people, and Talem clearly needed help, even if she was being a stubborn, proud idiot about it. She just had to find a way to get through to her.

She stood up again and met Talum’s eyes. “How do I get her to get over it then? I need her to know I’m not leaving this group, and that I’m not some burden she has to bitterly accept!”

Cendis chuckled heartily at that and answered, “oh, I know just the way.”

~~~

Days passed, and Aurea held her new trick close to her chest, waiting for the perfect moment to use it. The perfect moment to gain Talem’s respect, and regain some control over her adventuring life.

…Either that or ruin it entirely, get kicked off the party for good, and have to trek two weeks back through the forests again, all on her own.

But no good plan ever came without risks.

And speaking of plans…

Talem was going over the maps of the coming marshlands surrounding the black dragon’s abandoned lair.

There was a well worn trail snaking its way through the sparse patches of solid ground in these lands. It would make for a winding journey, but a safe and dry one.

Though that didn’t seem like Talem’s plan.

“The water around here should be barely knee height,” she pointed out, gesturing at the map, “we can easily save a day of travel by cutting through here.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Aurea blurted out without even realizing what she was saying.

“Look it’s not that bad, it’s shallow water,” Talem argued, sounding as if she already knew this was gonna be a problem.

“That’s waist height for me!” She almost yelled this time, “I’m not walking through waist high, murky swamp water, in the middle of the night!”

“What? Do you want me to carry you around then, princess?” Talem spat with a cruel laugh.

“What I want is for you to actually take me in consideration for once!” She jumped up, staring the sitting troll right in her eyes, “I’m as much a part of this group as you, and I demand to be treated with respect.”

“Respect!? Do you know how considerate I’ve been this entire time!?” Talem shouted back, pushing herself up as well, “letting you keep a fire every night, slowing down our march to keep up with your pace, stopping early so you could get used to traveling at night. I’ve done nothing but be welcome towards you, and all you do is complain!”

“I’m the one complaining!? You can’t do a single favor without acting like it’s some great, tragic sacrifice!” The shouting was exaggerated, meant to escalate things, but oh was it cathartic. Maybe she was faking it less than she thought, “maybe if you were such a great planner, you would have considered my needs before hiring me!”

Talem growled, “well, maybe I shouldn’t have hired you in the first place!”

At that Talum decided to intervene, rising up to his sister eye level, “hey, hey, maybe we should all just calm down and talk things out later.”

“No!” Aurea shouted, making Talum step back in surprise, “I am not just going to stand here and take this any longer! Talem! I challenge you to a troll’s duel!”

There was a beat of silence.

Talum stunned in shock that she would use her secret weapon now, Cendis looking almost giddy to watch this unfold, and Talem utterly confused for but a moment before shooting her two other companions a murderous glare.

Cendis only replied with a shrug, which did nothing to calm her temper.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Talem asked, baffled, before turning back to Aurea, “you’re kidding. I could pin you down with one foot.”

Aurea was unaffected by the boast, standing firm against the troll - even though she was barely half her size - “if you’re so sure, then you have no reason to deny my challenge.”

“Alright, big girl,” she said, cracking her neck, “I’ll bite. A troll’s duel it is.”

With a quick command they began to move their maps aside to free up space for their clash.

A troll’s duel. A battle not to the death or to first blood, but to submission.

All weapons were allowed, though most preferred to fight with their bare hands and grapple their opponents to the ground. This was not an option for Aurea, so instead she would fight with her grandpa’s greatsword.

“Are you both ready?” Cendis asked, taking the role of their judge.

“Last chance to ditch,” Talem taunted.

“Ready.” Was all the answer she gave her.

“Tch, ready,” Talem echoed.

“Very well. Begin! ”

Aurea rushed in and stuck by Talem’s right side. It would be easy to focus the left, use the missing arm to her advantage, but that would only undermine her plan. She had to prove to Talem that she was more than just a reminder of her failure, and she couldn’t do so by pressing on her left side.

The troll swung with her right arm, her claws raking dirt and tossing it towards Aurea, who was forced to step back. She barely recovered her footing when a massive fist came crashing towards her head.

Aurea lunged to the side, and the ground shook with the impact of that fist.

Okay, maybe she underestimated Talem’s strength just a little bit.

Another swing came her way, but this time she managed to roll under it, getting right next to Talem’s leg.

She swung her sword to the back of the troll’s knee… but hesitated. Talem could regenerate, but she had never harmed someone before, she wasn’t sure if she could.

Her opponent cared very little for her moral dilemma and simply backhanded her hard enough to send her flying into the treeline.

With a loud crack, she hit a tree trunk shoulder first.

“Ready to give up?” Talem asked.

Aurea looked at her arm. Dislocated. Well that wasn’t good.

She pushed her arm back into place, and whispered a quick prayer to heal her muscles.

A feeling like warm, soothing, water washed over her shoulder and she gave it a feel stretches to try it out.

Good as new.

“In your dreams.”

Talem growled and rushed towards her, but Aurea was prepared. The tree toppled under her blow, but the human was left safe and sound.

“Are you gonna start fighting back, or are you just gonna waste everyone’s time again?” Came another taunt.

“I’ll fight back when you start taking this fight seriously!” She shot back.

There was another growl and another blow, “I’m trying not to kill you, you idiot.”

“Well then stop,” Aurea shouted, “I’m your opponent! Treat me as such!”

“Fine!” She shouted and the rumble she heard was not of a growl, but of thunder. Talem’s eyes glowing an unnatural blue.

Now for every swing of Talem’s fist there came a strike of lightning, and as fast as Aurea was, she couldn’t dodge lightning.

It seared her skin and made her muscles twitch with every hit, but she kept her prayer strong, healing her body faster than Talem could harm it.

She just had to keep it steady. Look for an opening. Wait for the perfect moment, for when Talem’s rage reached its peak.

Gods above what was she doing?

Fighting a massive troll, imbued with the power of the storms, in some random forest, in the middle of the night.

Why did she think this was a good idea?

Talem lifted her fist again, crackling with energy.

That was it. It was now or never. Even in her rage, there was no way she would fall for this trick a second time.

This time when lighting struck, she was ready, her blade was lifted up into the air, the metal attracting the electricity. The sword heated up in her hands and an arc formed between it and Talem’s body. It was a terrifying amount of power contained in the small space between them.

And then she swung her sword.

The arc shot back, sending Talem flying backwards and burning a pair of trees next to her.

There was a quick prayer. A wish for good luck. Pleading that her plan would go exactly as she wanted.

The trees cracked and toppled, one landing perfectly over Talem.

Aurea couldn’t believe it.

Sure, her prayers of healing were always answered. She was a channel to the gods’ benevolence.

But to have something so small, so silly, so selfish, be answered. It was a sign that this is what the gods wanted her to be doing.

She rushed over as fast as her tired legs would let her and placed a single foot on the troll’s chest, the tip of her blade coming to rest under her chin.

“Ready to give up?” Aurea echoed.

“In your dreams,” Talem shot back, but with her good arm caught under a tree she could not push herself free of Aurea’s foot.

“And that’s three!” Cendis declared loudly, “Aurea is the victor of this troll’s duel!”

She let out a breath she had been holding and took her foot off of Talem.

“Oh you lucky little shit!” Talem shouted as she continued to struggle her way out.

“Luck or not the victory is still mine,” Aurea challenged again.

“She does have a point, you know,” Cendis commented, lifting the tree off of her friend.

“Seriously?” She asked as she sat up, earning herself only a glowing red glare from the giant, “okay, okay,” she grumbled before turning to face Aurea, “I’m sorry for mistreating you all this time.”

“And?” Talum added.

“And you're not a burden to this team.”

“And?” Cendis added again.

“And I’ve been a hard headed jackass this whole time,” she snarled, “are you happy now?”

Aurea couldn’t help but giggle a little at that, “actually I was already happy with just the apology, but since you’re feeling so kind, maybe you could be the one to carry me through all those waters.”

Talem glared at her and for a moment that blue spark returned to her eyes, but it soon relented.

“Fine, I guess you deserve that much,” she sighed, and pushed herself up to her feet, “but I’m gonna want a rematch later.”

Aurea simply smiled.

“Any time you want.”

#fanfic #tales of the troll lands #trolls #dnd trolls #disaster troll trio #troll lore

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