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bored-platypus · 5 months

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Where There’s A Will…

i’ll figure a better title out later,,,

so uhh here’s my dimension/time travel will au for the january gathering assessment @rangergathering

Will wakes up slightly groggy, back aching from the hard floor underneath him. It’s only then does the panic set in as he stumbles to his feet, wincing in pain when his head throbs. Calm down, Halt murmurs in his memory. Assess your surroundings. Where are you? Why are you here?

Will can’t remember. His head hurts and his mind is racing, and his body is slow in a way that it hasn’t been since Skandia. Will swallows shallowly, taking deep breaths as he looks around. He’s underneath a tree, a few of his belongings scattered nearby, and Will breathes out a sigh of relief when he finds his recurve bow. The bow is nicked with familiar scratches, the string lightly frayed from use, and Will takes comfort in the fact. It’s also concerning, because whoever brought him here allowed him to keep his weapons.

Wherever Will is, he doesn’t recognize this section of the forest. His knives weigh comfortably against his hip as he unsheathes his saxe, turning it over in his hand. Focus, he thinks, and studies his surroundings. There’s nobody around. The forest is disturbingly quiet, which works in his favor and sets alarm bells ringing through his head because the only time a forest is quiet is when there’s something worse than the biggest predator.

He’s still in Araluen— his mind is not so muddled to not recognize the trees and soil composition, but Will hasn’t lost track of his whereabouts and his own self in years and it terrifies him beyond belief. He gathers the rest of his possessions and slips his hood on, marking the nearest tree with his knife.

Okay. Will has been through worse. He’s fine, even if he can’t remember what he was even doing before this. He briefly closes his eyes, then sets out, marking trees along the way. The sun has barely risen— the day is young and the light shines through the leaves, as if nothing has changed at all.

It’s been a few hours since he left his original position, and he’s found a creek, collected water, and finally, found human footprints. They lead toward a well-worn road, one Will still cannot recognize. Right. At least he’s found his way to civilization, and once his finds the local Baron, he’ll be on his way back home and they can figure out what happened to him. Will steps away from the path, making sure to stay hidden as he follows it down through the forest. He hasn’t stopped to eat food, unwilling to risk eating the food he found in his pack. Will had assumed he would run across some animal along the way, but— the birds are silent, and the forest is nearly devoid of game.

He frowns, tracing the ground with his eyes when an impression on the floor catches his attention. It’s big, almost bear-like, but off. It had stampeded through the forest, scaring most of the animals off. But there’s no sign of injury or blood, a tell-tale factor to that type of behavior in animals. Instead, the tree trunks are covered in a sticky, wax-like substance. Oh. Oh.

It was never a bear. Will takes a step back, as if it’ll bring any distance between the beast and him. For whatever reason, the Kalkara were back.

Will pulls an arrow from his quiver, carefully controlled. His hands are shaking, he distantly notes. Will had been through far worse than a Kalkara since he killed one, but the last time he had faced anything related to Morgarath— Will needs to find the nearest village, and he needs to do so quick.

Will finds himself in the village of Trenton a hour after finding the Kalkara tracks. It’s a quaint village, quiet and unassuming, and filled with an undercurrent of tension. And there, hung upon a bakery wall, a few houses, and a bar, is a red and black flag with a yellow lightning bolt running through the middle. It flaps in the wind, almost mockingly at him. Because Will knows what King Duncan’s flag is, and he knows what flag Morgarath once used.

He presses himself against an alleyway, glad for the shadows that provide a cover, because Will doesn’t think he can breathe. Well, he thinks hysterically, at least he knows why the Kalkara were back.

Are back. Because wherever he is, they never left. It’s 636 CE and Will is not safe, never will be safe here and he doesn’t even know what happened to the rest of the rangers. If they still existed. If Halt was still alive. Halt was pivotal to the First Araluen Civil War, wasn’t he?

If Morgarath had won here, then where was Halt?

The first thing he does is buy food, vaguely grateful the coins he has are still in circulation. He shouldn’t be out in the open, but it didn’t really matter here, did it? Nobody even knew he existed. Will had stuffed his ranger cloak into his pack and clipped his silver oakleaf into his inner pocket in an attempt to seem inconspicuous. It seemed to have worked, or at least given off the sense that he was some world-weary hunter looking for a job.

Will is pretty sure half of the village is looking at him with pity and the other half with suspicion but he can’t bring himself to care. Time travel, how did he even get here? He makes his way into a bar, sitting down near the corner, making sure the exit is in his peripheral. The server, a plump lady walks toward him, a friendly smile on her face.

“Here for a drink?” she asks, a look towards him. Will should probably put more effort into looking happier.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. He’s exhausted and drained and misses Alyss and Halt and everyone—

“It’s been a long day.” Will is pretty sure his smile looks painful. The woman hums sympathetically.

“You up for a warm bowl of soup? You look like you need something to wind down.”

He laughs, a little rough. “Yeah. That would be nice, thank you.” Will slides a copper coin towards her, and she takes it, making her way toward the kitchen. The bar is half empty, but it’s still early in the night. A few knights sit around drinking, and Will tears his eyes away, wincing at the symbol on their chest.

A few minutes later, the server returns with a hearty bowl of stew, smelling strongly of herbs and meat. Will nods his thanks, taking a long sip of the broth. The knights across the room are getting louder with alcohol in their system, slapping each other on the shoulder.

“I heard King Morgarath is planning on moving in on Clonmel! Ha, serves the cowards right for refusing a treaty. Knock ‘em right off their high horses once they see us.”

“They refused a treaty? I heard they can’t even keep their own royalty in line— King Ferris keeps Prince Halt locked up in the castle. Apparently Prince Halt attempted assassination on his own brother.”

“He’s still alive after attempting to kill the king? Psh, if one of King Morgarath’s tried to murder him, his majesty would have had him tortured and hanged.”

Will stands, pushing the bowl of stew as far as he can. No. It couldn’t be. Halt hated that place, but he wouldn’t go so far as to attempt murder on his own brother. For some reason, Halt had stayed in Clonmel. He was alive. His twin brother had apparently trapped him inside the castle, but at least he was still living.

Still living, in a way that would have killed Will’s Halt inside. This Halt, whoever he was, didn’t even know Will. Will was never his apprentice, and it wasn’t as if he could break into the king’s palace and what, get Halt out of there? Halt wouldn’t even trust him. There was nothing Will could do here— one man couldn’t fight against a whole army. And who would listen to him? He wasn’t a knight, he had no status, no reason to go running to Clonmel to warn them of Morgarath’s attack. They probably already knew.

Will is going to be sick. The knights are staring, probably because he just abruptly stood out of nowhere and is staring off into space. Mechanically, he picks the bowl up and drinks the rest of the soup, turning sharply and walking out, plans whirring in his head.

He ends up paying a few coins at an inn to stay the night, too tired to haggle a cheaper price with the innkeeper. He’s near silent as he walks along the streets, the path dimly lit by a few candles and knights making a night watch. All of a sudden, a child’s scream pierces the air, the sound of a struggle all too loud against Will’s ears.

The nearest knight looks up then away, because that’s a child, struggling against another knight who has a too-tight grip against the boy’s wrist. “Let me go!” the boy screams, high-pitched and terrified, the false bravado in his voice faltering under the fear.

The knight growls, grip tightening on the boy before throwing him to the ground, ignoring the whine of pain he makes. “You know what you did, return the money you stole,” the man threatens, foot pressing down on the boy’s back and Will sees red.

He’s moving, throwing knife in his hand and his saxe in the other, and then the knight is on the ground, whimpering in pain just as the boy had. The knight from before, the one who had ignored them all of a sudden notices the ruckus, drawing his sword and yelling furiously.

Will ducks, letting the man drive his own momentum and pushes him toward the ground, pinning him with a knife to the neck. “I suggest you gentlemen leave,” he says, and his hand is shaking and Will can’t. There’s a dull fury running through his bones and he’s so tired. He pushes off the man, picking the boy off the ground and stepping into the shadows, returning to the inn. It wasn’t exactly the best idea, but he had faith there was no way the knights could track him, and he would be gone by sunrise. The boy shifts in his arms, looking up at him suspiciously.

“Where are you taking me? Who are you?”

And oh, isn’t that just his luck. Because under a mop of blond-brown hair and a scrunched up face is Horace Altman, in all his eight-year-old glory.

Horace shifts under his scrutiny, looking away nervously. “I didn’t steal anything,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I swear I didn’t, I just wanted to see their swords and I know I shouldn’t have gotten close but—”

Horace falls silent when Will puts a hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair. “It’s okay,” Will says. “I believe you.” His stomach is turning, because Horace’s first reaction was to defend himself instead of ordering Will to bring him home, something his Horace would’ve done at this age. But here he was no ward at Castle Redmont.

"My name is—" Will pauses. Even if he had a younger self here, he wouldn't have the last name of Treaty. But it still felt wrong in a way, to take a name that would belong to another eight-year-old boy who would probably never get the chance to earn his last name the same way Will did.

"Treaty. What's yours?"

"Horace," the boy mumbles, then as he gains confidence, "Horace Altman. I have a last name, but uhm..."

He trails off, clearly ashamed. Another spark of fury runs through Will, and he keeps his face carefully blank. Horace had always been so proud of his family name, of who he was— perhaps sometimes to the detriment of Will's younger self, but there was something about the shame that set Will off. Horace should've never been afraid to proclaim who he was.

“We’re going to go back to my inn room and I’ll patch up your side and check your arm, then you can tell me where you live so I can drop you off, all right?”

Horace relaxes at his lack of outward reaction and nods, and then they're off.

okay so author’s notes + extra plot:

wow that was way more depressing than i actually planned it to be. i promise i didn’t make this purely so will was sad. the plot may have ran away from me.

oh gosh i feel so bad for the characterization. any concrit about will is greatly appreciated. i feel like i may have made him a bit too grim. sorry will. :(

ugh i forgot how long writing takes. why are there so many scenes i have to write before i get to the actual plot points i want to write about.

it has been 5-7 years since i read ra and please can anyone explain what will canonically knows about halt and clonmel because i do not remember and the wiki is not helpful 😭😭

uhh i basically made up morgarath's flag based on the cover of "the tournament at gorlan" because i'm pretty sure there's no canonical flag that he used

i have way more ideas and plot i have to flesh out, like if i’m gonna replace prince halt with ranger halt or not (because the angst potential is there)

but essentially i was gonna have will run around being a hyper-competent cool ranger helping people and basically being morgarath’s number one hater. hmm maybe have crowley locked up somewhere or in hiding, or gilan a disgraced knight for disagreeing with morgarath’s rule?

will will (teehee) definitely keep horace once he realizes horace is being mistreated. but will is probably not okay with putting like, a 8 year old in danger so idk where will would put horace once they set off. but it would be kind of funny to just have an army of disgraced, downtrodded people following will?

morgarath is probably going to be the same one from will’s world. yeah, that’s not gonna be pretty.

if anyone was looking forward to seeing will meet his tiny self, unfortunately tiny will is kind of dead. like, canonically, daniel’s wife was not gonna survive that assault while giving birth without halt.

also i find it funny that i have to defend the monarchy in this strange british-adjacent fantasy world. uhh we’ll see how it turns out.

#rangers apprentice #gathering assessment #what am i doing #i have not read ra in 5-7 years #but the hyperfixation holds tight #uhhh please excuse any inconsistencies #yep yep #ranger’s apprentice #will treaty #i'm kind of proud of this one #even if there's no way i can feasibly finish this #horace altman #ahahah maybe it'll appear on my ao3 one day when i get more motivation #fic ideas #my fics #where there's a will au

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coquelicoq · 3 months

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raksura for the ask meme?

YAY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) moon was designed in a lab to appeal to me personally, so. it's about the trust issues!

scrunkly (my "baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) the sky copper clutch!! traumatized children imprinting on a guy with baby fever is usually what i go to fanfic for so to have it right there in canon? incredible. i love all of frost's little tantrums and idk, just the way that she claims moon as her family in a way that has nothing to do with court politics? she's like, we're your clutch, obviously. and this is our court because it's your court, and all the other jabronis who live here are on thin ice. she's ready to throw down with moon's wife/the government at all hours of the day and she's like six years old. i love that moon has that energy in his life even though he personally is pretty confused and exhausted by it lol.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) it's hard out here for an ember stan because he is in so few scenes relative to the space he occupies in my psyche! i need 5000% more interactions between him and moon. him and stone. him and shade. him and river. him and the teachers. him and the clutches. him and jade and balm and chime. oh my god him and malachite? him and celadon? him and delin??

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) niran. i'm always up for a "longsuffering ship captain resigns himself to another restless night of hearing gigantic shapeshifters with incredible stamina fuck nasty on the roof of his cabin" moment. technically i have never been in that exact situation, but i feel like i can relate.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) river who is CLASSIC poor little meow meow territory like yes his whole personality is being a grade A asshole and sure he tries to kill my blorbo a few times, but once you get to know him he's so sad and pathetic that i'm kind of like okay where can i sign up to defend him from the largely factual aspersions of his dozens of quite frankly justified haters? he'd hate that. the good shit 👌

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) stone. every time he crankily says "why did i ever reproduce" upon finding himself entangled in yet another ridiculous clusterfuck thanks to one of his hundreds of idiot great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, an angel gets its wings. he's depressed and antisocial but he can't totally check out because he has to mediate relationship issues between his dumbass relatives. love that for him.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) malachite but specifically because malachite would not be scared of superhell. she'd skulk around being invisible, maybe fuck some shit up if she felt like it, and leave when she got bored. she probably makes it like. opal night's sister city or something. and nobody in the court is at all phased. yeah that's our reigning queen who recently got back from vacation in superhell. she does that. she says it's relaxing.

#yooo thank you for asking for this one!! i had already started thinking about it because river is like. plmms of all time for me #he's the platonic ideal of a plmm in my book #books of the raksura #asks #anon #every few months i check the ember ao3 tag to see if there are any new fics and there hardly ever are. but i live in hope #the moon-ember diplomatic attache tag team would be off the chain. it's all i would ever think about #ember was raised to be an imperial consort in a harem drama and he gets there and the empress is just like.#a deadly grizzly bear with no table manners who loves children and can't read and gets his feelings hurt really easily #moon tells him a bedtime story the second time they meet and ember is like #wow i love you. i'd die for you. if you'll be my bodyguard i can be your long-lost anger translator #a match made in heaven 🥰#meanwhile moon is picking up on none of this and is like. well i guess nobody's going to want me anymore now that they have #a REAL consort. he even knows how to pour tea. bastard. but i have to look out for him because he's so young and innocent. dammit #but if anyone actually needs to be looked out for in the cutthroat world of court politics it's moon. and ember is the one who can do that #i love the idea of indigo cloud needing moon to fulfill some diplomatic function and everyone knowing that the only way #to get him to agree is to send ember to point his big sad eyes at him #ember likes to hang out in moon's bower just dressing him up like a doll. moon submits to this with resigned forbearance #if anyone else tries it he bites off their entire head

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frownyalfred · 1 year

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the things we do for fics, I swear. I spent probably about 20 hours in the last month learning all about CSS and the limitations of text hover boxes and how they're not responsive unless you're in Java and now I have all this random, highly-specific knowledge about CSS tooltips floating around in my brain. I was a history major and I write smut for fun, like what am I doing here

#css #ao3 #anyway #if you want any tips on how to do hover text boxes #let me know #I have watched every single tutorial on youtube #I even got on github and all those sites #there's so much you can do with CSS #but also so much you really can't #personal #writing things #fic #myfic #theresurrectionist #this was all for the anons who gave good feedback on bloodletting being hard to read #I tried my best and the hover text now is the best I can do in CSS #I swear #I just hope you see this and know that I truly tried to solve it

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howtokillavampire · 8 months

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I wish to craddle every author of every fanfic I have ever read gently in my arms. I wish to cook them their favorite foods and shower them with material goods. I wish to comment encouragement on every chapter of every fic they have ever written. I wish to show them they are appreciated and cared for. I wish to give them the world.

#they have done more for me than any therapist could ever do #hundreds of hours in therapy didnt fix me nearly as much as hurt/comfort #even the angsty fics remind me a still have a heart and a soul capable of feeling pain and anguish #the bittersweet taste of the broken feelings piecing back together inside of my tired body #anyways #fanfic #fandom #ao3 #archive of our own #coldflash #superbat #hannigram #mcdanno #drarry #mattimir

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autistic-katara · 3 months

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there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

#i know i just posted that other thing but ffs that is NOT how u handle someone in that situation everyone involved made everything 10x worse #yet it’s being treated like the right thing to do (which again ofc they’re cops they don’t understand harm reduction but still) like #seriously everything’s so forceful like u seriously think forcing ur friend to talk to u or forcing a patient to talk to a therapist under #the threat of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital is gonna make her feel comfortable talking to u? or anyone? she’s just gonna trust u #less and get better at hiding it and speaking of which the taking away all sharp objects thing makes sense in theory but like think abt it #for a minute she confirmed she isn’t suicidal and this is her only way of coping so do not just forcibly take away all her coping mechanism #like yes she is hurting herself but it’s a COPING MECHANISM. she’s coping with something. help her with that don’t just take away her penci #sharpers or whatever (which btw since she’s an adult she could easily buy more stuff and yk learn to hide it better) which again has to be #voluntary it isn’t gonna work if u force someone to do smthn they don’t want to like as ur friend u could’ve made it clear u care abt her #and wouldn’t judge her for anything and r here if she wants to talk don’t just say “you have to talk to me” and casually threaten #hospitalisation when she isn’t ready in the moment like seriously if this wasn’t a badly written fanfic she would completely stop trusting #bcz given that this wasn’t even done out of panic i would like ffs u are NOT doing any of this right #oops sorry ranted abt the bad fic in my tags-#it’s not where the author’ll see it and know it’s about them i don’t feel bad abt it #this was my first time even looking at stuff for this fandom so #cw self harm in tags #idk if i need to tag anything else for that 😭#fanfic #ao3 #ryan shut the fuck up

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theflyingfeeling · 6 months

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💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia.

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him.

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him.

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet.

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself.

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

#blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #ollixallu #24 days of gift-giving by theflyingfeeling #<- that's the tag i'll be using for these btw #everyone stop and look at the banner!! 🥺💖#it's not QUITE like the original one ju made first but maybe one day you'll get to see that masterpiece as well 😏#but ooff the way i've gone from having 'a plan' to having 'a better plan' to having 'no plan whatsoever' with this? 😂#so yeah idk what kinda fics/posts there'll be in this series... stay tuned and see for yourself! 🤭#some of them might be in the same universe/plot. others may not. who knows? not i 😌#(...but as you can see from this fic the door for a multiple-part story is definitely open 👀)#some of the fics may not even be based on a prompt though if i'm not feeling like it. honestly i'm curious to see how this will turn out!#(and if this ends up being the only post i ever make that's alright too! i refuse to bully myself with a hobby i'm doing for free <3)#however: i'm not taking requests per say BUT feel free to snoop on the prompts for each day and send me your ideas or hopeful wishes 👀#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone #one could say i'm just going with the flow. fuck around and find out if you will ✨#also: not sure if/when i'll be bothered to post any of these on ao3 #probably i'll just see how many fics i manage to actually finish and dump them all at once on ao3 on christmas day lol #anyway! enjoy & let me hear from you <3

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everybodyshusband · 2 months

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it's healthy to go back and reread all the nice comments people have left on your writing i think :3

#this isn't a shitpost by the way i'm serious #i'm phrasing it like a shitpost because haha feelings cringe or whatever but genuinely it's giving me such an incredible boost #both in my general mood but in my belief in my writing skills too #you're all so kind and i appreciate every single comment you guys leave on my fics whether that's on ao3 or in the tags on tumblr #but yeah seriously going back and rereading compliments people have left on your writing is good for your mental health so go do that #and readers please write comments if you can !!! on any and all fics you enjoy !!#even a “💙” or a “loved this !!” is enough to make my day and boost my confidence and i know it's exactly the same for most writers #i'm feeling sappy and very appreciative of you all and i'm making it everyone's problem can you tell sdfjhbsdkf #anyway i'm going to continue reading and replying to comments then do some work and then come back and do some writing #because yay !! the motivation is sparked through nice comments and lovely people ehehe >:)#husband rambles #these tags are LONG i'm sorry O_O

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torchiiko · 1 year

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someone needs 2 start writing gumshoe x readers or im gonna starve 2 death !!!!!!!!! wheres the active aa x reader blogs. why isnt anyone requesting gumshoe. do i have to do everything myself here

#im goijg thru withhdrawal over here #i think i may have actually read every x reader i cant find any new ones . let me Kiss the Detective PLEASE #hhhrhhrrggh theres only 6 fics on ao3 btw. 2 of them are unfinished. 2 are smut. 1 is from an inactive aa x reader blog #the other is also an x reader compilation but theres only 2 chapters and gumshoe isnt even in it #do u understand my predicament #im . im on the verge of making y/n art with this guy. im gonna draw my sona witj him. Guys #detective gumshoe #dick gumshoe #ace attorney #torch chatter #real simping hours #🔍 detective himbo - dick gumshoe 🔍

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ifyougoillfollow · 1 year

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as we sink into the open sea

M/F, Gen | QPR MicNight | 1720 words | Selkie AU CW: Depiction of Suicide Attempt (non-graphic)

On the eve of his nineteenth birthday, Yamada Hizashi walks into the ocean and comes back with a wife.

Please understand, that wasn't his intention. Yamada Hizashi is not the kind of man to believe in tales of sirens and sea wives, and he is especially not the kind of man with dreams of snaring one for himself. He is, in point of fact, not a man of any dreams at all. Not anymore.

So he walks into the ocean, figuring that if he can't find the will to keep dreaming, then he can at least find some peace at last. He finds a wife, instead.

Or rather, she finds him.

She finds him as his body hits the sea floor, at the very moment the first wave of doubt rolls over him in one fell, unrelenting swoop, much too late for him to do anything about it. He's so overcome with it he doesn't think much of the figure that glides out of the ocean murk and sidles right up to him. Wide, shark-bright eyes peer at him, so close they fill up his entire swimming, pin-pricking vision, and all Hizashi can think about is how soon he's going to die, and how he’s not so sure he wants to die after all, and how little what he wants matters in this final moment, as in all the rest before it, and then the figure places one cold hand on his colder cheek and kisses him. She's all Hizashi can think of, then.

She's dark-haired and beautiful. And strong. And a good swimmer, too, but that's to be expected. She drags him back to shore, lips locked tight over his the whole way, and she doesn't let go until his lungs are clear of ocean brine.

Hizashi lies there, alive and silent on the cold, wet sand for a good while after. Long enough for the first hint of morning blue to blush over the horizon. The sea maiden lies with him, just as alive, just as silent, and infinitely more at ease. Cozied right up to his side, as if she belongs there, seemingly content to remain there for however long Hizashi has left on this Earth now that she's saved him. Try as he might, he can't figure out whether he's grateful or not. He does, however, remember his manners, on occasion, so when he finally finds his voice again, he uses it to thank her.

"You're welcome," the sea maiden replies. There's laughter in her voice. Hizashi doesn't know what there is to laugh about, though he finds himself wishing she'd actually done so, just so he could hear it. He used to love laughter. Impossibly, he still does.

Yamada Hizashi had a knack for making people laugh, once. It was all he knew how to do, really. He doesn't know much of anything now, least of all how to make the sea maiden in his arms laugh, so he says nothing.

The sea maiden in his arms says nothing either, at first, for just long enough Hizashi startles when she does speak: "Is that it?"

"Pardon?"

"Is that all you're going to say?"

"... Is there more I should be saying?"

"There must be." There it is again – the laugh in her voice. "You don't strike me as the quiet type in the least."

That's what it is – she's teasing him. It's much too familiar to do anything but rankle. "Listen, Miss –”

She snorts. "Nemuri."

"Listen –” his face burns as he realizes that's her given name, and he refuses to say it "– listen, I'm grateful to you for saving me and all, but you don't know anything about me."

She peels away from his side. "Liar."

"Pardon?"

"You're not grateful at all," she grunts through an impressive stretch, current-strong arms flung upward and out towards the heavens. She's wearing a sealskin cape and nothing else, and is so unembarrassed by it Hizashi can't muster up any on her behalf. She winks at him. "But you will be," she adds. Then: "Take off your clothes."

"Pardon?"

This time she does laugh – seagull-like – loud and sharp and to the point. "Well, I don't know much about land folk, but it's my understanding you don't handle being wet all that well."

Hizashi wraps his arms around himself, scowling. "I'll be fine."

"Suit yourself."

The sea maiden stands – or at least tries to. She heaves herself upward in a motion that would probably be fluid underwater, then loses her balance, toppling backwards onto the sand, rump first. The sight of her glaring down at her legs is almost enough to pull a laugh out of Hizashi.

"Stupid things," she grumbles, kicking up sand.

Hizashi does laugh, then, which is a mistake. The sea maiden stands, suddenly sure-footed in her indignation, and uses her newfound mastery over her lower appendages to kick sand in his direction.

Hizashi cannot stop laughing. He laughs until his new companion loses interest in burying him under sand. He laughs until the sun finally frees itself from under the weight of the horizon. He laughs until he almost forgets he just tried to kill himself.

When he's all laughed out, the sea maiden is still there. Sitting across from him, hands and feet planted firmly in the sand, peering at him with a smile so dry it's a wonder she doesn't hail from land herself.

Without a word, she stands again, solid and steady, all remaining traces of sea legs gone, and hauls Hizashi to his own significantly less steady feet. While he's still reeling from... all of it – the strength of her hands around his, the seafoam-salt smell of her filling his impossibly pumping lungs, the laughter still clanging through every hollow part of him – the sea maiden takes her sealskin cape and drapes it over Hizashi's shoulders.

It's soft and musky and so warm it feels more alive than he does, but, most of all, it's heavy.

Hizashi tries to shrug it off. "Thanks," he says stiffly, "but I said I'm fine."

"I heard you," says the sea maiden, rearranging the cape around him.

"I don't need it."

"I know."

She fastens the cape closed around his neck, patting his chest firmly. It's so long it covers Hizashi all the way down to his shins. On her, it must have just brushed over the sand at her feet. The uncanny warmth of it doesn't seep even as the seafront breeze hits it, makes it flap and flutter around him in a heavy, even bump-bump, bump-bump beat. Nothing could ever hope to reach him past that beat and that warmth.

"I don't want it, either," he lies, because he has to, because he's never known what to do in the face of so much want, because he's always wanted too many things, and he's wanted them too much.

"Neither do I," says the sea maiden, breezy as the morning. "Maybe we should leave it here, lying around. I'm sure no one else would find it, if we hid it well enough."

Hizashi blanches at the thought. He may not be the kind of man to believe in tales of sea wives, but he has heard enough of them to be wary of the kind of man who does. He fumbles for the clasp at the base of his throat. "Just take it back. Go home."

"Hm, I don't think so." She sidesteps his attempts to foist the cape back onto her, walking away backwards, hands clasped behind her head. "I think I'll stick around here for awhile. Explore the land realm. It seems exciting."

Hizashi chases after her, cape held out like a net. "It isn't."

She twirls away again. "Liar."

"It's too exciting, then. Dangerous."

"So is the ocean – didn't stop you from walking into it."

"That was –" Hizashi falters, loses his footing "– different," he finishes lamely, hands fisted in the sand-soiled cape caught under his knees.

The sea maiden stands over him. "You're right," she says, "that was different – I'm not going into this trying to die. I'd say that alone makes my odds of survival look pretty swell, don't you think?"

Hizashi stares up at her, looming tall against the dawn sky, so tall she dwarves the rising sun itself, and has no doubt she'd survive even the drying of all seven seas if it meant she got to live.

"You're naked," he says, because he's running out of arguments, and the will to keep making them.

"I wouldn't be if you gave me your clothes,” she shoots back, “I gave you mine, didn't I? It would only be fair."

The cape is velvet-smooth as Hizashi slides it out from under himself, warmer still from the heat of his body and the sun-washed sand, which slides off of it like ocean spray from mossy seaside cliffs. His sea maiden – Nemuri – takes it from him and helps him back to his feet. She folds it over her arm, as if merely holding on to it for the moment, and arches an expectant eyebrow at him.

Sighing, Hizashi shrugs off his coat. "Yes,” he relents, “I suppose it would only be fair."

On the dawn of his nineteenth birthday, Yamada Hizashi walks into town with nothing but a sealskin cape on his back and a wife.

Or so the townsfolk like to tell it, because the townsfolk love a good fairy tale romance almost as much as they love to pity him. In time, they will come to pity him even this moment and his sea-wild wife, as outrageous as she is beautiful, as the very ocean itself, and Yamada Hizashi will do what he has always done in the face of undue pity, which is to laugh in it and continue loving whoever and whatever he loves, in whichever way he sees fit.

But that will come later. For now, in the rosy light of a dawn he never planned to see, Hizashi walks into town beside Nemuri, the sea maiden who saved his life – the woman who will be called his wife and be so much more – and is content enough to have finally figured out he’s grateful, even if he has yet to figure out much else. The rest will follow, he’s sure, in good time and – even better – good company.

#yamada hizashi #present mic #kayama nemuri #midnight #micnight #qpr micnight #i wrote a thing #mermay #cw: suicide #it feels weird adding such a heavy content warning given that this is not a heavy story overall but better safe than sorry #anyway surprise mermay fic everyone!#it's me i'm everyone #this fic blindsided me ngl but i quickly grew obsessed with it and needless to say i got Lore #lore that i refused to even hint at in the fic because i Do Not need any more long form wips and i do love me a good one-shot #but who knows maybe one day i'll revisit this au i do so love it #also decided to post the whole fic here instead of just doing my usual ao3 link thingy because i recently locked my fics to registered user #-only because of the whole ai fuckery going around lately which y'know sucks #but this way anyone who wants to read it but doesn't have an ao3 account can do so through here so hopefully that helps #anyway #enjoy loves <3

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