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nthspecialll · 19 days

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I think we sometimes as a fandom tend to hyper-focus on certian characters' backgrounds simply because we like the character when in reality other characters who might not be as interesting has way better backstories, because no, Javier, Arthur and John are not the only ones with sad backstories

Like why does no one talk about what happened to Leopold's sister? Why does no one talk about young Lenny tracking down and killing folk? Why does no one talk about Javier actually in a way working for the government for a while and the reason why he killed that powerful military man? Why does no one talk about why Dutch is called Dutch and not by his actual first name? Why does no one talk about Bill's worst childhood fear coming true? Why does no one talk about both Swanson and Micah saving Dutch's life or that Tilly is also a murderer?

Anyways here is a full explanation of all the Van Der Linde gang members backstories.

Sean MacQuire

Sean Macquire and his father lived in Ireland possibly with more family but had to flee because the English (who were at the time in charge of ireland) were chasing them. They fled for their lives and they were in Boston for a month before his dad was shot in his sleep, showing the remaining Sean that there was truly no honor or shame in the world.

He was then sent to a reform school, which we all know was abusive and a living hell, so he ran, living as a low-life thief, he was a teenager, when he in a bar somewhere in North Elizabeth saw Dutch and Hosea and liked Dutch's watch. He followed the two into an alleyway and threatened them at gunpoint, however they laughed at him and told him to shoot, so he did, except the two others had noticed him first and took the bullets from his gun. Sean started crying, thinking they were going to kill him but instead of doing that they gave him a home, a place to belong.

Lenny Summers

Lenny's grandparents as well as parents were slaves and his mother was born on a cotton field and taken away from his grandmother, who hadn't even known she was pregnant, immediately. His grandmother was then told to simply get back to work.

After the civil war, the old overseer kept making advandages towards Lenny's grandmother, to a point that in the end she needed to kill him and just barely escaped being lynched. Lenny's mother never saw the grandmother again.

Lenny's mother later met Mr Summers who was an educated man and taught Lenny to both read and write, however wehn Lenny was 15, his dad was beaten to death by several drunk men. Lenny stole a gun, tracked and hunted down the men, shooting them and showing no remorse even years later.

Kieran Duffy

Kieran Duffy's father was an Irishman who came to America with a dream of farming. It was there that he met Kieran's mother and not long after having Kieran, they both passed due to Cholera and not shortly after that the stables that he worked at to support himself threw him out. He decided to join the army to support himself but it didn't last long before he quit due to it "not working out well."

After returning from the army, he fell into work with a bunch of unnamed outlaws, though they all passed away, leaving him alone once again.

At some point he ran into the O'Driscolls who gave him a choice, to ride with them or to get killed, esencially forcing him to join them and work as a stable hand for them, though he was at the bottom of the latter simply working with the horses before being kidnapped by Arthur Morgan and joining the Van Der Linde gang.

Leopold Strauss

Leopold Strauss was born into severe poverty in Austria and his family struggled heavily with food. By the time that Strauss was only twelve, his older brother was beating up nightwatch men for whatever cash and food scraps they had on them. By that time Strauss's father had already sold his younger sister Anna, by the age of nine, into bonded labour to be able to provide for the rest of the family.

When Stauss was seventeen he was sent with his uncle to the US due to health problems, however the hellish sight of Brooklyn gave Strauss's uncle a heart attack on the spot, leaving Strauss alone in a forgein country. To survive he began doing illegal money scams and after doing so for years Dutch picked him up.

Tilly Jackson

Tilly Jackson was the daughter of a slave and became an outlaw by the mere age of twelve, running with a gang called the Foreman brothers who kidnapped her but after murdering the leaders cousin after he made advandages on her, she had to flee. She returned to her mothers workplace but found that she had already passed.

Later Tilly ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and as he was already taking care of John Marston and Arthur Morgan, he took her in, becoming just as much as a father figure to her as to the boys.

Micah Bell

Micah Bell was born directly into a life of crime as his father Micah Bell jr was a petty but ruthless and violent outlaw. Already when Micah was 17 him and his father were on run from the law as they had slid Jean and Roscoe Briggs throats and later hung them as well. His father was also his primary partner in crime, however he also seemed to have teamed up with his brother Amos a few times as well, however Amos regretted his past life and started a proper one with wife and children and threatened to kill Micah if he came close.

Micah had several partners in crime later in life, including Joe and Cleet who appears later in the game, as well as a fellow named Norman.

Micah runs into Dutch Van Der Linde in 1898 in a bar as Dutch is trying to sell some stolen goods, however the deal doesn’t work out and Micah steps in to help Dutch and save his life, earning a place in the gang.

Bill Williamson

Bill Williamson, also known as Marion Williamson, was born into an abusive family with a father who lost his mind to alchohol, even going to the point of mixing moonshine with whiskey. Watching this Bill always feared falling in love with liquor and suffering the same fate.

Bill always showed signs of being more of a troubled kid and being sent to a reform school did not stop him from building s solid criminal record as a kid.

Bill would later apply to the military and serve in the 15th infantry, fighting against the native americans before being dishonorably discharged for deviancy and attempted murder in 1892. For a year after he lived rough, truly falling in love with liqour and stealing from people om the side of the roads, one time being robbed himself by a "woman" (likely a cross dresser or genderqueer person).

In 1893 Bill tried to rob Dutch and got angry as the man simply laughed at him, however he calmed down as he was allowed a spot in the Van Der Linde gang.

Daniel "Dutch" Van Der Linde

Dutch's mother was an english woman named Greta and his father a dutch man who lived somewhere near Philadelphia who fought in the civil war and died, which is why Dutch hated southeners.

Dutch's nickname rumors to come from his father's desperate attempt at keeping touch with his ancerstory.

When he was 15, he left home due to troubles with his mother whom he never got along with and simply saw him as a disobedient and troubled kid. He wished for freedom above all so to gain this he started a life of crime and in mid 1870 met Hosea Matthews.

Hosea Matthews

Hosea was born in around 1844 and lived the majority of his earlier life in the mountians, growing to love fishing and hunting. His father was mostly absent, living a life of "sin and debauchery that would make an emperor blush." Hosea saw his dad only about three times in his life but loved him none the less.

He tried to make his way with comedy as a stage actor, however he turned to petty thieft, stealing from his audience and later others in town. He was caught by the sheif stealing a chicken and sentenced to be hanged. Luckiy for Hosea the town folk saw it as a punishment too cruel and a riot broke out which ended with someone shooting the noose around Hosea's neck, allowing him to flee.

Mid 1870 Hosea found Dutch sitting by a campfire and decided to rob him, however found that Dutch had already robbed him. Hosea feared for a moment for his life but it ended with the two of them laughing it off and teaming up.

Molly O'Shea

Molly O'Shea was born into a wealthy Irish family, set up to live a proper and educated life, however she quickly got bored and showed little interest in the life set up for her, so she ran off to America in search of adventure and excitment. At some point she ran into Dutch Van Der Linde and found an interest in him and his life style, only to later genuiently fall in love with him.

Arthur Morgan

Arthur Morgan was born to Beatrice and Lyle Morgan in northen US. His mother died in his early life and he never really got along with his father whom there are rumors was abusive. Lyle lived a life of petty crime and was arrested and executed. Arthur saw his father die and although not having the best relationship, Arthur kept his father's hat and picture.

In 1877 Arthur was 14 and a wild delinquent. He ran into Dutch and Hosea, being picked up and taken under their wing, taught not only the ways of crime but also skills like reading, writing, hunting and so on.

Uncle

Uncle was born in Ohio (insert Penelope Braithwaithe shutter) with the only family present being his parents who died when he was nine and an "uncle" named Jeb whom Uncle hints at being a pedofile.

After his parents death he was on his own and was forced to a new city where he had to care for himself, and from that time to the game start in 1899, we know he has been married at least twice.

Uncle tells many stories of his past such as going to Africa and being worthshipped like a god by the locals, however the truth of these stories are highly doubted due to his tendency to lie. He does tell stories of being a "one shot kid" in his younger days, the truth of these also being doubted, however it may have been his tricket into the Van Der Linde gang.

Susan Grimsaw

Along with Hosea, Dutch and Arthur Susan was one of the founding memebers of the Van Der Linde gang, having run into Dutch during a poker game where both he and she found interest in one another, causing the curious couple and their unruly son to stay in the area a bit longer, paying poker long into the night while Susan sat on Dutch's lap.

Having gotten into a romantic relationship with Dutch, Susan was allowed to join the small group and even stayed when Dutch moved on to Annabelle, now serving as a form of housemother, making sure that people did their work, took properly care of themselves and made camp feel like home.

You can also hear Susan talking to Mary-Beth one time in camp, admitting that she had a fiance once however he went to heaven.

John Marston

John Marston was born in 1873 to an illiterate scottish father born on the boat to New York and a prositute mother who died during his birth. At first John lived with his father who constantly spoke of Scotland and his love for the country, however he was blinded in a bar fight south of Chicargo and later died when John was eight. The true cause of his father's death is unknown however John was told it was a barfight.

John spent a few years in an orphanage before running off and living on his own, at the mere age of eleven commiting his first murder by shooting a man, though he claims it was not his fault.

At the age of twelve John had been caught stealing from homesteaders who planned to have him hanged, however Dutch stepped in and took him under his wing.

Orville Swanson

Swanson used to wrok as a Clergyman but after indulging in the "earthly pleasures", being seduced by alchohol and sex, he lost his family, job and in the end faith, though he desperately tried to regain it.

At some point or another he fell in love with a woman named Margaret, though she was already married, so he simply added bigamy to the list of sins he had already commited. When the two of them were in San Fransisco, the law finally caught up wth them and while she fled onto a ship headed for Shanghai he was stuck and never saw her again.

Under unknown circomstances Swanson came to save Dutch's life and due to Dutch's debt to Swanson he was allowed to join the gang.

Mary-Beth Gaskill

Being a woman of good nature, Mary-Beth did not struggle getting close to her victims after having found herself needing to find a living in the streets. Due to her looks and personality she could with ease fool the richer men into thinking they were saving a poor maiden in need while her fingers slipped into their pockets.

It was through this that Mary-Beth got in trouble with not just the law but her victims as well. One night she had gotten a few foul men on her tail that she ran into the Van Der Linde gang who saved her and asked her to join them.

Charles Smith

Charles Smith was born to a Native Mother and a free African American father, all three of them living fairly happily with his mothets tripe together with a few other free men before the US army chased them away.

They continued to live together but a few years later Charles' mother was captured by the army, leading Charles' father to fall into alcoholism and a deep depression.

At the mere age of 13 Charles left his father and began to live on his own, becoming a supreme survivalist from an early age.

Some point during the late 1898 ran into the Van Der Linde gang in the Grizzlies and joined them.

Simon Pearson

Simon Pearson's family were whale hunters and although Pearson wished to follow in their footsteps it did not go that way due to the whale industry having lessened by the time that he got out of school. Having been forced to look for new employment options, Pearson joins the Navy where he even managed to get stranded for fifty days on a ship filled with plauge, watching his friends and coworkers slowly drop one by one.

After having returned from the Navy Pearson begins to struggle financially and takes a loan, however unable to pay it off loansharks comes after him and it is during one of these attempts at getting to Pearson that the Van Der Linde gang saves him and brings him to camp as a cook.

Abigail Marston

Abigail Marston, originally born Abigail Roberts, was orphaned at a young age and started roaming around bars, scraping whatever few coins she could take from folk before starting a work of prostitution, making an earning by selling her body and at some point running into Uncle at a bar who introduced her to the gang.

Now living with the gang, Abigail still worked as a prositute up until falling pregnant with Jack Marston by John Marston.

Josiah Trelawny

Josiah Trelawny was born in England though he has no memories of his life there, he later imigated to America where he starts working as a conman and trickster. It was during this line of work that he met yhe Van Der Linde gang and joined them bur with a special advandage as he, unlike the others, was allowed to appear and disappear as he pleased, always knowing when Dutch planned to cut him off and return with a big hit.

Josiah has a family living in Saint Denis concisting of a wife and two sons named Tarquin and Cornelius. Just as with the gang, he would disappear on them for months.

Karen Jones

Karen Jones lived as a scam artist in her early years and absolutely loved the outlaw lifestyle and hoped for a bit more which partly drove her to accept the Van Der Linde gang's invitation, hoping to achieve more.

Javier Escuella

Javier Escuella was born in Mexico to a drunkard father who worked for Allende' (a main antagonist in rdr1, a military man) uncle. When he was young he saw his own uncle as well as four other separate men get casterated and fed to pigs for simply suggesting fair wages for their work.

Javier moved on to become a violent and known bounty hunter and revolutionary, fighting against what he saw as a corupt system.

Javier ended up killing a powerful former military man for a woman that he loved, fearing for his loved ones life he fled to America where he knew no english and had no work or food, leaving him starving.

It was in America that he ran into Dutch as they both were trying to steal the same chickens. Dutch took Javier in, fed him, gave him a family and a life, leading Javuer to idiolize Dutch also for his revolutionary ideals.

At some unknown point someone attempted to kill Javier, leading to him having a prominent scar on his throat.

Sadie Alder

Sadie Alder grew up in a harsh envioment and from a very early age learned how to hunt and ride to care for herself, things that Jack Adler fell in love with. The two of them married september 1896, moving to a ranch in Ambarino where they had three happy years of marriage before the O'Driscolls arrived at their cabin.

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strang3lov3 · 7 days

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Holy fuck! Not one, but TWO milestones to celebrate!

Sometime in April I hit 5000 followers and I was gonna celebrate then, but with my one year fic anniversary gbu899i (< my cat Gizmo typed this, we're leaving it here. Everyone wave to him) and mostly because the end of the semester right around the corner, I decided to wait until May in order to give this the attention it deserves. Here we are! May 10th marks one year of me writing fic here on tumblr, and I want to celebrate both achievements.

Your support has played such a vital role in making writing such a gratifying hobby of mine. Whether you’ve been here since I started writing a year ago or just recently stumbled across my blog, it means the world to me. Having people read, like, reblog, comment, and engage with my fics is beyond fucking incredible. You keep me inspired to keep writing.

It’s not easy for me to stick to a hobby for a year. Ask the 20% finished afgan I started knitting two years ago that hasn’t been touched in months!! It’s beyond cool to have both a date on the calendar and such a pretty number to reflect how hard I’ve worked, and neither the date nor the number would be possible without you. Thank you 🩷

So we’re gonna celebrate. I haven’t done one of these before, unless you count the time I hit 2000 followers and said “send me requests!” and then did just one of them and zero others because I was so overwhelmed. So we’re taking a slightly different approach this time…

I’m thinking an extended sleepover, lol. Depending on how many participate, for a week or so you can send me asks from the prompts below and we’ll have some fun with them.

@noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal heavily inspired these choices with their recent follower celebrations 🩵

🐈‍⬛ Show and tell - send me pics of your pets, or Pedro if you don’t have any pets, brownie points for Kieran Culkin pics, or anything else that you love. And tell me all about it, and I’ll show you something I love! 👯‍♀️ I want to get to know each other better, so tell something about yourself or ask something about me. If you want, you can use this and this (⬅️ two send an emoji posts) for prompts 🏞️ Request a Moodboard (my favorite) I love doing moodboards, just tell me what you wanna see and I’ll do my best. 🗳️Send me a poll that you wanna see! Ask any question, let us all decide the answer. 🍆 Send me your dirty horny old man headcanons. I’m a horndog for some old men and I can’t change who I am. 📖 Send me your own writing (or another’s work that you love) I actually have a summer reading project where I’ve tagged each and every one of my mutuals to send me their own works for me to read all summer. So consider this just an extension of that- please send me the links to works you’ve written and/or works you’ve read and enjoyed so that I can enjoy them too and support fellow writers ✍️ 🩷 I enjoy just about anything, but I have a soft spot for dark/dub-con, masturbation, uhhhh anything hot and dirty like that. 👩‍💻Request some writing. I can do Joel, Roman Roy, and I’m maaaybe feeling brave about Frankie. @beefrobeefcal has dibs on my first Frankie fic anyway. Horny and debauched thots encouraged, dare I suggest dark as well? Fluff too, though I think I suck balls at writing it. I’ve been told I should do drabbles,,, that’s not really how I roll with my writing but I’m willing to try. It’s entirely possible and actually likely you’ll get a full length fic, in which case, it’ll take some time to get those done so bear with me. Depending on how many requests for writing I get, I may cut off requests at a certain point too. *It’s also possible I won’t jive with your idea, in which case please don’t feel bad. I only want to write something I feel I can do well, and if I can’t, that’s not on you.

GOD I am a rambler. I could have said so much less. But I hope to hear from some of you all and have some fun! Love you love you love you.

Tagging some friends, readers, and mutuals who’ve made writing what it is for me 🩷 I love you all @ievutebebe @pinkypromisepascal @yazsos @heartfairy @magpiepills @medellintangerine @merz-8 @bitchesuntitled @theweedisasterxoxo @covetyou @theywhowriteandknowthings @futuraa-free @smok3r7 @toxicanonymity @atticrissfinch @xdaddysprincessxx @whatsnewalycat @addictedtotlou @littlevenicebitch69 @marisferasiop @joelsgreys @just-some-random-blogger @ghostlovesbaguettes @sweetenerobert @swiftiegirliepop @joeloverture @dorims @munsonhoneybaby @umnitsa @nostalxgic @yazsos @rainbowcosmicchaos @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @starry-eyes-love @paleidiot @bluecookies-and-ink @beardedjoel @aestheticisinq @corazondebeskar @axshadows @kyloispunk @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bean-is-reading @pedroshotwifey @casa-boiardi @knittingandfanfics @molt3ngold @worhols @iknowisoundcrazy @nostalxgic @pattwtf @cerridwen007 @corozondebeskar @blackmetalamazon @jazzysnazzys @sheepdogchick3 @alltheseperfectimperfections @mermaidgirl30

#````erdstrang3lov3 #<<another thing my cat typed #he loves apostrophes #strang3lov3 celebration #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy smut #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader

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infamous-if · 1 year

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would u be willing to post seven's internal monologue?? pretty please just for us??? 😳

So sorry I don't mean to write all my characters with such sad internal monologues that's just what I tend to gravitate to 😢 hope it's not a problem

I shouldn’t be here.

That thought follows them outside the car. It follows them down the street. To the Heavenly Isle lot. To the entrance. To the dancing crowd.

Their logic is practically yelling at them to turn around by the time they’re becoming one with the audience, shouldering dancing bodies as they maneuver through the human current, keeping one eye on the stage. The singer of the band on stage belts out lyrics to their song, baring their soul as they relay a love letter to an unrequited love, Annabelle. The subject of the track.

Seven clears their throat, oddly uncomfortable, before finding a relatively empty spot in the crowd.

Seven’s bandmates join them a moment later, crowding around the circular standing table by the edge of the crowd. Seven senses a few eyes on them. They brace themself for someone to ask for an autograph, even a picture, but loosen up when no one does. Good. Let them be a ghost. Let their image disappear. Let them cease to exist. Just for this one night.

They just need this one night.

“Why are we here?” Pope whines, going as far as stomping his feet. “We ditched a rager to watch BOTB auditions? We already won.”

Seven stares ahead, expression unchanging as the singer dives into a bridge full of confession and regret. It was just last week they were up on that very stage, auditioning for the chance of a lifetime, singing lyrics just as raw. Just as vulnerable.

Oddly enough, Seven wasn’t even half as nervous then as they are tonight.

“It’s good to get to know our competition,” Seven replies, surprising themself with how casual they sound. It’s funny, really. There’s nothing casual about their appearance tonight.

They feel eyes on them and they meet Avina’s gaze, who shoots a pointed look at the table. Seven looks down, finding that their hand is tapping relentlessly against it. They turn it into a fist, shoving it in the pocket of their plaid shirt, hating how observant their friend is.

“Our competition?” Keiran asks, doing a perusal himself. “When did you become so”—they make a vague gesture with their hands—“involved?”

Seven clenches their jaw. “Is it a crime to want to win? If you want to slack off this competition, be my guest, but you’re not doing it in this fucking band.”

Kieran’s brows lift.

Seven shuts their eyes. “Sorry, that—“ They huff. “I didn’t mean that.”

Pope shoots Seven an odd look. “Why are you—“ Even beneath the dimly lit mezzanine that shakes with the weight of the dancers, Seven can see the dawn of their realization clearly. “Oh. Oh. I get it now.”

“Get what?” Kieran prompts, whipping his head back and forth in search of an answer. “Get what? What?”

“Seven didn’t come here to scope out the competition.” A teasing smile grows on his face. “Well, they did. One competitor in particular.”

Seven shuts their eyes as Kieran lets out a child-like ‘ohhhhh.’

“Pope,” Avina sighs out, staring at Seven with a trace of worry on their face. Which makes it worse. “Stop it.”

Pope raises his hands in surrender. Kieran has enough decency to pat Seven supportively on the back.

“The pain we reap. The lives we seek. Would you bury me with the rest of your past misdeeds?”

Seven looks around, soaking in the dancing crowd. Are they listening? Truly listening? Do they resonate with the pain of the singer?

Do they care?

That’s one of Seven’s biggest problems as an artist; having to deal with the fact that sometimes a song is just a song. That for Seven, it could be their whole heart on a track. And for others it could just be another three minutes to escape.

Seven briefly wonders if they watched their performance. Would they have listened to the lyrics Seven wove in the quietest hours of the night, catered specifically for them? Would they have understood?

Seven clears their throat, shaking away the thoughts just as Donny, the host, comes up on stage. The next few minutes melt together in a blur of cheering and conversations Seven hardly hears.

Because they’re there. Right there. And Seven has lost all grip on reality. Any sense of self. For a moment, it almost feels like a dream.

If only they cared a little less.

They feel an arm on them and look up to see Avina smiling. “Howdy, partner.”

Seven faces ahead, watching as (MC) and the band takes their places on stage. Their eyes track MC’s every move, as though MC is in danger of disappearing. Isn’t that what they did the first time? “Hi,” they say finally.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Avina says. The lights dim, signaling the start of the song. “You can just leave.”

“I know,” Seven clears their throat, “but I can’t.”

Avina says nothing to that, instead choosing to face ahead. Pope and Kieran come closer, whispering to each other as the first notes of the song start.

MC’s voice is just as Seven remembered. Smooth. Hypnotizing. They hate that it still gives them chills. Hate that MC still has that kind of power over them and their body.

As the crowd becomes increasingly excited, Seven’s will to stay weakens. The lyrics are too close. Too real and watching MC up there cuts a bit too deep. Seven wants to care a little less? No—they don’t want to care at all. They wish they could wash MC off them like filth. Strip memories of their scent, forget the way they laugh, strike out every memory with a marker like some failed lyric in one of their notebooks. Just erase it all until there’s nothing left.

And it’s in that moment, while Seven is thinking up every twisted metaphor, that MC notices them.

A stifled sound they didn’t know they could make crosses their throat. MC eyes pierce through them as if Seven were made of glass. That’s surely how they feel right now—delicate and liable to break.

MC’s voice pitches upon the realization and they look around, as if to check if anyone noticed. No one does. But Seven did. Seven always does.

It’s then that Seven answers their own question. If you heard my song, would you understand? They know MC would, because this is not just music to them. Their songs used to be another language. It was the way they laughed, the way they knew what the other was thinking with one kiss. The way they touched and danced and did nothing at all under the pulsing lights of the stars on their mom’s roof.

And it’s all gone.

“This was a mistake,” Seven whispers to Kieran, hating how choked their voice sounds. Despite their earlier humor, Kieran remains grave when they nod.

Seven doesn’t have to say anything else. Their friends know instantly. Just like what Seven had with MC, they have their own language. This is how it is—you move on by finding something else. By burying the past with the Seven they killed the night they decided to leave.

Seven gives themself ten seconds. Ten seconds to allow themselves to feel. Then, once the ten seconds are up, they imagine themself scribbling this moment out like a song in a journal, doing so dark enough that even the most painful moments can’t been seen under the messy wall of black.

They turn around and walk through the crowd. They don’t look back.

#Just like Rowan's this is quite long #once again pls excuse typos or any awkward sentences #i only do one draft of drabbles #seven lawless #drabble #POV drabble #seven's pov #i should be correcting errors #haha

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sparkingcircuits · 2 months

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some doodles i made of my silly little au i had thought about + some extra thoughts under the cut

we’ve got a drawing of Kieranpon in his Ogerpon form and a Full body drawing of Pecharunt Kieran

first off: pecharunt kieran (who i really need a better name for..)

since pecharunt kieran is working with scraps of their identity, their human form is… off putting, to say the least.

since in their human form they don’t have a special place to store their poison, it just kind of ends up naturally explelling itself, like through the tears and saliva. the poison also causes their human form to be extra weak, which is why the chains are there for support. (it’s also because his human form is just. unstable in general but like. yknow)

in terms of memories, pecharunt kieran’s memories are split between pecharunt’s memories before the merge, the fragments of memories from kieran before the split, and the weird mishmash after the split. Pecharunt kieran is the only merged entity that has knowledge of the previous timeline, although the MC sometimes has strange dreams about it.. but this is about our pecha boy not the MC

due to the weird mishmash of memories and the poisonous saliva, Pecharunt Kieran can’t really speak normally. They talk in broken sentences, as Pecharunt could not speak any human language beforehand, and there’s only a little bit of Kieran we can work with here

in terms of personality and emotions, Pecharunt Kieran feels very envious of their counterpart. Kieranpon got most of their memories and personality and such, and is mostly stable in terms of appearance. Pecharunt Kieran feels as if they should have gotten those attributes, and believes that Kieranpon stole those qualities from them. so they DEFINITELY will end up fighting. and while Pecharunt Kieran’s human body isn’t very strong, the chains are. (i mean just LOOK at them)

SPEAKING OF THIS AU’s KIERANPON

this is mostly just gonna be about his Ogerpon form, and how it is different from his sisters (i haven’t drawn her ogerpon form yet

in terms of what parts of Kieranpon got compared to his sister, he got more of the true parts of Ogerpon, instead of the parts the signboards talk about. They both did, but in terms of symbolism Kieran is more “true” to the original Ogerpon. Kieran and Carmine both look very similar, but there are some differences.

While Kieran’s horns, curve up, Carmine’s horns curve more downwards and back almost. Carmine is also taller and has more sharper features in general, but in terms of strength, both are about the same with their masks

SPEAKING OF THE MASKS, there is only 1 copy of each mask! so they have to share. Kieran tends to use the Teal and Wellspring Masks, while Carmine favors the Hearthflame and Cornerstone Masks. They both have their own cudgels, though.

Both Kieran and Carmine can understand what Pokémon are saying, but Kieran specifically seems to have the easiest time understanding them by the way! technically ALL of them can but like.. yknow

#kieran pokemon #pokemon #pokemon kieran #kieranpon au #pokemon au #pokemon carmine #ogerpon #pecharunt

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celestialholz · 5 months

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The apple of my eye (or 'oh good, there's ANOTHER one')

*yeets into the conversation a week late with Starbucks*

Sorry, sorry. Been trying to save a dukedom from a giant brain and live my best happily ever with a vampire twink. Very distracting.

But anyway, I haven't even gotten the boys in my clubroom yet, so more analysis incoming, but I have finished Indigo Disk's main story, and I couldn't help but notice something deeply awful when fighting our little buddy Kieran.

... Oh god THEY'RE MULTIPLYING. How many apples do we need? How much more homosexuality does this game need? (Yes. The answer is 'yes.')

Meet Hydrapple everyone, the latest gay marriage mascot. Truly wish you all could've seen my face when. And it evolves from the last gay marriage mascot! I have quickly become homophobic again, how do they keep managing this?!

So, naturally, we need to break this loveable bastard and its symbolism down, or I might have to start passing the meta queen crown off to someone else. (I vote @prince-kallisto. Friend spare me. 🤣)

Well, we'll begin with the obvious: this thing is a hydra, a multiple-headed dragon in Greek myth. This one in particular has seven, so says the all-knowing dex:

But we'll do the seven part in a minute. The one major thing you should all know is that in most tales, removing one of this thing's heads respawns two in its place - and killing one of these creatures was the second labour of Hercules, the God of Strength. There's that fucking number two again in connection with our boys...

And now, let's take the Greek and easternize it to our lovely Japanese creators with the number seven.

Seven in Japanese culture, like in the western, is seen as a lucky number, and also the number symbolising the cycle of life and death.

... Which, if you recall, is a running theme with our silly men.

Get your life saved, idiot. Be lucky. 🥰

There are also Seven Gods of Fortune in Buddhism, Japan's primary religion. And there's one that rings more than a few ceremonial bells - Fukurokokuju. Bit of a Buddhist lore deepcut here for you:

> He is the god of wisdom, luck, longevity, wealth and happiness. Moreover, he is the only god who was said to have the ability to resurrect the dead. Fukurokuju is characterized by the size of his head, being almost as large as the size of his whole body.

... Hmm. Wisdom, happiness. Luck. 'Resurrecting.' The one that has a large head, like our good pal Hydrapple here... it's all very interesting, isn't it, how it ties together?

And all this goes a long way to explaining the evolution method of this fun little apple-y bastard. Because in order to be lucky, to be brought back to life, to heal and to love and to find yourself... one must have support. A cheerleader, if you will. Not one with pom-poms (although slay Hass babes, you'd look great in that drip), but one cheering you on. Always being in your corner.

... And here we find Dragon Cheer, Hydrapple's evolution move. Brassius can pursue his dreams as passionately as he likes, because there's always a husband at his side to be on his side.

It's a whole narrative, my friends. We have the romantic gift of the Applin; we have the adorableness of the Flapple, and its dusk portrait; we have the total harmony of Dipplin...

... And now we have the result of that harmony. Look, it's even running away from the Ice of the Polar Biome, a type both Grass and Dragon can't stand. The emotional cold.

Y'know, I'm sure someone would have DM'd me by now if Hass and Brass' clubroom banter confirmed their marriage, so I'm going to assume that isn't a thing.

... But at the same time, it's definitely a thing. All you have to do is read the narrative, darlings.

#ephemeralartshipping #hassius #hassel x brassius #hassel #brassius #pokemon scarlet and violet #indigo disk dlc #pokemon spoilers #hydrapple is the final piece of the puzzle #and I for one think that's fucking beautiful. 😭😭#... fucking apples. I'll write a fic about this shit someday on arceus #I have missed meta y'know. Great to be back. 😍

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orcasoul · 4 months

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Forever a Winner

Summary: You attend the Golden Globes with your boyfriend Pedro to support him. He doesn't win, much to your disappointment as you know he deserves the award. He doesn't let it bother him but his injured arm definitely is affecting him. You give him some much needed TLC at the end of the night.

A/N: This is pure fluff and sweetness and love. I don't care though. The world could do with some more of the lovey dovey stuff in my opinion :)

Warnings: None, just love. Reader has no physical description, so feel free to let your imagination run wild. Use of Y/N.

You couldn't be more proud. Sitting next to the man you love, unconditionally, watching his warm brown eyes light up his rugged features you find yourself completely absorbed in his joy, his humility, his very being. The Golden Globes awards is in full swing and to be just nominated is a fantastic achievement in and of itself. You know Pedro deserves the nomination, he deserves the award and your fingers, hell even your toes are crossed for him!

Alas it was not meant to be. However you are absolutely awed by his grace and acceptance at not being awarded and at his genuine happiness and support for kieran Culkin. Pedro didn't win and unfortunately The Last of Us didn't win any awards either but that obviously didn't dampen the night for him. But as the evening went on you could tell by Pedro's body language that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable. "Is it your arm?" you whisper as you lean into his ear. "Yeah," Pedro replies with a twinge of discomfort evident on his face. "We left in such a rush I forgot to grab my pain meds."

You roll your eyes and huff, endearingly. "Trust you," you joshed while rubbing your hand up and down his uninjured arm. A small smile unfurled from Pedro in return. "Will you be okay?" you ask, all playfulness banished from your voice. You hate knowing he's in pain and there's nothing you can do to help him right now. "I'll be fine, baby," he replies casually but you're not convinced. You tenderly hold his good hand and rub soothing 'I'm here, I've got you' circles along his knuckles with your thumb. His hand instinctively replies to your comforting gesture by lightly squeezing your fingers in return.

By the end of the night it was clear that Pedro was masking the pain and you couldn't wait to get him home and take care of him. In all fairness to him he played the part well; smiling for photo's, reacquainting with fellow actors and giving the camera's his usual goofy cheer. Only you could see how his injury was truly affecting him. Another testament to his amazing acting skills, you thought with a fond smile.

*****

As soon as you both arrived home you headed straight to the cabinet to get Pedro's painkillers while telling him you'd meet him upstairs. Entering the bedroom you see Pedro has already shed his trousers but was struggling to remove the sling. "God damn it!" he muttered sharply under his breath. "Ped, let me do that," you offered and quickly placed the glass of water and tablets on the nightstand by his side of the bed. He was obviously frustrated at not being able to do the simplest of tasks but he didn't reject your help or your concern.

"I'm like an invalid," he half laughed, half grumbled. "Maybe...," you teased with a smirk as you carefully opened the sling, gently lowering his arm and proceeding to unbutton his shirt. "But your my invalid and I'm gonna look after you." After helping Pedro into his PJ's and securing his arm inside the sling he slunk his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to place a chaste peck on your lips. "Thank you, Y/N," he breathed, looking at you with adoration. "What would I do without you, hmm?" "Well, you'd forget to take these for starters!" You grinned as you passed him the pills and glass. Pedro laughs and shakes his head. "You're probably right," he concedes, then downs the pills.

Pedro watches as you discard your evening wear and slip on your pyjama shorts and top, his eyes scanning every inch of you. Not in a sexual way this time (although those times are always enjoyable). No, this time it's simply a look of love, appreciating what he has with you and all you do for him. How you supported him tonight, how you're always understanding when he has to spend weeks, even months away filming, how you've always treated him like a human being and not an idolised, imagined enigma that so many see him as. To you he's just your Pedro as that's more than okay by him.

Even now after an exhausting night you are still eager to show your devotion to him in the form of TLC. He know's one thing for sure; He'll never take you for granted! Pedro pulls the quilt back to get into bed, then pulls away the quilt on your side, extending his arm to tuck you into his chest, knowing full well it's your favourite way to sleep. But tonight you have other ideas. "Nuh uh...," you shake your head as you slip in beside him and lower his arm. He looks at you confusedly, his big brown puppy dog eyes cautiously searching your face.

"I'm taking care of you, remember?" you say softly as you make him shuffle down in the bed so you can wrap him up in your arms. His head rests on your chest and you listen to him sigh as you enjoy the feeling of the weight and warmth of him. You languidly run your fingers through his wavy hair, admiring the detailed blend of brown and grey woven throughout. You know this is Pedro's Achilles's Heel. Just a few moments of slowly stroking his hair always calms and soothes him into an almost catatonic state.

"Babe?..." you murmur sweetly. "Hmm?..." Pedro answers sleepily. "I'm so proud of you... you know that?" Your heart is so full of love for this man you think you might just burst! He stirs a little and asks, "Why? I didn't win." There was no bitterness or regret in his voice. He is simply stating a fact. Humble as always, you say inwardly. "You don't need to win an award to show what I, your family and friends, and millions of people worldwide already know - that you're a talented and passionate actor and a compassionate human being, and that's why I'm so proud of you." You tighten your arms around his shoulders as the last few words are spoken with intensity.

You feel a smile stretch it's way across Pedro's jaw against your chest, causing you to smile too. "You're finally getting the recognition you deserve after years and years of hard work, and things are only going to keep getting better for you. One day you will win, I know it, weather it's a Golden Globe, an Emmy or an Oscar, and I'll be there cheering you on." Pedro is silent for a moment and you think maybe he's fallen asleep, until he clears his throat a few seconds later. "What did I do to deserve you, Y/N?" His voice is choked with emotion as if he is holding tears back. He wishes he could hug you properly right now, itching to rip off the sling and hold you tight in his arms but he has to settle for smoothing your side, his fingertips being the only part of his arm he can move.

A deep sigh escapes you and you tilt his chin up so he's looking into your face. With a smile of pure love and affection you gush, "Just being you...and everything that makes you you." Pedro sits up and pulls you to sit up with him. He gazes deeply into your eyes causing you to forget everything for a moment. All that exists are those warm caramel eyes boring into the deepest parts of your soul. Pedro slowly brings his hand to the side of your head and kisses you fervently, his fingers cupping the back of your head and this thumb tenderly caressing the apple of your cheek.

Pedro ends the kiss but leans back in to place a peck on the tip of your nose, as if he misses you already. "Thank you, baby!" he cooed with glistening eyes. "You have no idea what you mean to me, what your support means to me. Tonight was the best night of my life." "It was?..." you smile, slightly confused. "Yes!" Pedro answers with conviction, "because you were there beside me. I could have won tonight and it would mean nothing if you weren't there with me. I love you so much!" Pedro declares as he pulls you into another passionate kiss. You release a little moan as the kiss leaves your lips and travels to your neck, then to your shoulder as he pulls you into him for a hug.

"I love you too, Ped," your purr quietly into his ear and wrap your arms around his shoulders. This man is your whole world and you swear you've never been happier than you are in this moment. "How's your arm feeling now?" you ask while stroking the back of his neck. "It's feeling a lot better now," Pedro chuckles, touched by your endless concern. "Good," you breathed a sigh of relief as you lay down and gently pull Pedro down with you to lay his head back on your chest. Placing a feather light kiss atop his soft curls you whisper "Let's get some sleep. Goodnight, baby." "Sweet dreams my love," Pedro sighs as he snuggles as close to you as possible, falling asleep to the calming rhythm of your heartbeat.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fandom

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jewels-writes · 1 year

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how i think rdr2 characters would react to you getting injured in a fight

Featured characters: Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van der Linde, John Marston, Charles Smith, Sadie Adler, Lenny Summers, Sean Macguire, Kieran Duffy

WARNING: some people might consider this a little graphic, you've been warned.

(If you want your own custom story with any character from any fandom, please support me on fiverr https://www.fiverr.com/share/vP6NwZ)

Arthur Morgan

You and Arthur had been fighting off a group of bandits, but things took a turn for the worse when one of them landed a blow on you with his axe. You screamed out in agony as the pain coursed through your body, and Arthur quickly came to your side.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he urged, pressing a hand to your wound to try and staunch the bleeding. "You're gonna be alright, just keep your eyes open."

But despite his best efforts, you kept slipping in and out of consciousness. Every time you faded away, Arthur's heart raced with panic. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He needed to get you to a doctor, fast.

Desperately, he tried to keep you awake, talking to you, asking you questions, anything to keep your mind focused. He even resorted to slapping you lightly on the cheek to rouse you when you started to drift off.

As he worked to keep you conscious, he also tried to assess your injuries. He knew that you were bleeding heavily from the wound in your side, but he also noticed that you seemed to have a concussion from hitting your head on a rock during the battle.

"Y/N, can you hear me?" he asked, his voice thick with worry as he gently prodded at the lump on your head. "You hit your head pretty hard, but we need to keep moving. Can you sit up?"

With his help, you managed to prop yourself up against a nearby tree. Arthur carefully examined your wound, tearing off a piece of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage. He knew it wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

"Alright, Y/N. I need you to be strong for me," he said, his voice firm and determined. "We're gonna get you out of here, but you need to stay with me, okay?"

You nodded weakly, but your eyes kept drooping closed. Arthur knew he needed to act fast if he was going to save your life.

He hoisted you up in his arms, grunting with the effort. You were heavier than he anticipated, but he refused to let that slow him down. He carried you back to his horse, gently laying you across the saddle before mounting up behind you.

Arthur held you tightly as the horse galloped through the snow, his eyes never leaving your face. He could feel your body growing colder and weaker, and the fear in his heart threatened to overwhelm him.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "You're gonna be alright, I promise."

It felt like hours before they finally arrived at the doctor's cabin. Arthur rushed in, calling out for help as he carried you inside. The doctor took one look at your injuries and immediately got to work, but Arthur couldn't bear to leave your side.

He sat beside you, holding your hand and watching as the doctor worked tirelessly to save your life. And when you finally opened your eyes, weak and dazed, Arthur felt like he could finally breathe again.

"You scared me, Y/N," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But you're gonna be alright now. I won't let anything happen to you."

Dutch Van der Linde

You and Dutch were in the middle of a heated battle against a rival gang. You had been fighting fiercely, taking down several of the enemy members. But in the chaos, you were hit by a stray bullet and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Dutch immediately rushed over to you, his heart pounding with fear. He had always been protective of you, and the thought of losing you was too much to bear. He checked for a pulse, and thankfully, you were still alive.

Desperate to keep you conscious, he called out your name and shook you gently, hoping to rouse you. But you remained still, and Dutch knew he had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm in the midst of the battle and the chilly air.

He pressed his hand against your wound, trying to stem the bleeding as he looked around for a way out. He spotted a nearby alleyway and made a decision. He scooped you up in his arms, careful not to aggravate your injury, and ran towards the alleyway.

As he ran, he spoke to you softly, urging you to stay with him. "Come on, y/n," he whispered. "Don't give up on me now. You're going to be alright."

When he finally made it to the end of the alleyway, he spotted a horse and carriage parked nearby. He rushed over and spoke to the driver, explaining your situation and begging him to take you to the nearest doctor.

The driver hesitated at first, but the desperation in Dutch's voice and the sight of you, pale and still in his arms, convinced him to help. Dutch carefully laid you down in the carriage, trying his best to keep you warm and conscious.

As the carriage set off towards the doctor's, Dutch stayed by your side, his hand still pressed against your wound. He spoke to you constantly, telling you stories and memories in an attempt to keep you alert and awake.

When the carriage finally arrived at the doctor's, Dutch practically carried you inside, begging for the doctor to save you. He watched anxiously as the doctor tended to your wound, his heart racing with fear.

As the doctor worked, Dutch paced back and forth, his mind racing with thoughts of what could happen if you didn't make it. He thought of all the times he had spent with you, all the memories they had shared, and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the back room with good news. You were going to be okay.

Dutch let out a sigh of relief, his body shaking with emotion. He rushed over to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it gently. "Thank God you're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

From that day on, Dutch made sure to keep a closer eye on you during battles, making sure that you were never put in harm's way again. He realized that losing you would be too great a loss, and he was willing to do anything to keep you safe.

John Marston

You and John were out on a mission with the rest of the gang, trying to take over a rival gang's hideout. But things went wrong and you got shot in the crossfire. John rushed over to your side and saw that you were badly injured. Your eyes kept fluttering shut, and each time you did, John's heart skipped a beat.

He knew he had to keep you awake until they could get you to a doctor, but he didn't know how. He tried talking to you, shaking you, and slapping your face lightly, but nothing seemed to work. He felt helpless and desperate.

"Come on, stay with me," he pleaded with you, his voice laced with worry. "You gotta stay awake, okay? We're gonna get you out of here and to a doctor."

He tried to keep you talking, asking about your favorite things and your childhood memories. He even tried to make you laugh by telling you some jokes, but all he got in return was a weak smile.

As he looked at you, he noticed how pale your skin was and how your breathing was becoming more labored. He had to act fast. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, trying to keep you warm. He also checked your pulse and monitored your breathing, trying to keep you stable until they could get to a doctor.

The journey to the doctor was a long and bumpy one, and each time the horse stumbled or hit a rough patch, John's heart would race with fear that you might not make it. He kept talking to you, telling you how much you meant to him and the gang, and how much they all needed you.

Finally, they arrived at the doctor's office, and John carried you inside. The doctor immediately tended to your wounds, and John watched anxiously from the corner of the room.

As the doctor worked on you, John could feel his heart in his throat. He had never been so scared in his life. He paced back and forth, wringing his hands and muttering under his breath.

When the doctor finally emerged from the room, John rushed over to him. "How is she? Is she gonna be okay?" he asked urgently.

The doctor gave him a small smile. "She's going to be just fine. She's a fighter," he said.

John let out a sigh of relief, his whole body sagging with the weight of the tension that had been building up inside him. He looked back at you, sleeping peacefully on the bed, and felt a wave of emotions wash over him.

He knew that he cared deeply for you and that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. As he sat there, watching over you, he vowed to always protect you, no matter what it took.

Charles Smith

You and Charles had been fighting side by side in a fierce battle against a gang of outlaws. Despite your best efforts, one of the enemies had managed to sneak up behind you and deliver a devastating blow to the back of your head. You had collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Charles was immediately by your side, his heart racing with fear. He knelt down beside you and checked for a pulse, relieved when he felt it beating steadily beneath his fingertips. But as he watched, he could see that your breathing was shallow and labored, a clear sign that you were in serious trouble.

Without a moment's hesitation, Charles lifted you gently into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he looked around frantically for a way to get you to safety. He spotted a nearby horse that had been abandoned by its owner in the chaos of the battle and knew that it was your only hope.

He carefully laid you across the horse's back, making sure that you were as comfortable as possible, despite your injuries. He mounted the horse himself, holding you steady with one arm as he kicked the animal into motion.

As they rode, Charles talked to you softly, willing you to stay with him, to keep fighting. He could feel the weight of your body pressing against him, a constant reminder of how close he was to losing you. He kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, searching desperately for any sign of help.

Finally, he saw the faint outline of a small settlement in the distance, and he spurred the horse forward with renewed energy. As they drew closer, he could see a doctor's office and he let out a sigh of relief. He dismounted the horse with you still in his arms, bursting into the office and calling for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, examining you carefully as Charles paced back and forth, his heart pounding in his chest. The doctor's face was grave as he spoke to Charles, telling him that you had suffered a serious head injury and that your prognosis was uncertain.

Charles sank into a chair, his head in his hands as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he couldn't lose you, that he needed you by his side more than anything else in the world.

He stayed by your side throughout the long, difficult night, his hand clasped tightly in yours as he talked to you softly, willing you to wake up. When morning finally came, the doctor emerged from his examination room with a small smile on his face.

"You're a lucky man," he told Charles. "She's going to make it."

Charles felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he let out a deep breath. He looked down at you, still sleeping soundly, and felt a surge of love and protectiveness wash over him. He vowed then and there to never let anything harm you again, to always be by your side no matter what the future held.

Sadie Adler

You and Sadie Adler had always been close. Despite the harsh life of an outlaw, the two of you had formed a bond that was unbreakable. So when you were injured in a battle with a rival gang, she was by your side in an instant.

You were barely conscious, your head swimming with pain as you struggled to stay awake. But Sadie's voice was a constant presence, urging you to keep your eyes open, to keep fighting.

"Come on, y/n," she said, her voice tight with worry. "Stay with me. You're gonna be okay."

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently as she tried to rouse you from your stupor. You wanted to respond, to tell her that you were trying, but your lips wouldn't move, your voice wouldn't come.

Desperate, Sadie began to slap your cheeks lightly, hoping to shock you awake. You winced at the pain, but it was enough to keep you conscious for a few more moments.

"You're doing great," she said, her voice softening. "Just keep breathing, okay? You're gonna make it through this."

As the world around you began to fade into darkness, Sadie's voice was the only thing that kept you anchored to reality. But soon, even that wasn't enough. You felt your body slipping away, your consciousness fading into oblivion.

But then, just when you thought all was lost, you felt a pair of strong arms scoop you up, cradling you like a child. It was Sadie, carrying you to safety.

"I've got you," she whispered, her voice strained with effort. "You're gonna be okay. I promise."

Despite her small size, Sadie was strong. She carried you for what felt like hours, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to keep going. But she never faltered, never gave up.

Finally, you saw the lights of a town in the distance. Sadie carried you to a doctor's office, where they took you in for treatment. As she watched you being taken away, Sadie's eyes filled with tears.

"You're gonna be okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, y/n, don't leave me. I can't lose you."

Days passed as you lay in bed, your body wracked with pain. But Sadie was there, by your side every moment, her hand clasped tightly around yours as she prayed for your recovery.

Finally, the day came when you were strong enough to leave. Sadie helped you to your feet, her eyes shining with relief and joy.

"I thought I'd lost you," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "I couldn't bear it. You're my family, y/n. You mean everything to me."

You hugged her tightly, tears streaming down your face. You knew that without her, you wouldn't have made it through. And you knew that no matter what happened, you and Sadie would always be there for each other, no matter what the future held.

Lenny Summers

Lenny Summers had never felt so helpless before. He watched in horror as you collapsed to the ground after taking a severe blow to the head during a fierce battle with rival gang members. You were bleeding heavily and had lost consciousness, causing Lenny's heart to race with fear and panic.

He quickly rushed to your side and checked for a pulse, relieved to find it still present but weak. Lenny knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to save your life. He began to shake you, calling out your name in hopes of waking you up.

"Come on, wake up! Stay with me," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.

When you didn't stir, Lenny started slapping your face gently, trying to bring you back to consciousness. But it was no use. You remained unresponsive, and Lenny felt his world start to crumble around him.

Thinking quickly, Lenny lifted you gently and carried you towards the nearest town where he knew there was a doctor. As he walked, he spoke to you, begging you to stay awake.

"Come on, keep your eyes open. You're going to be okay. Just hold on a little longer," he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion.

He could feel your weight becoming heavier in his arms with each passing moment, and Lenny knew he had to act quickly. He started slapping your face harder, hoping to rouse you from your unconscious state.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Lenny arrived at the doctor's office. He barged in and placed you gently on the nearest bed, calling out for the doctor.

The doctor rushed to your side, assessing your injuries while Lenny watched with bated breath. Lenny's heart sank as the doctor confirmed that you had suffered a severe concussion and that the situation was grave.

He knew that he had to stay strong for you, so he held your hand and whispered words of encouragement into your ear, urging you to fight and stay alive.

Hours passed, and Lenny stayed by your side, never leaving your side. Finally, you stirred, and Lenny breathed a sigh of relief. He was overjoyed to see you wake up, and he knew that he would never let anything happen to you again.

"Thank God you're awake. I was so scared I was going to lose you," Lenny said, tears of relief streaming down his face.

You looked up at him, weakly smiling, and whispered, "Thank you for being there for me."

Lenny smiled back, relieved and grateful that you were alive. From that day forward, he made a vow to himself to always protect you and keep you safe, no matter the cost.

Sean Macguire

You and Sean had been fighting for what felt like hours, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you fired round after round at the enemy. But then, in a sudden moment, everything went black.

When you finally came to, you were lying on the ground, pain coursing through your body. You tried to sit up, but your head was spinning and your vision was blurry. You could hear Sean's voice in the distance, but it sounded muffled, like he was speaking through a tunnel.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," Sean said, his voice filled with panic. "Come on, keep your eyes open."

You could feel his hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently. You tried to focus on his face, but it was all a blur. You felt cold and shaky, and your body was screaming in agony.

"Sean, what happened?" you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

"You got hit pretty bad," Sean replied, his voice trembling. "Just stay with me, okay? I'm gonna try to keep you awake."

Sean's eyes were wide with fear as he looked down at you. He knew that if you fell asleep, you might never wake up. He had to keep you conscious until they could get you to a doctor.

He grabbed his canteen of water and poured some onto a piece of cloth, then gently wiped your face with it. The cold water felt refreshing against your skin, but it wasn't enough to ease the pain.

"Sean, it hurts," you groaned, clenching your teeth.

"I know, I know," Sean replied, his voice cracking. "But you gotta stay strong, okay? We're gonna get you out of here."

Sean knew that he couldn't carry you on his own, not with the enemy still lurking around. He had to get help. He quickly pulled out his whistle and blew it, the sound echoing through the battlefield.

Within minutes, a group of their fellow gang members arrived, and Sean explained the situation to them. Together, they carefully lifted you onto a makeshift stretcher and began carrying you away from the danger.

As they walked, Sean kept talking to you, trying to keep you awake. He asked you questions about your life, anything to keep your mind occupied. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the fear that he might lose you.

Finally, you arrived at a small medical tent, and Sean rushed inside, calling for a doctor. The doctor came over, examining your wound and shaking his head gravely.

"This is bad," he said, his voice low. "We need to get them to a real hospital, now."

Sean's heart sank as he heard the doctor's words. He couldn't lose you, not like this. He had to get you to safety, no matter what.

With the help of the other gang members, Sean carried you to the nearest town, where they managed to find a doctor who could treat your injuries. As you lay on the operating table, Sean sat in the waiting room, his head in his hands.

He didn't know what he would do if he lost you. You had become more than just a comrade in arms, you had become a friend, someone he cared deeply for.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor emerged from the operating room. Sean jumped up, rushing over to him.

"How are they?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor smiled. "They’re going to be okay. We managed to stabilize them, and they’re going to make a full recovery."

Sean let out a sigh of relief, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe it. You were going to be okay.

Kieran Duffy

As the battle raged on, you found yourself in the middle of the chaos, fighting for your life alongside Kieran. The adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you the strength to keep fighting, but eventually, you took a heavy blow to the head, and everything went black.

When you came to, you were lying on the ground, your head pounding with pain. Kieran was kneeling beside you, his face etched with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice shaky.

You tried to answer, but the pain was too intense, and you passed out again.

Kieran's panic increased as he watched you lose consciousness again. He knew he had to act fast to keep you alive. He grabbed a canteen of water and splashed it on your face, hoping to wake you up.

"Come on, wake up," he said urgently. "We have to get you out of here."

He quickly checked your pulse and breathing, relieved to find that you were still alive, but he knew that time was running out. He needed to get you to a doctor as soon as possible.

With all his strength, Kieran lifted you onto his back and began carrying you through the battlefield, dodging enemy fire as he went. He tried to keep you awake by talking to you, telling you stories about his past, anything to keep your mind occupied.

Finally, he made it to a nearby doctor's tent, where he gently laid you down on a cot. The doctor rushed over to examine you, his face grave.

"It's touch and go," he said to Kieran. "We'll do everything we can, but she may not make it."

Kieran's heart sank at the thought of losing you. He knew he couldn't bear it. He sat by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement to you.

"You're strong," he said. "You can pull through this. You have to."

Hours passed, and Kieran remained by your side, never leaving even for a moment. He watched as the doctor tended to your wounds, his heart in his throat with fear.

Finally, you stirred, and Kieran's heart leaped with joy. He watched as you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confusion written on your face.

"You're safe," he said, relief flooding his voice. "You're going to be alright."

You smiled weakly, your eyes closing again as you drifted off to sleep.

Kieran stayed by your side, watching over you until you finally recovered. He was grateful that he had been there to save you, and he vowed never to let anything happen to you again.

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arvensimp · 2 months

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YFSK Preview, pt. 4.1

I know i've been super duper quiet, but I promise there's a good reason. Please forgive me and accept this teaser for part 4.

“Hey! I dunno if you’ve been keeping track on your end, but Kiki is gonna be graduating from Blueberry, and I know it would mean the absolute world to him if you were able to attend the ceremony.” Carmine called, nearly out of the blue one day to inform you. Her brother had apparently been a part of a trial class that not only earned a high school diploma but also continued on for a few more years as part of a pilot Bachelor’s degree program in pokemon battling. From what you understood, it was basically like a feeder system to train new gym leaders and Elite Four hopefuls.

You look down at your ballooning tummy,

"Congratulations to him! When is it exactly though…?"

You wince and resist the urge to suck your teeth when Carmine gives you the date.

"Ahhh... I'm so sorry, I've got something at that time."

"For real? You can't just ask for time away from your league for even a weekend? This would REALLY mean the world to Kiki..."

"I'm sorry, but…I won't actually be allowed to fly by that point."

"Allowed? What kinda terrorism have you gotten into?"

You snort a laugh. "Pssh, nah. It's... It's medical actually. Here. Lemme, uh..." Without hanging up, you send over the most recent ultrasound photos. Your baby still kinda looks like a Munna in there, but she should get the point. Or, at least you assume she does when you hear the sound of crashing and fumbling on her end.

"You're having a BABY?????"

"Uh...haha, yeah. The due date is, like, a week after Kieran's graduation, so... I, y'know, can't fly. I'm really sorry. I'll be sure to send a gift though!"

"A BABY?"

"Yup. I can hardly believe it myself, most days."

"I didn't even know you were seeing anyone! Who is this guy? Why didn't you let your incredible Unovan friends suss him out for you?"

Another wince. "...About that. Yeah... He's not...um. In the picture."

"What? How? Why? Whomst would even dare? Do I need to kick some ass?"

"It's...." You still haven’t gotten used to talking about the subject. "It's a lot. Don't. ...Don't worry! Really! I have tons of support! It's fine. For real."

Carmine absolutely isn't buying it. "Mm. Fine. I guess I get why you can't make it to the graduation. Could we come visit afterwards though? Like I get you probably wouldn't want us there immediately after he graduates. But...maybe like a few months later? Give the thing a chance to develop an immune system?"

"I can't promise I'll be a great host, but... Well, it would be nice."

"Don't worry yourself none! I've changed diapers and stuff before if you end up needing a nap while we're around!"

So around the time Basil is 3 months old, the Kitakami pair head to Paldea.

Of course, Basil is having a rough time of it, screaming his little lungs out as they're knocking on the door, so you can only hope that you don’t look as frazzled as you feel when you welcome them in.

"Hey! Hello! Please, come in, come in. Make yourselves at home.” You give the pair a hug at the same time, barely able to register them beyond the fog of ‘TAKE CARE OF BASIL, TAKE CARE OF CRYING PROGENY, TAKE CARE OF BABY’ that alarms through your brain. “I'm really sorry, but I just need to feed Basil real fast. That should hopefully get him sleeping and happy again."

You usher them in and invite them to sit on the sofa, the TV is theirs, and you hide away in the bedroom to nurse. A few minutes later, Carmine gently knocks on the door and asks if she can be of any help. You joke through the wood that the dishes need doing when she presses past the feeble ‘it’s fine!’ that you offer.

"Kiki! Take care of the dishes, yeah?"

"On it!" You hear, softer.

"Okay, what else?" She continues.

"No! Just. Just relax, please."

"Nah, I'm gonna tidy up. Kay? You just keep feeding the chonklet there, and we can catch up when you're done."

You come back out to the room, and it's not Clean, but it's definitely more put together. You also hear the hum of the dishwasher from the kitchen.

"You guys...." You start tearing up, and both siblings immediately swoop in to hold you. Carmine strokes your hair, shushing you. Now that you’ve got your child content, you have a moment to comprehend your guests.

Kieran is. Bigger.

"I... I promise I'm not this pathetic! I can handle this. Plus, I... I have folks here who can help... It's just hard..." You snivel, sounding way more pathetic than you mean to sound.

"It's okay that it's hard..." Kieran finally pipes up and his voice is definitely deeper since you last heard him. Not a bass or something, but there's been a change there. "This is more or less the hardest thing in the world, right? And we all know you're the strongest person there is, so...ya know. It's okay. You...you can do this. And you can feel overwhelmed."

They end up staying for about a week or so, and on the night before they're due to fly back, Kieran pulls you aside while Carmine is grabbing takeaway for dinner. He's fidgeting with his hair a bit, tapping his foot, but he's doing his best to meet your eye.

"I'm staying." He declares.

"What? Like you're gonna look for a job here?"

"Yeah! I know I'm not as strong as you, but I'm certain I could get a job in your league or...or maybe even at your alma mater, maybe. I... I'd need to do a teaching cert in Paldea for that, probably, but..."

"Wow! So you liked it that much here? That's great, Kieran. I can help you learn the language if you want. I can also see if Nemona has any real estate connections. We'll try to find you a place when you're ready to get back, and hopefully by then you'll have a job, and you can get started wi--"

"No! I mean... I'm. I'm not going back to Kitakami." One of his hands grabs yours and the other rests gently on Basil, sleeping soundly in your arms. "He needs...a...a father figure, y'know? I..." Kieran swallows thickly. "I can do that. I'm... I'm a man now."

"Kieran..." You shift slightly, freeing a hand from your bundle while keeping him balanced in your arms. You trace a palm along the older boy--no, man's cheek, your callouses having grown softer in recent months. You can feel where he's begun to grow consistent stubble. Wow... He really did grow up.

"I... I'm not going to keep you from reaching your fullest potential out there. You're welcome, more than welcome, to come visit any time, but... You're not thinking clearly about this. About what you think you're signing up for."

"I AM though!" He raises his voice, showing some hints of the anger he holds onto. "I'm READY for this! God, why can't anyone TRUST me?!"

All the yelling wakes up Basil, who cries, startled. Kieran quickly scoops him up and out of your arms, attempting to soothe the baby.

"Aw, geez... I'm sorry, little guy... I didn't mean to make you upset... Shh, shh... It'll be okay..."

The momentary flare of anger you felt at having your son torn from your grip is placated as you watch Kieran hold him so tenderly. Your heart melts... You lose all affection you may have secretly held onto in your heart for Arven, that loser.

Kieran is here. Kieran is capable. Kieran... Kieran can do this.

"Okay..." You softly tell him once Basil has calmed, the single word hanging in the quiet between you for a moment.

"...Okay?" He parrots.

"You... You can stay. You... You'll be his father."

Then y'all DO IT.

THE END

april fools :)

#arvensimp kidfic

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galactic-ambitions-jester · 7 days

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Marx and Dokutaro’s Must Vote(and Not Vote) List!

Hey, hey, hey! How you folks doin’! The @kirbyoctournament is rolling in! Dokutaro and I have blog jumping here n’ there! And we made list of who to vote (and not vote)! - Marx

And without further ado, let’s start the propaganda support! - Dokutaro

And anti-propaganda support! Noww!! Our recommendations for who to vote for! After all, why are you still here? - Marx

First up, vote Lady Celestine! (@kirbybecomesastarwarrior) - Dokutaro

Why? Because she’s cool, sassy and a sweet girl and is a literal queen! Next! Vote for Valfrey (@gethoce) and DON’T vote for Sir Uther (@quanblovk)! - Marx

Why not Sir Uther? Because he’s stinky, punchable, a loser that’s even more worse than Kieran(wait, how do I know that?) And vote Valfrey! Because she’s Sir Uther’s paralysis demon, supports lesbians, cool girl, & beautiful. - Dokutaro

Fecto Flora (@ceoofmetagala) is also someone who you should vote for too. Wonderful lil’ fella. Someone you can relate to, Doku! - Marx

… How do I put up with you again? - Dokutaro

And last but not the least of our recommendations for the tournament, Noir (@desultory-novice)! Edgy and unstable, but surprisingly has a good heart! - Marx

And that concludes our recommendation list for the Kirby OC tournament. - Dokutaro

Have a nice day, folks!! - Marx

//welp, I don’t know if this counts as propaganda, but if it is, enjoy their banter and recommendations. It’s also support propaganda (and non support propaganda for Sir Uther, but that’s because the guy’s punchable, sorry not sorry)

Propaganda for @kirbyoctournament

#kirby oc tournament #rotomblr #rotumblr #jester’s up #just peachy #dokutaro #marx #sir uther #noir fontaine #fecto flora #lady celestine #valfrey #<- all mentioned except doku and marx #also not mine #support propaganda #propaganda #kirby oc tournament shenanigans

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

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To Have and To Heal (Part 8)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

"You have a date?"

"Why do you have to say it like that?" Martin grumbles. "Like, have some faith, will you?" Martin presses the bar above his chest, getting a few more reps in before letting Kieran help him rack the weights. Martin is close to a new personal record; if he wasn't distracted with thoughts of what you might be doing right now, maybe he would've hit it.

"Oh, I have faith," Kieran says with a hint of sarcasm. "Faith that I can get a date, or that Bukayo can pull that lass in media he's been pining after- but you're actually going out mate? I'm convinced the world is ending!"

Martin swipes the edge of his training kit over his forehead to collect the sweat, "what, is it so hard to believe that I can get a date if I wanted to?"

"Considering how you've been against it for years," Kieran starts, following Martin towards one of the leg press machines, "yes, it is that hard to believe. Out of the blue you've just decided to finally man up and move on?"

Martin rounds on his friend, shoving a finger at his chest. "Just so you know, this is why I don't tell you things. It was hard enough to agree as it is, I don't need you making it worse!"

Kieran's face softens and Martin can tell he feels bad. While Martin should be able to leash his temper, he doesn't appreciate his friend acting like this is a big deal. Even if it is earth shattering. Which Martin realizes the fact that he's dating again is.

"Alright, I'll keep my mouth shut," Kieran says after a pause, holding up his hands palms out in surrender. Martin has noticed Kieran doing that quite frequently lately. Martin's fuse must be shorter than he's realized, if his teammate is so quick to resort to rolling over to avoid conflict. As captain, he should be better. He should be striving to set a positive example, not looking to pick a fight.

Though he knows the source of his irritability, there isn't much he can do about it just now. There's no instant solution to the turmoil in his head. Instead, it will require a long process of healing for him to be back where he used to be. Years of pent up emotion have piled up and caused a blockage that is finally threatening to spill over.

"Thank you," Martin says, noticeably calmer after he allows himself a pause to relax. "I'll need your help picking out something to wear again, considering she liked what you put me in for her party."

Kieran breaks into a toothy grin, "Oh, did she? Makes sense, considering I have excellent taste! Right, we can go shopping after training today because I know you don't have anything fitting in your closet… I have a couple ideas, and you'll need to bring your card!"

"I have a feeling I'm gonna regret this…" Martin trails off, observing the gears turning in Kieran's head as he mentally picks pieces for him. Martin is nervous as it is, already thinking of a million ways he might verbally embarrass himself. Being in weird, stiff clothing that doesn't suit him will only make the situation worse because he'll be nervous about how he looks, too.

From the moment he agreed to a date with you, Martin has been painfully aware of how important that night will be. He wants, or rather needs, everything to go smoothly. If a roadblock the size of a puddle pops up, he knows it'll be hard for him to overcome.

"Come on, just leave it to me! I'll make you look attractive, or as attractive as I can-" Kieran yelps when Martin slugs a punch to his already sore bicep. "Fuck off! That hurt mate!"

"Cry me a river! Don't insult me and I won't have to hit you." A grin edges on Martin's lips, ruining his very serious, not at all humorous order. The tension is shattered when Kieran's knowing smirk turns into a full bodied laugh, both men leaning on each other for support while they try and catch their breath at the end of it.

Martin is glad for Kieran's friendship, for as much as he pretends to be frustrated with him, he knows Kieran is someone he can count on. If it weren't for Kieran’s constant support and near endless prodding about when he would start looking for another partner, Martin may have never considered opening his heart to new possibilities. And even if this does end in heartbreak for him, at least he can tell Atla that he tried.

*********

"Right mate, take this." Kieran adds an off white shirt to the already substantial pile of clothes in Martin's arms. "And this hoodie- Oh, try these jeans too. Trust me, they'll stretch!"

Who knew Kieran had an eye for fashion? Martin certainly didn't until today, when he drove to Selfridges in the heart of London and told Kieran he didn't have a budget. Now, his best mate is picking out pieces that Martin would never have expected, from designer leather vests with logos splashed on the chest to artfully ripped jeans with legs that seem much too long to be practical. But Martin, for better or for worse, trusts the judgment of his friend more than he trusts his own, especially in an establishment like this.

"Go on, try all that on and see if it fits!" Kieran shoos Martin towards the over-the-top dressing rooms along the wall and shuts the white velvet curtain behind him when he's inside. Martin starts mechanically hanging things on the provided hooks, refusing to look at a single price tag. A single pair of jeans alone probably cost him a day's pay, let alone an entire outfit. But in his mind, it's worth it. Martin wants to impress you; he doesn't want to mess this night up.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in this," Martin mutters to himself, screening out the wildest of choices that includes a pair of hot pink jeans and a zebra print top. Kieran must have been having a laugh when he picked those out.

Martin takes his time trying things on, judging the fit and also how comfortable they are. He's looking for casual, but not too casual- he wants that 'I'm here for a good time but also not a total douche' look that Kieran normally hits on the head. Most things are too over the top or flashy for his preferences though; he doesn't like to flaunt his wealth and tends to opt for simplicity.

Of the clothes Kieran picked out, there is exactly one full outfit Martin genuinely enjoys. He grabs the olive green shirt with purple bubble letters embossed on the front, the loose black cargo pants and the white hoodie with bright flowers embroidered around the cuff and neckline and puts everything else on the rack outside the room.

Absorbed in his phone, Kieran continues to scroll until he realizes Martin is at his side. He tucks the device in his pocket quickly, though not quick enough to hide the conversation on his screen that seemed particularly sweet, judging by the emojis Kieran sent.

"Who's that you're messaging?"

The tips of Kieran's ears are red as he clears his throat, "Don't worry about it. Right then, you found something you liked? Good, then we're done here. I can take Atla again for you on date night so you can have the entire night to yourself, just in case."

"I haven't even told you when my date is," Martin notes. "How do you know you aren't busy?"

"I'll make time, don't worry. Just grab your stuff and let's get out of here- I'm coming with you to pick up my niece from school!"

Martin's steps falter. Those precious minutes Martin has with you when picking up his daughter aren't something he particularly wants to share with Kieran. So Martin is torn, because he knows Atla will love seeing her pseudo-uncle, and won't be happy if she finds out her father kept Kieran from accompanying him. Which, somehow, she always does; for being so young, Atla has a knack for finding things out that she shouldn't. She's forced Martin into explaining things he hadn't expected to more than once, including the infamous 'where do babies come from' question that all parents dread.

"Fine," Martin relents, "I'll let you come with me. But don't say anything to solskin, alright? Just hang out with Attie while I talk to her."

When Martin lets the nickname slip, he regrets it instantly. Kieran visibly bites his tongue to keep his undoubtedly teasing resort at bay, which is a good thing considering Martin would've revoked his approval if he said a word. "That's a compromise I can make. I'll keep my distance, I pinky swear! I'll be a good little lad!"

Martin rolls his eyes at his friend's dramatics. Kieran can be a drama king when he wants to be, which normally isn't something that gets under Martin's skin so easily but lately, with how on edge he feels, Martin is annoyed at more frequent intervals. Thankfully, most of the time he can brush it off and ignore it, like now, and move on.

"Whatever, just don't embarrass me." A big ask considering how Kieran loves to be silly around Atla, but at least Martin can use that as an excuse if needed.

Kieran places a hand on his chest, jaw dropped for dramatic effect, "Me, embarrass my best mate? Never! Have no fear, there's not even alcohol involved… I'll behave!"

And behave Kieran does, despite Martin's fears. Through the checkout process, Kieran doesn't stop babbling about his plans for his upcoming night with Atla. The drive to Atla's white brick school is filled with talk of upcoming matches, allowing Martin to switch off the worrisome part of his brain and tune into his football side.

When he parks, Martin begins to suspect Kieran's perfect behavior is less due to his promise and more so due to the fact that you aren't in the gymnasium when the boys arrive. Kieran's disappointed frown immediately turns into an ear to ear grin when he spots Atla.

"Little blomst!" Kieran calls, capturing Atla's attention. The nickname is the only Norwegian Kieran knows, and he absolutely butchers his accent each time he says it, but Atla loves being called flower by her uncle.

"Onkle Key! Miss Sunshine is sick," Atla declares rather mournfully when Kieran squeezes her in a hug. "She isn't gonna be here all week. That's what Miss. Jane said."

"Is that so?" Martin asks when he grabs Atla's bag and gathers up her coloring sheets. That explains why he can't find you, despite scanning the room for you multiple times. A pang of concern twangs in his chest. You aren't one to call out of school; in fact, Martin cannot remember the last time you've missed a day. Your dedication to your student's education is admirable, so whatever is keeping you home must be nasty.

"Yes, that's so!" Atla's lip juts out in a pout, her arms crossed over her chest. "She's gone forever! She's never coming back-"

"I'm sure she'll be back blomst, dinnae worry! Miss Sunshine is probably feeling under the weather is all."

Atla's pout deepens and her eyes fill with tears. "No she's not- We need to visit her papa!"

Martin's eyes flick to Kieran's. The two share a silent conversation consisting of head tilts and eyebrow raises. Ultimately they draw the same conclusion: how can Martin say no to Atla?

**********

"Go ring the bell, I'll be right here."

Atla's dress and pigtails swish with the movement of her little feet as she fiddles with the brown paper wrappings of the bouquet she picked out. Martin waits, opting to use this as a teaching moment and let Atla work through what she's feeling rather than force her through.

"I'm scared," Atla mumbles, glancing up at the quaint white house. It took some finesse but Martin had gotten your home address under the guise of sending you a warm meal to stave off your sickness. The offer of sending flowers to your doorstep hadn't satisfied Alta however, so now Martin stands with her on the sidewalk, encouraging her to go up to your door.

"Atla, you've met Miss Sunshine loads of times. She isn't scary, is she?" Atla shakes her head. "Exactly. Where's that lionheart of yours? Gunners aren't scared, are they?" Atla shakes her head again, her eyebrows furrowed. "So are you gonna let a couple concrete stairs and a door stop you from making your friend feel better?"

"No," Atla states firmly before starting confidently towards the oak door, raising her little fist and knocking three times. She steps back to wait for an answer, looking up in surprise when the light over her head flickers on a heartbeat before the door swings open.

"Hello- Oh! Atla, what on earth are you doing here?" Your voice is thick, your words heavy like each one weighs a tonne. Martin is overcome with the urge to wrap you in a blanket and shepherd you inside and up to bed. He wants to spend the night sleeping lightly on your sofa, only a shout away if you need him for anything. He doesn't want you to move from your room unless absolutely necessary… he wants to look after you and ensure you're properly nursed to full health.

"These are for you Miss Sunshine," Atla says in her sweet voice, which finally drags Martin out of his head. Your smile is the warmest, most wholesome sight he's ever seen. It fills his heart to the brim as you crouch down to Atla's level, shaking your head when she moves to hug you.

"No hugs today little bug, Miss Sunshine is too sick for that right now. But next week when I'm in class and feeling better, I'll give you an extra hug as a thank you for these beautiful flowers, okay?"

For once, Martin is glad for his busy schedule. If he'd have planned your date for this week and you'd needed to reschedule, he's sure he wouldn't have found the nerve to do so. The rejection, no matter how necessary and warranted it may have been, would've turned him away from you out of embarrassment.

"How are you feeling," Martin asks, unsure of when he'd gotten so close to you. He doesn't remember walking up the steps to your threshold but he stands there now, his hands on his daughter's shoulders.

"I'll be alright," you assure him, followed closely by a wet sniffle. You smile apologetically and Martin waves it off. "I'll be okay by Monday, I promise."

Martin's stomach flips at the mention of the day that could very well change his life. He doesn't want to place too much pressure on it but it's unavoidable. Deep down, Martin knows the outcome of his date with you may alter the course of his life. For better or worse, he has to go through with it.

"It's alright if you're not. Just focus on healing up. Listen to your body- if you need more time, it's alright."

"No it's not!" Atla taps her foot on the pavement, annoyed with her father. You bite your lip to hide your smile and Martin is delighted to see your eyes light up. "You have to come back on Monday Miss Sunshine, it's not the same without you! No one else prints out the right coloring stuff, or picks out the right pencils. You're the most fun!"

"Aw sweetheart, I'll do my best to be back to keep you company! For now, draw me a green elephant. I'll collect it on Monday after school, how's that sound?"

"Okay! That's much better!" Atla throws her arms wide, then remembers your earlier promise and hugs herself instead. Martin finds the entire interaction incredibly endearing, his stomach tying itself in knots when you laugh quietly.

"Well I won't keep you two," you say as you slowly rise to your feet. "I'll see you on Monday, Mar. Good luck at Newcastle this weekend, I'll be watching."

If Atla wasn't here, Martin might have kissed your cheek. Sick or not he wants to, as much as he now wants to score a worldie of a goal on Sunday because he knows you'll be watching him. He wants you to see him play and be proud of him- a thought that catches him off guard because until recently, Atla is the only person he cared about.

Martin has so much to say that his words press painfully behind his teeth. None of it is appropriate to be said in front of Atla however, not when he's trying to keep her as disentangled in whatever is happening between you and him as possible.

"Søta, could you count the flowers in the flowerbed for me quickly?"

"Sure papa!" Atla laughs and climbs down the steps, eager to complete the task her father has given her. Martin has never been more thankful for Atla's unquestioning obedience than he is now, as it grants him the semblance of privacy he needs to be able to speak freely.

"One, two, three, four…"

"What is it Martin?" A tired smile plays on your full lips as you lean in the doorframe. Martin wants to slip under your arm and take your weight for you, but he doesn't dare move an inch for fear he might lose his nerve. If he touches you now, he very well might kiss you, and that's a thought that both scares and excites him. But you deserve better than a kiss when you're not feeling well, and he doesn't want Atla seeing either.

"Mar?"

Martin shakes himself and smiles, hoping you don't question the way he'd zoned out. "I just wanted to ask if you'd like one of my kits to wear on match day." He is careful to keep his tone light and airy. "I could send you one, I have plenty. I don't know how much you know about football but there's a few different ones we wear each season? You could have red, black or pink, whichever you prefer."

You take Martin's slight ramble in stride, nodding along and letting him finish before you respond. "I'd love that Martin, that's very kind of you. I'll take whichever you're wearing this weekend, so we can match… is that alright?"

The mental image of you sat on your sofa in a red and white Arsenal kit- Martin's personal red and white kit at that- is enough to have his mouth drying up. Why does he love the sound of that? He's certain he won't stop picturing it any time soon.

"Sure, yeah I can send you one as soon as I get home tonight. If it's too big or whatever just let me know and I can order one that's actually your size."

Despite your illness, Martin doesn't pull away when you step closer to rest your hand on his arm. "Mar, it'll be perfect. I'll send you a photo of me wearing it on Sunday, okay? Just so you know that I really am cheering for you."

Martin is positive he's fire engine red when he smiles at you. "Okay, sure! Yeah thank you, that would be great." He opens his mouth to say more but decides against it, shaking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself from gravitating towards you when you drop your hand again. "Feel better soon, before Atla has a fit when you're home sick again next week."

"Oh I'll be fit for next week," you reply, "I'm not gonna miss Wednesday, that's for sure. I've been looking forward to it since you asked."

Martin's stomach becomes an acrobat, flipping and tumbling in his belly. God, it's been so long since he's done this- what is he supposed to say to that? Dammit, he should've gone to Kieran for advice because Martin doesn't have a clue how to talk to women like this anymore.

"Um- right well- I should get going," Martin bumbles out, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. "Atla's gotta get some dinner and then finish up her homework so…"

"Of course! Thank you again for the flowers, I really appreciate it." Your smile warms Martin to his core, filling him with a fuzzy feeling he isn't sure how to identify. For now though, he'll suffice with knowing that he's had a positive impact on you tonight, and that he'll get to see you again in only a few days.

After Atla has said her goodbyes, Martin gets her secure in her car seat and heads home. For once the ride is quiet, as Martin is too stuck in his head to ask his daughter his usual routine questions, like how her day went and what she learned. He's too busy remembering the ghost of your touch on his forearm and the heat that coursed through him when your eyes sparked with surprise upon seeing him at your door. Martin likes knowing he can make you happy when you're feeling low; he enjoys helping people, you in particular.

Perhaps the most puzzling part of his day, however, is the way Atla seems equally as drawn to you as he is himself. It's no secret that you're Atla's favorite teacher. The two of you have a deeper bond than average, but not in a way that makes Martin uncomfortable or worried- in fact, he'd trust you with Atla more than he'd trust most of his teammates.

"Papa, do you love Miss Sunshine?"

Atla's question hits Martin like a truck and leaves him gasping for air. "W-what? Atla I- what do you mean søta? I don't understand the question." Only, Martin understands perfectly well. He just isn't sure how his toddler has grown up so quickly that she could ever pick up on something like that.

Atla sighs through her nose, shooting Martin a very teenager-annoyed-with-their-parent look in the rearview. "Pa, you know what I mean! It's the same look uncle Aaron gives auntie Geo- and they're getting married!"

"It is not the same look," Martin grumbles, half convinced he's lying to himself. "That's a very grown up thing to think about, Attie. That's not for you to worry about."

"But I am worried-"

"Atla," Martin says sternly, "that's enough."

Guilt washes over Martin when Atla shrinks in her seat, messing with the zipper of her bookbag. He hates being harsh with her, but his love life isn't something he's willing to discuss with a toddler. He might have to in the future but for now? He's keeping his cards close to his chest.

"Jeg elsker deg pa," Atla murmurs, feet tapping the seat in front of her. Martin sighs, relieved that she didn't take his snap personally.

"Jeg elsker deg, søta. Papa loves you so much."

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #martin odegaard fanfiction #martin Ødegaard #jac writes #alt timeline lover #arsenal fc

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ghostatrandom · 1 year

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THE REDESIGN SAGA CONTINUES

This is a funny one, cause it has problematics faves and one that I truly hate, let's discover which one together!

Cleo Denile: based more on what I found was the royal egyptian attire at the time, but in the form of a full body with pants, making the yellowish tones as the main theme instead of the blues. If I have done a goof with this one I would apreciate the feedback cause I'm not egyptian, and idk much about the culture-.

"I am worthy of a kingdom father, and I would rip my heart to prove it"

Kieran Valentine: just a few chances to simplify his attire, and also gave him the monster characteristics I love so much. Emotional vampires have little hairs on their ears, as well as a more "puppy bat" nose.

"I never loved draculaura! I have never loved any ghoul!"

Spelldon Cauldronello: okay this one was interesting, cause I just had a strong will and Casta Fierce for a reference for this faceless man. Obviously very punk, and very halloween!. He is a creation of Circe (I like the idea that he was created from soil and like, magic stuff). While Casta inherited the wand and the transformation magic. He inherited the innate talents of herbology and potion making.

"A moly tea a day keeps the enchantments away!"

Gillington "Gil" Webber: Oh boy here we are. From all monster high g1 it's safe to say I really really hate Gil's design, like ever since I was little I have hated that man for his design alone.

The only thing I saved from him was the water breathing thing and his ""hair"". But I have him a more indigo blue color palette to make it different from Lagoona. And while I don't support this ship, I also get where both of them are coming from (also if I ever make mini comics this is a juicy story I would love to write)

"Why "us" needs to be so complicated? Why can't I do something right?"

Now that I have most of the main cast of characters on character sheets I can finally start a process of "writting an actual mini comic and not procastinating"

Will see how that one goes but hey let's have some hope-

You can support me on my KO FI

•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•°●°•○•

#fanart #art #digitalart #sketch #character redesign #character design #monster high #mh #alternate universe #cleo de nile #kieran valentine #spelldon cauldronello #gill webber #my art

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tealmaskmybeloved · 4 months

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i do wonder what pecharunt’s in game goal was apart from causing mischief

Yeah, it's one of my main problems with the DLC and Epilouge. Nothing is really explained.

Why did Pecharunt want to control everyone and made em do the mochicken dance?

Why does Carmine and everyone else say "Mochi" when the old couple (in the Untold Story of Pecharunt) didn't, or at the very least, were able to express what they wanted or anything??

Why did Kieran have a purple mist briefly appear near his hand when he punched the Loyal 3 shrine that was the same as when Pecharunt controls people?

If Pecharunt just wanted love, why didn't it have the town of Mossui love it, like give it gifts or whatever?

What brought the Loyal 3 back? Was Kieran's anger and hatred? Was it the Teal Mask? Was it Pecharunt?

We don't freaking know!

What were Pecharunt's motives? What did it seek to gain from this? Why the stupid dance?

The answer is probably just... because. Because the story needs an antagonist and that's it.

Now, I'm not against GameFreak doing story based events for mythical Pokémon. In fact, I 100% support it. But with Pecharunt's story... it just doesn't work.

And yes, it is good to leave some of the things up to interpretation, it makes it more fun and can open discussion in a community. But when some of them are and most of them aren't, you can kind of understand my frustration.

Also the Untold Story of Pecharunt SHOULD HAVE been in the actual game.

And if you're wondering how they could have implemented this, I'm glad you asked!

1. Get the Mythical Pecha Berry

2. Get Terapagos

3. Go to the Crystal Pool

4. Meet the old couple who tell the protag about Pecharunt and maybe be like "Hey here's its deal and tell it we're sorry for all this"

5. Pecharunt gets to say goodbye and stuff

I did think of this off of the top of my head, so I might polish it a bit but yeah that's my first idea on how to do this.

Point is, there should have been SOMETHING explaining Pecharunt's backstory.

Oh jeez that was a lot of talking. Sorry about that

#ask and ye shall receive #pokemon #pecharunt #pokemon dlc spoilers #pokemon dlc #the untold story of pecharunt #mochi mayhem #pokemon kieran

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queerliblib · 11 months

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Fundraiser Update!

Hi Tumblr! Kieran from QLL here with a fundraiser update! We've already hit two-thirds of our fundraising goal, which is absolutely bananas, thank you for your support so far! That $15,000 goal looks more and more attainable every day. It kinda looks like we're gonna have to build you guys a queer library? Omg?

In the meantime, there's still one more weekend of Pride Month left! Still some time to celebrate! And we've got a little something for you, if you're up for it!

These are some quartersheet flyers that you can print out (at work perhaps) and share! Hand them out at your city's Pride events! Leave a stack at a local coffee shop! Pin them to a community billboard! Make it an outing with your buds to stop at all your favorite locales and drop some off! The QR code leads directly to the fundraiser.

As much as we adore our internet friends, we want to make sure that this project also reaches people who are slightly less terminally online than we are. Because they probably want to read queer books too!

Again. Thank you so much, tumblr. We love you so much, and we're so grateful for your support. <3

#queer liberation library #qll #lets build a gay library together!#lgbt books #fundraiser update #gay books #is booklr a phrase people use?#booklr #i haven't been on tumblr since 2017 i'm sorry i forget how to do the things and be funny

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wingsonghalo · 2 months

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A Match(a) Made in Heaven: a Pokémon Fanfic- Chapter 1

Hello everyone!

I posted this on Ao3 yesterday so I figured I should post it over here too. About a month ago, I started talking about the potential of shipping Carmine and Penny with @forwortuntodawn. Penny calls her pretty, Carmine loves being called pretty; they'd both be snarky together; their personalities would balance each other out... there's so much to love about them! Eventually I dragged several other friends into the CarPen pit with me, and here we are.

An extra-special thank you to the aforementioned KC, my #1 Beta Bestie and COO of CarPen. Rarepair Hell's more like heaven with you. Thank you also to two other dear friends, @smilelikeaknife and @litlyre, who along with KC are the KEWLest writer pals ever. You all give me something to strive for, and I admire you all so much! Thank you for all your encouragement and all the laughs. Just as before, this and all CarPen content is for you. 💖💖💖

I hope you take a chance on this pairing, reader. I promise I will do my best to make it worth the read!

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Title: A Match(a) Made in Heaven Fandom: Pokémon Scarlet and Violet Pairing(s): Carmine x Penny, Arven x Juliana Wordcount for this chapter: 6,549 Summary: "Hey, Red-n'-Blue," she murmured out the side of her mouth, "am I crazy, or is Juli putting out mad vibes with the tall chef guy?" The shorter girl's gray eyes looked up at her. An eyebrow stretched towards her multicolored bangs. "You ARE crazy if you think we're going to gossip about my friends before you even learn our names, Stretch." Carmine ropes Penny into her plans to get Arven and Juliana together, but she might end up focused on more than just that relationship... Carmine x Penny and Juliana x Arven! Also available on: Ao3 Support me on: Patreon | Ko-fi

A Match(a) Made in Heaven

Chapter 1: A Pact

Despite what anyone else, especially her brother, might say, Carmine was totally a generous and thoughtful person.

No, really!

She carefully observed others to determine things about them—their emotional state, their likes and dislikes, where they'd come from, their social status, all that type of stuff. Sure, sometimes her observations included just asking other well-informed individuals about persons of interest, but that was its own kind of savvy too, wasn't it? You had to know who to ask, after all.

One of the things that captured Carmine's interest the most lately was the romantic entanglements of her peers. She was a teenage girl and found such matters of the heart fascinating (It had nothing to do with "needing more hobbies" or being "too nosy for your own good, sis," thank you very much, Kieran. Hmph. As if he could talk, when his hobbies were 1) fanboying about an old legend, 2) obsessively training in Pokémon battles, and 3) there was no 3; that was the end of the list). And yeah, maybe sometimes she wished that the romantic drama involved her once in a while, but whatever. Being an observer was cool. Carmine was fine with just sitting on the sidelines. Absolutely. 100%.

It was fine, okay?!

Anyway, she'd recently met a girl from Paldea on a school trip. Juliana was her name. Short, dainty, shiny chestnut-colored hair, big sparkly cinnamon-brown eyes, perfect smile (not as perfect as her own, of course), magnetic personality. She was almost annoyingly cute, like a little mascot designed for people to immediately latch onto. Carmine had initially just thought of her as another lame outsider who'd come to goggle at their tiny backwater hometown. A good-for-nothing tourist.

Juliana had not been a good-for-nothing tourist.

Instead, she had been… probably the second genuine friend Carmine had ever had, after Amarys. She'd been Kiki's first genuine friend. Juliana had taken everything both siblings had thrown at her in stride, and still emerged from the mangled mess of misplaced resentment and jealousy and distrust as their ally and confidante. Though it pained Carmine to admit it, she owed much of her newfound understanding with her brother to Juliana.

(It pained her to admit it, and that was why Carmine had no intention of doing so to anyone but herself. Maybe Juliana, sometime, if Carmine was feeling generous; which, as we've established, was frequently, okay?)

The point was, Juliana was an almost impossibly good person and everyone liked her. Even Kieran had been irresistibly drawn into her thrall at first, totally infatuated within minutes of meeting her, despite Carmine's continual insistence that he not get suckered by anyone who pretended to be interested in lame ol' Mossui Town, talent in Pokémon battling notwithstanding. (Didn't he know that was how evil land development companies got their claws into vulnerable little rural towns, sending people out to get information from unsuspecting yokels before turning on them and erecting a mall or whatever?!) In this one particular instance, however, her caution had been unwarranted: Juliana really was the compassionate, pure-hearted little angel she appeared to be, except in battle, where she suddenly became a demon (or an ogre?) with an angel's face. Carmine had been forced to confront the fact that she had—inadvertently, mind—been keeping herself and her brother confined to their own little world, never letting anyone else get too close until Juliana waltzed in with that silly little cherubic smile of hers. She seemed to exist just to break them out of their shells, to get them to open their eyes to all the people and places they'd never cared to look at before.

It was because of this fresh perspective on things, this newly-discovered consideration for things outside her usual bubble, that Carmine came to be curious about Juliana's feelings.

At first, she was only interested because Kieran was all googly-eyed over her. She had to scope out anyone who might eventually become part of their family, right? She couldn't let anyone get all buddy-buddy with her brother if they were just going to break his heart.

(It turned out that her efforts to watch over the two of them, to protect her brother's feelings and safety, had only cemented Kieran getting his heart broken—though not for the reasons she feared.)

(Whatever, Carmine wasn't thinking about that right now. Not again.)

Juliana had treated her brother with kindness, acceptance, and good humor. She had always worn a gentle smile, and frequently asked Kieran what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, what he thought about things.

Actually, she had been so considerate of Kiki that at times Carmine had found herself wondering whether Juliana had any thoughts or desires of her own.

This willingness to let others take the lead had nearly tricked Carmine into believing that Juliana was weak-willed, but it turned out that their new friend was merely one of those people that kept their own thoughts hidden for fear of hurting others.

Hmph. Like that ever turned out well.

(Carmine did not envy Juliana's selfless nature. Not one bit… that she would ever admit to out loud, anyway.)

Regardless, she had gleaned from her careful observation—and okay fine, consulting other people—that Juliana was not interested in Kiki. Not in a romantic context, anyway. She seemed to dote on him in an almost sisterly way, which Carmine tried not to be too offended by. Kiki already had the world's best sister, thank you very much. But she understood. Kieran had a way of making you want to protect him, take care of him, even when he was being an antisocial little jerk.

Or maybe that was just Carmine that felt that way, because it was Kiki.

Whatever; not important.

Where was she? Oh yeah. Juli friendzoning (brotherzoning?) Carmine's brother.

Though at first she had wondered what the hell Juliana's problem was in not responding to Kieran's obvious infatuation, Carmine was almost positive she knew the reason for it now:

Juliana was already in love with somebody.

For an annoyingly long time, she'd been stumped as to who the object of her friend's affections could be. Juli tended to treat everyone with the same level of friendliness and warmth, so it could have been anyone from back home in Paldea, or maybe one of her fellow students in the BB League Club, or perhaps even Carmine herself, if Juliana had had any taste.

(Okay, she at least knew it wasn't herself, but honestly, why not?! She was a catch, damn it!)

But as soon as Juli's closest friends from Paldea visited Kitakami—and, well, as soon as Carmine was no longer a mochi zombie—it had become pretty glaringly obvious who had captured her inscrutable Paldean pal's heart.

She lingered around him even when she didn't need to, sticking close at his side; glancing back at him when she got too far ahead; tucking her hair behind her ear as her warm brown eyes shyly flickered up to glimpse him. When he walked into a room, Carmine swore she could watch little flames spark to life in Juliana's eyes, see her smile spread like a spring bud opening its petals.

It would have been adorable, if it wasn't so hard to watch.

The guy—what was his name again? Carmine still hadn't committed it to memory—seemed just as enamored with Juliana. His gaze followed her as if magnetized whenever she moved around, wonder reflecting in his pretty turquoise eye, as if the short girl was an awe-inspiring sunset. He hovered around her like he was her guard dog, fixing an intimidating glare on anyone who dared get too close to his "little buddy," as he called her. He could have made a pretty good living as a bouncer or a bodyguard, with those muscular arms, wide shoulders supporting the most ridiculously oversized backpack Carmine had ever seen, and brooding expression that warned others to keep their distance… but it couldn't have been more clear that there was only one person he wanted to protect. He was gorgeous, honestly, but he seemed devoted to Juliana to the point where he could barely see anyone else, so he usually came off as surly and reserved unless she was around, at which point he pulled a complete 180 and became jovial and perfectly gentlemanly. What was his deal? Had Juli saved his life or something?

Despite his obvious admiration of her, he seemed content to just be near her, like she was the sun and he was a pathetic little weed growing by the side of the road. Juliana, similarly, seemed happy to just exist beside him. Evidently they weren't an item. Carmine wasn't even sure if either of them were aware that they looked at one another like the other person was an oasis in a desert.

She needed more context from someone who had been around them longer. Luckily, Juliana had brought two more of her female friends with her for this little visit, both of whom had also fallen victim to that renegade wannabe air-freshener's mind-control mochi.

The taller one was kind of intimidating. She had the reckless sort of hyperactive energy that Carmine was usually only used to seeing in wriggly Lillipup that hadn't been housetrained yet and knocked the fine china off the walls. She was friendly, but frankly, Carmine was afraid if she struck up a conversation with her, she would demand another 5 battles.

That left the other one—a small, scrawny girl with short, brightly-colored two-toned hair, enormous glasses, a frumpy gray sweater, and the cutest little Eevee backpack the world had ever known. She seemed quiet, her bespectacled eyes always moving over her surroundings like she was scanning them into a database. Or perhaps she was simply zoning out and was just very good at pretending otherwise. The few times Carmine had heard her speak, a rather posh Galarian accent had emerged, which had somewhat startled Carmine at first but now sort of fascinated her. Did she say so little because she was self-conscious about her accent, or did she just truly have little to say?

She intended to find out as she sidled up to her, her eyes still fixed on Juliana and What's-His-Face engaged in lively conversation. "Hey, Red-n'-Blue," she murmured out the side of her mouth, "am I crazy, or is Juli putting out mad vibes with the tall chef guy?"

The shorter girl's gray eyes looked up at her. An eyebrow stretched towards her multicolored bangs. "You are crazy if you think we're going to gossip about my friends before you even learn our names, Stretch," she said, and it kind of wasn't fair how her accent made everything she said sound more intelligent.

Carmine frowned. "Well, I bet you can't tell me mine either!"

The girl in the sweater shrugged, crossing her arms. "Make yourself more memorable, and then I'll consider it."

She scoffed, her temper beginning to flare already as she clenched a hand into a fist by her side. "How rude! Anyone would find a face like mine memorable!"

A smirk lifted one corner of the other girl's mouth. "Maybe the face you're making now, sure—talk about scary."

Carmine's mouth dropped open in shock, and then her other hand curled into a fist as well. "I—you—how dare you!" she sputtered. Her face was filling with indignant heat, but when her nails bit into her palms, the unexpected sensation worked to ground her. She'd just met this frumpy little runt; why was she letting her rile her up? She let her eyes fall closed, took a deep breath, and let it out before opening her eyes once more and staring right into those cold, appraising ones. "Yes, I agree, I'm so beautiful it can be scary," she fired back smoothly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But if it helps you remember me, fine. The name's Carmine." She threw out her best charming smile, the one she was fairly sure had stolen the hearts of many a wretched suitor that was simply too awed by her radiance to approach her. "Don't make me repeat it."

An intense thrill of satisfaction buzzed down her spine at the sight of those gray eyes widening behind the big round lenses, pale, slightly-sunken cheeks coloring slightly. "Hmph," was all the other girl said, though, as she averted her gaze and fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater. "I remembered your name anyway because your brother said it before, but whatever… guess your face is plenty memorable too."

Ha! It was big of her to admit it. "And you?" Carmine prompted, resting her hands on her hips.

The shorter girl locked eyes with her again, silent for a moment before thrusting out her hand. "Penny," she said, and Carmine read a challenge in the determined set of her mouth. "Better remember mine too, or I'm never telling you a thing about Arven."

Carmine was never one to back down from a challenge. "Nice to meet you, Penny," she purred as she squeezed Penny's hand. A grin crept across her face. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…"

"I have a feeling I just made a pact with a demon," Penny replied mildly, but there was a smile growing on her face as well.

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

Penny, Carmine would soon discover as they walked around the festival the next evening after making their little deal, was rather difficult to get information out of… unless you knew what to offer her in return.

Having used the rest of yesterday to talk to Penny about Kieran's and her own history with Juliana, she had decided that today she would focus on inquiring about Juliana's history with Arven. But she hadn't gotten any further than asking, "So like, what's their deal? How did they meet?" before Penny was raising an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.

"What, you want all this intel for free?" Her usual gray ensemble, which usually served to help her blend in, now stood out like a sore thumb amid all the festivalgoers in their traditional jinbei and sandals, but it was Penny's own fault for not accepting any of the clothes Carmine's grandparents had offered, in Carmine's opinion.

Carmine scoffed at the other girl's audacity, frustrated at being shut down before she'd even gotten her first bit of information. She had brought a small drawstring money purse for the festival, of course, but she'd really been planning on using it for—hey wait a second, why was she even considering paying this twerp for answering such a basic question?! "I don't think this really counts as 'intel'!" she huffed, attempting to toss her hair before remembering that Grandma had put it in an updo for her. "I could just ask Juli about it for free!" Juliana was probably wandering from stall to stall with Arven right about now, actually, their hands close enough to touch, but neither of them daring to close the distance. Even the thought of it was irritating.

"Hmm, you could," said Penny, nodding with a half-smile like Carmine had just passed some sort of secret test. She plucked a bit of Carmine's cotton candy without asking, then popped it into her mouth and silently dared Carmine to comment on it with the quirk of an eyebrow. "So why don't you, then?"

Carmine contemplated that for a minute. While it was true she could hear this straight from the source, she had a sneaking suspicion that Juliana would become flustered and evasive if she tried to probe her for information about Arven. "Juli's the type to downplay her own victories and gas up everyone else's," she finally settled on, also taking a nibble of her fluffy pink festival food. "And Arven…" She snorted. "If I asked him, I'd probably just get a sermon about how great Juliana is."

Penny's eyes were glinting behind her glasses. "Wowww," she said, drawing out the word in a way that was simultaneously sarcastic and yet mildly impressed. "Maybe you do have more than two brain cells knocking around in that pretty head of yours."

"Hey!" said Carmine sharply, and then a moment later, more hesitantly, "You think my head is pretty?"

The other girl just stifled a laugh, which was vexing. It had been a legitimate question! "All right, Carmine," Penny said after stealing another bit of sugary fluff, "the truth is I wasn't around for when they met, so I only know what they've told me. What I can tell you about firsthand is the perilous adventure we all went on that brought the four of us together as friends, buuuut…" She peered around at all the festival stalls, her gaze landing on the shaved ice. "I'm feeling kinda parched since I'm not used to talking so much…" Shrewd gray eyes flickered up to meet hers, prompting.

Carmine sighed. "What flavor might quench your thirst?" she asked flatly.

"Raspberry, please," Penny chirped, a bit of a spring in her step as they made their way over to the shaved ice stand, Carmine pulling out her purse.

***

"That's… that's so sweet!" Carmine burst out after Penny concluded her story. She blamed the thickness in her throat on the sugary cherry syrup, hiding her sniffle by ducking her head to take another bite of the shaved ice. "I can't believe she was there for him when he had to say goodbye to the Professor… geez, I thought Kiki and I had issues about our parents, but at least they were all right while they were around…" She clamped her mouth shut as she realized she'd gotten a little personal there with no preamble, and glanced over at her companion to gauge her reaction. She'd found herself rambling a bit yesterday, too, come to think of it.

Just as before when Carmine had accidentally entered Backstory Mode, Penny's expression hadn't changed, mostly because she was still digging into her blue-raspberry ice with a gusto that would suggest her little plastic spoon was actually an icepick. "Meh. We've kind of all got family issues of varying types," she said once she'd dislodged a syrup-soaked chunk to fling into her mouth. "Crazy that Arven's involved a time machine and a scavenger hunt for magic plants though, I'll give him that."

Oh, and the plants…! Carmine's eyes prickled with emotion at the reminder of the supplemental information Penny had provided—the part about Juliana helping to restore Arven's beloved partner Pokémon, Mabosstiff, to full health after he'd been injured by one of those crazy violent Pokémon the Professor had brought to this time period. Carmine couldn't even imagine something like that happening to her precious Mightyena. The mere notion of it made her lip wobble.

Yes, she thought as she plunged her spoon into the red ice for another mouthful of fake-fruity deliciousness, if someone had helped her save her Pokémon and then journeyed with her to a lawless pit to confront her own family issues, Carmine would also be hopelessly devoted to whoever it was. Her heart would start up a beat like those taiko drums making a racket over there every time she saw them, too. Arven looking at Juliana like the sun shone out of her ass made a lot more sense now. By comparison, Kiki's fascination with her when they'd first met seemed shallow, almost fanciful. Kieran had seen in Juliana a hero from a storybook that he longed to emulate and look up to, not a real-life hero who would take him by the hand to save him personally. It was no wonder Juliana had scarcely noticed the awed looks from Carmine's brother, if she was already used to being looked at like Arven looked at her. "Okay, y'know what?" Carmine decided. "I'm officially on board. I'm getting those two together."

For a few seconds there was only faint crunching as Penny stared at her and devoured her shaved ice. She had a lot of nerve looking at Carmine like she was the silly little child, when Penny was the one who had blue syrup dripping down her chin. "You think you can do that, huh?" she deadpanned. "You got the knowledge and tools to back up that confidence, toots?"

"W-Well…" Carmine pursed her lips and frowned, quite certain no one had said the word toots since last century. "No, I guess I don't…" If she could just win Penny over, she might have a chance, though.

In a move perhaps influenced by the Big Sister Instinct left over from when Kiki had been a baby, Carmine impulsively grabbed Penny's chin and used one of the napkins in her lap to wipe away the dribbling syrup. "But I do have you!" she finished her earlier statement, putting on her world-class charming smile again.

Penny, who had completely frozen up like the ice still lingering in her paper cup at the unexpected contact, blinked widened eyes before quickly regaining her composure. "Hmph," she scoffed, turning her face away and muttering something that sounded like maybe sometime if you're lucky. The flickering orange light cast by the standing stone lanterns near them made her cheeks look as if they were glowing pink.

"What?" said Carmine, having been unable to hear her words well over the din of the festival.

"I said shipping my friends is yucky!" the shorter girl growled as she faced Carmine again. Actually, maybe it was more than the lighting—her whole face looked slightly pink.

Carmine tilted her head slightly, perplexed. She could have sworn those weren't the same words Penny had muttered, but oh well. It probably hadn't been anything important. Things other people said scarcely ever were.

"Anyway..." Penny tossed her empty shaved ice cup into the trash can next to their bench, and Carmine wrinkled her nose as the shorter girl proceeded to wipe her hands on her leggings rather than just using a napkin. "I'm surprised you're not angling for Juliana to date your brother, actually. Weren't you going on about how good of an influence she is on him yesterday?"

She blinked, surprised that Penny had actually been listening then. Carmine had indeed rambled on about that a bit while explaining what Juliana had done for her and her brother, but as Penny had been tapping away at her phone the whole time and only giving an occasional yeah and oh, mm-hmm, she'd thought it hadn't really sunk in. "Well, it's true that I thought she might be good for him at first," she admitted, poking at her melting cherry ice a little, "but now that I reflect on things a bit more, maybe what Kieran needed was just… support." Her shoulders slumped as guilt pressed down on her again. "Support I shoulda been better at givin' him in the first place, as his family." Her voice, which had accidentally slipped a little into the vernacular Kieran still spoke with, was quiet. "I was just lookin' for Juli to solve my problems," she finished in a murmur.

"Psh." Penny's scoff made her sit up ramrod straight again, head whipping over in indignation. The expression Carmine saw on the other girl's face wasn't disdain or mockery, however. There was a wry smile lifting one half of her mouth, and a complicated sort of furrow between her brows. "Welcome to the club," she said, and Carmine realized that the look on her face was the same one Kieran wore whenever he said things like All that stuff happened 'cause no matter how strong my team got, my heart stayed weak or I get why no one would wanna waste their time on me anymore... no one to blame but myself, I s’pose. It looked like regret. Self-deprecation.

Had Juliana played a part in saving all of her friends from themselves, Carmine wondered?

Before she could ask about it, though, Penny was shrugging, watching a little kid in an Eevee mask tear up the stairs despite his father's protests that he slow down. "Well, good on you for realizing it, at least," Penny said as her eyes followed the kid's movement. "Guess you're not the oblivious princess you seem to be."

"I seem like a princess?" Carmine's voice was hopeful.

Penny's gaze snapped to meet hers again in surprise, and this time when she laughed, she didn't stifle the joyful sound. Her eyes crinkled up, and the unguarded smile that broke her usual deadpan facade seemed to transform her. "How... how is that what you got out of that statement?" she asked incredulously, shaking her head as she almost doubled over.

She was laughing at Carmine. Carmine should have been outraged. But somehow, hearing Penny laugh felt like witnessing a rare natural phenomenon—like a rain shower in the sunlight, or something like that. She couldn't help but avert her eyes, confused at the strange bubbly feeling that had just sparked in her stomach. An answering smile crept across her face without her realizing it.

"Okay, Your Highness," Penny said, laughter still lingering on the edges of her words as she got to her feet. "This has been fun, but I've gotta get my hands on one of those masks now."

"What?" Carmine's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "I thought you didn't want to dress up for the festival!" And after she'd been offered the cutest jinbei, too!

"That was before I knew there was an Eevee mask." There was a particular sparkle in Penny's eyes that reminded Carmine of Kieran's whenever he used to get hyped up about the ogre legend (though she guessed she could no longer call it a legend). "I will obtain one of those masks or die trying," she declared solemnly.

"Did you not see how terrifying it looked on that kid?" Carmine pointed out, getting up as well and throwing out her empty shaved ice cup. "I get that you like Eevees, but you're gonna make kids scream if you walk around in that." Heck, Juliana's other Paldean friend, Nemona, had already frightened people earlier, barreling up to passersby to ask for Pokémon battles wearing that uncanny Pikachu mask she'd bought.

"It's the principle of the thing," Penny informed her with a shrug, jamming her hands in her sweater pocket. "I see Eevee things, I get Eevee things. Also, I want to get back at Nemona for that hideous Pikachu mask."

"Fair enough."

Penny hadn't invited Carmine to keep walking around the festival with her, but somehow that was how it turned out. They went from stall to stall, arms close enough to touch, but both of them comfortable enough to not worry about it.

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Carmine was used to being the one who could wheedle others into doing what she wanted. Once she figured out someone's weakness, it was only too easy to use it to her advantage. From the time she was a little girl, Carmine had become a master of sucking up to influential distant relatives who might throw some financial support her family's way; of flattering popular kids so they allowed her to hang around them and left her brother alone; of flirting with stupid teenaged tourists who were hoping to sucker an ignorant little country girl but ended up getting bled dry themselves instead. It had become somewhat more difficult the older she got—teens and adults were much harder to dupe than children, after all, and as cunning as she was, her wits regrettably almost never exceeded those of richer, more well-connected peers or socially-savvy adults—but for the most part, she was still fairly confident in her abilities.

With her newest acquaintance, though, she found that she had somehow become the sucker in this equation, continually promised juicy tidbits of information which were withheld from her until she provided some sort of compensation. She would have been angrier about it, if she wasn't so begrudgingly impressed. Penny wasn't even fake-nice about her demands like Carmine would have been—she would just hold out her hand and say, "What do you have to make it worth my while this time?"

Despite this, though, Carmine didn't dislike hanging around Penny during the 3 extra days the Paldean friends spent in Kitakami after the festival had concluded. Her snarky, quietly muttered remarks often made Carmine stifle snorts of laughter, she was surprisingly easy to talk to (if you didn't mind being looked at like you were an idiot), and she was content to let Carmine have all the attention in social situations if she could linger in the background. She'd also called Carmine pretty a few times, though she wasn't sure whether the other girl really meant it as a compliment or a mocking statement.

As for Arven and Juliana, she couldn't find many opportunities to ask them questions about one another (plus Penny said she shouldn't bother them on their vacation, and well, that was valid, she supposed), and it was a bit difficult to observe them without making them suspicious (Penny had also called her a voyeur when she attempted to follow them, and had dragged her away with a strength Carmine hadn't known she had).

It was fine, though. Those two lovebirds were definitely going to get together, especially now that she had recruited one more Cupid (albeit a reluctant one)! Even when Carmine couldn't be there back in Paldea, Penny would keep her updated on any updates via messaging.

"You will keep me updated on any developments on the Juli-and-Arven thing, right?" Carmine pressed her partner in crime—matchmaking, she meant; her partner in matchmaking—as the 4 Paldean students waited at the bus stop for their ride to the airport. Carmine and Kieran had of course accompanied them to say goodbye.

Penny rolled her eyes and sighed. Her hair was still sticking up a little in the back, and there were circles under her eyes that stood out against her pale skin—evidently, she wasn't the best at waking up in the morning. Though the summertime insects cried out noisily and the birds cheeped in the trees, the early morning light was still a sleepy orange haze on the horizon. "Yeah, yeah. But you know it's not gonna happen faster with us scrutinizing it, right? The watched pot never boils and all that?"

"I've never heard that saying," said Carmine primly, lying through her teeth.

The shorter girl pushed up one side of her glasses to rub at her eye with the heel of her hand as she yawned, not even bothering to hide it. It reminded Carmine a little of how Ninetales yawned. "Well," said Penny when she could speak again, "thanks for hanging out with me during this visit, I guess, though I know you had ulterior motives." She fixed Carmine with a lopsided smile. "Despite the crappy cell service and you dragging me around to spy on my friends, I still had fun. I'll kinda miss it here."

Carmine abruptly realized that she had made a friend, completely by accident, and was now going to have to say goodbye to her.

"I… I'll miss having everyone here, too," she blurted, words clumsy with the unfamiliar sentiment. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she felt fidgety all of a sudden. "But don't be a stranger, all right? You can message me—"

"—if there are any developments with those two; I know," Penny finished with another sigh.

"For any reason," Carmine corrected her firmly, taking a step closer. "You can message me whenever you want." She held out her hand like Penny had done not so long ago. "We're… we're friends now, right?"

Penny stared at Carmine's outstretched hand, eyebrows raised, and then lifted her eyes to lock onto Carmine's. What she saw must have reassured her, because a quiet smile stretched across her face, and she returned the handshake, her small hand cool against Carmine's. "Sure," she said. It might have sounded dismissive from someone else, but the warmth in that single word told Carmine that her acceptance was genuine.

Carmine grinned, joy sparking bright in her chest like a firecracker, as she squeezed her new friend's hand.

After Juliana had hugged Carmine and Kieran both about 3 more times, and goodbyes were exchanged all around, the bus arrived, and the 4 Paldean visitors were on their way.

"I'm surprised ya got so close with them, Sis," Kieran pointed out as they trekked back to Mossui Town from the bus stop. "You're usually so eager for outsiders to get out as soon as possible."

Carmine hummed, her eyes following the Yanma as they came to light gracefully on the standing pools of water in the rice paddies, only to flit away again moments later with a quiet buzz of their wings. "Maybe some outsiders aren't so bad. I wouldn't have minded if they'd stayed longer," she admitted.

Kieran gawped at her. "Wowzers," he breathed, almost tripping on a stone in the road. "Sounds like you're growin' up."

She reached her foot over to kick at his heel playfully. "I don't want to hear that from my little brother. And eyes on the road or you'll go toppling into a pit, dummy."

Kieran stuck out his tongue at her. "I'll just pull you in with me," he promised, and then took off at a jog ahead of her. "Race ya back to the house!"

She couldn't help but smile. Only a month ago or so, Kieran would never have let himself act so childishly. It felt like catching a glimpse of the little brother she'd known while they grew up, chasing each other around Kitakami Road with sticks, laughing and smiling despite the skinned knees and bandaged elbows and muddy shoes. "No fair; you got a head start!" she complained, breaking into a run to catch up.

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Her phone chimed, and Carmine immediately snatched it up to check it. As she'd suspected, it was a reply from Penny.

she's sitting across from him at lunch. but before u ask: no i don't think they're playing footsie

She suppressed a laugh and merely smiled, tapping out a reply: Well, maybe you should put the idea in their heads!

and how do u suggest i do that miss mind control?

Carmine let a snort escape at that before starting on another reply.

"Sis?"

Kieran's voice pulled her back down to earth from the little world she always went to when she was texting Penny. Her eyes found him, gazing at her perplexed from where he sat at his desk. Carmine was sprawled out across his bed, having come here to get some quiet study time since Kieran rarely had guests at his dorm room. "What?" she prompted him.

"I've been tryin' to get your attention for the last couple minutes," said Kieran, frowning at her. "Are you textin' that Eevee girl again?" He shook his head. "Seems like you're talkin' to her all day sometimes."

"Her name is Penny," Carmine sniffed, sitting up straighter and pointedly putting the phone aside, "and I do not text her all day." They’d have to be in the same time zone to do that, she reasoned to herself.

Kieran looked unconvinced. "Sure. Look, I'm glad ya have a friend an' all, but if you're just gonna sit there and text the whole time, why bother comin' to my room to do it?"

"Your room's quieter," she defended herself. "And is it so unusual that I would want to spend time with my precious baby brother?"

"Yes," Kieran deadpanned, raising his eyebrows. "Seems to me like you're just usin' me and Penny to procrastinate doin' any work."

She scoffed in feigned outrage, even though he'd partially hit the mark. "How rude!"

Privately, though, she was glad he hadn't caught on to her additional motive: keeping tabs on Kieran. Ever since he'd fallen into that self-destructive spiral of his last semester, she'd been trying to keep a closer watch on him when they returned to Blueberry Academy. She’d been haunted by the memory of being so powerless, and was determined to prevent it from ever happening again. Every now and then she was still plagued with nightmares about Kieran descending alone into a shadowy pit; Kieran's eyes, cold and devoid of light; Kieran's cheeks becoming more sunken and gaunt until his uncanny smile became that of a grinning skull's. She would wake up gasping, eyes sticky with unshed tears, a scream still caught in the back of her throat as fear and guilt clashed in her stomach.

She'd been so grateful for Juliana sticking her nose where it didn't belong back then. But there was a part of her that still felt… bitter. Wounded. Someone without any siblings had had to come along and do a better job of pulling Kieran's head out of his ass than she could, and as thankful as Carmine was that Juliana had been that someone, it had also left her with her pride as a big sister damaged.

Surprisingly, Penny had proven to be a great source of comfort in that regard. It turned out that she was a little sibling herself, and recently, whenever Carmine found herself worried about Kiki, she'd message Penny, who would usually tell her to stop hovering over him and let him make his own mistakes. She'd also advised just telling Kieran that she was concerned about him, but she couldn't do that, could she?

just be honest and tell him ur worried, Penny had said the last time Carmine consulted her about this. or if u can't do that, at least threaten to forcefeed him a vegetable. my big sis said that to me once. it was obnoxious but i guess the sentiment's appreciated, lol.

"I… want to make sure you're eating properly," she ventured, catching Kieran's attention before he went back to studying from his textbook. "You lost so much weight before, Kiki…"

Carmine caught the way her brother's eyes widened for a moment before he looked away, putting on a nonchalant face. "I eat fine," he grumbled, his cheeks coloring slightly. "And even if I didn't, what're you gonna do about it? You can't even make tea without Sinistcha's help…"

She jumped off the bed, catching Kiki in a headlock and grinding her knuckles into his dark hair with her other hand. "You've got a lotta nerve insulting your big sister like that! I can totally cook if I want to!"

"Agh, no, not the noogie!" Kieran squawked, flailing in her grip. "All right, fine, you can cook, geez!"

"You're darn right I can!" Satisfied, she released him, popping her hands on her hips. "But I don't feel like it, so I'm going to treat you to a meal instead. Feel free to tell me how generous I am."

Kieran sighed, but there was a reluctant smile on his face as he smoothed his hair back down. "You're a real piece of work, Sis," he said, but Carmine heard the gratitude hidden behind the complaint.

Well, either that, or Carmine was very good at only hearing what she wanted to hear. She'd been told things like that before.

She made a mental note to thank Penny for her advice as she and her brother made their way to the Cafeteria.

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Next time: Penny comes to Blueberry as a special coach, and both girls go to a party! I hope you'll look forward to it, and thank you for reading! 💕

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #arviana #carpen #stuff i write #carmine #penny of team star #rival kieran #indigo disk #mochi madness

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