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#And now we have a recipe for trying to take on the burden of 'protecting someone' from your feelings
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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obviously hanguang-jun would wear sports bras…. right?
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Wei Wuxian failed his perception and insight check rolls.
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princessmacedon · 4 months
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Maria von Medon, a noble specializing in Faith magic and a student of the Blue Lions. This unit values connecting with others. Try recruiting her again when you've formed more bonds? (RECRUITMENT REQUIREMENTS: have at least three B supports.)
PERSONAL INFORMATION
GENDER. female AGE. 15 -> 17 HEIGHT. 5'2" BIRTHDATE. April 5th CREST / HOLY BLOOD. n/a CLASS. Blue Lions student AFFILIATION. Macedon, and later the United Kingdom of Archanea BIOGRAPHY. The youngest princess of the former Kingdom of Macedon, now part of the Archanean Alliance. She holds great curiosity toward the world and all its sights, but most importantly, she loves to meet and befriend others. Came to Fódlan to improve her preexisting skills, learn new ones, and become overall more capable; secretly, she hoped to find her brother again as well.
PERSONAL HISTORY
Year 594 - Princess Maria of Macedon is born, the youngest of three.
Year 598 - King Osmond of Macedon is assassinated, and Michalis succeeds the throne.
Year 600 - Michalis asks Maria to become a hostage to Dohlr; Maria, wanting to protect the people of Macedon and make her brother happy, complies.
Year 604 - Maria is freed from Castle Deil by Prince Marth of Altea and his army, thereafter joining him alongside Minerva in the War of Shadows. Following Michalis' defeat, she watches over him in Macedon's aery until he recovers.
Year 607 - Maria is kidnapped by Gharnef while studying magic in Khadein. Later the following year, Prince Marth and his army defeat Medeus and free the captured clerics, Maria among them. She and Minerva stay with Lena at her convent, caring for orphans.
Year 609 - Maria resumes her studies and departs for Fódlan.
INTERESTS. learning new things, exploring, spending time with others LIKES. spending time with loved ones & making friends; making things (like sweet little treats!) (...AKA baking, sewing, embroidering, etc); wyverns, pegasi, and the sky; reading stories and poetry; flowers. DISLIKES. being helpless or a burden on others; eating alone; pitch darkness; so-called 'humor' that relies on tearing people down; arguments, especially those of her siblings. CLOSE ALLIES. Michalis, Minerva, Marth, Tiki ; Soren, Yuri, Chad, Roy (dropped but not forgotten) STATUS. the last princess of Macedon, but one of its first daughters to see a united Archanea
DINING HALL PREFERENCES
LIKES. ( saghert and cream, fish and bean soup, vegetable pasta salad, onion gratin soup, sweet and salty whitefish sauté, sweet bun trio, garreg mach meat pie, pheasant roast with berry sauce, peach sorbet, vegetable stir-fry, derdriu-style fried pheasant ) -- the simple act of sharing a meal with Maria is guaranteed to raise your friendship with her, but these dishes give the biggest boosts
DISLIKES. ( cabbage and herring stew ) -- there's no penalty for making her eat this (and other markedly bitter foods), but the friendship gain is comically low
DINING HALL NOTES
FAVORITE DISH.
"Oh! This one's really yummy, hee hee. Want to try a bite?"
LEAST FAVORITE DISH.
"...Huh? Oh, no, don't worry! This time I'll beat the bitterness for sure, hee hee."
EATING SPICY DISH.
"Ooh-- wah-- hot, hot, hot! Hee hee... I'm-- still not so good with-- ooh, with spicy food. But it's so good...!"
WITH MICHALIS.
"Isn't it yummy, Brother? If you like it, I'll try to learn how to make it. Let's have a picnic later!"
WITH MINERVA.
"What do you think, Sister? Yummy, right? Hee hee! Maybe we should take the recipe back to Miss Lena one day!"
WITH ROY.
"Well, I-- hee hee-- I mean-- heeheehee-- I think it was a perfectly tasty pizza!"
WITH KENT.
"Do you have any room for dessert, Ser? I made some thumbprint cookies yesterday! With elderberry jam, heeheehee."
TEATIME GUIDE
FAVORITE TEAS. sweet-apple tea, albinean berry blend, crescent-moon tea, chamomile
CONVERSATION TOPICS. a dinner invitation. a place you'd like to visit. a word of advice. books you've read recently. cats. children at the market. cooking mishaps. exploring the monastery. favorite sweets. first crushes. gardening mishaps. gifts you'd like to receive. heart-racing memories. likable allies. monastery mysteries. our first meeting. overcoming weaknesses. shareable snacks. someone you look up to. tell me about yourself. thanks for everything. the view from the bridge. things that bother you. working together. how you're doing lately.
TEATIME QUOTES
GREETING.
"I'm here! And I brought some desserts with me, too!"
"Hee hee, thank you for the invitation. I'm so happy to spend time with you like this!"
"Oh! I guess we both got here early, huh? Hee hee! I was just so excited!"
FAVORITE TEA.
"Mmm... This is one of my favorites! I'm so glad you like it too!"
FIVE STAR TEA.
"Oh! This tea... hee hee, thank you. I'll make sure to enjoy it with all my heart!"
BEING OBSERVED.
"Oh! What? What is it?"
"[gasp] Do I have crumbs on my face?"
"Is there something on your mind? You can tell me, if you want."
QUIPS.
"Hee hee!"
"A pretty blue sky..."
"Mm! Tasty!"
"I wonder if (he/she/they)'d like this flavor, too..."
"Really?"
"Wow...!"
"♫Hm hm hm!♫"
"Yeah!"
"Oh! And then? What happened next!"
"It's warm..."
ENDING.
"Hee hee, I had lots of fun today! Let's do this again sometime -- I'll make your favorites! That's a promise!"
FINAL COMMENTS.
(1) "What are your favorite teas? Your favorite snacks? ...Am I going to bring you some? Hee hee! That's a secret!" ANSWER: Chat, Laugh
(2) "When I was reeeaally little, I used to ask my brother and sister to play with me. I'd make them tea, and... heeheehee! Well, I've gotten a lot better at it since then!" ANSWER: Laugh, Sip Tea
(3) "My brother and sister are my favorite people in the whole wide world, but they can be so silly sometimes! But you know what? I'm going to be even more stubborn than both of them, hee hee." ANSWER: Commend, Sip Tea
(4) "I haven't seen a whole lot of the world so far, but I think it must be very pretty." ANSWER: Nod, Disagree, Chat
(5) "There's something really happy about sharing food together, don't you think?" ANSWER: Nod, Sip Tea
(6) "I've always believed that there are lots of different ways to be strong, and to protect someone. Still... Sometimes it would be nice to be strong like my siblings are." ANSWER: Sigh, Nod, Chat
MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.
GIFT GUIDE
LIKED GIFT: Floral Adornment, Tasty Baked Treat, Gemstone Beads, Armored Bear Stuffy, Watering Can, Tea Leaves, Stylish Hair Clip, Legends of Chivalry, Ancient Coin, any flowers DISLIKED GIFT: Training Weight, Hunting Dagger, Ceremonial Sword
DISLIKED GIFT.
"Hmm... Hee hee! Thank you for thinking of me."
LIKED GIFT.
"Hee hee, thank you! I'm really happy!"
FAVORITE GIFT.
"Wow...! Is this for me? Really? Oh, I love it! Thank you so much!"
LOST ITEMS.
TIMEWORN JOURNAL: A well-kept if obviously aged journal, its entries date back many years and are addressed not to itself, but to a person. There are many crude but lovingly rendered drawings within. It probably belongs to someone who's been looking for someone for a very long time. LOCATION: Courtyard
UNFINISHED HANDKERCHIEF: A lovely square of fabric decorated with what seems to be the beginnings of an embroidery project. Looks like... (apple trees/wisteria/sunflowers)? It probably belongs to someone who likes making gifts for others. LOCATION: Blue Lions Classroom
FOREIGN PENDANT: A subtle-yet-elegant pendant of foreign make. Its quality suggests a high degree of nobility; there is a small emblem of a wyvern on the back of it. It probably belongs to someone sentimental. LOCATION: Cathedral
OWNER.
"Oh! This is mine -- I've been looking for it everywhere! Thank you so much!"
NOT OWNER.
"Hmm... This isn't mine, but maybe... have you asked (name)?" *has an increased chance of suggesting the right person the higher her support rank with the item's owner.
MONASTERY QUOTES.
CHOIR PRACTICE.
"The songs of Fódlan are so different from Archanea. It's really neat!"
"Hm hm hm...♫ Hee hee! Isn't singing fun?"
COOKING.
"It looks so yummy! Do you want to share this together when we're done?"
"Are you nervous? Hee hee, don't worry! I used to help out a lot with cooking at the convent -- I'll help you out!"
"Aah, wait, wait! Not the-- ...hee hee... hahaha! Well, that's okay, too! We'll figure something out."
TUTORING.
INSTRUCT.
BAD.
"...Mmm... How do I..."
CRITIQUE: "I see... I should look at it like that, and... Oh! I think I'm starting to get it!" CONSOLE: "Hee hee... thank you. I'll try even harder next time!"
GREAT.
"I always do my best!"
"I'm getting better, step by step!"
PERFECT.
"I did it! Do you think my siblings would be proud of me?" PRAISE: "...! Hee hee... Thank you. That means so much to me."
TASKS.
STABLE DUTY.
"Horses have such cute, soft noses! Maybe I should ask if I can feed Helena an apple later..."
WEEDING.
"There's a right place for everything -- we just have to find it!"
SKY WATCH.
"Now it's my turn to touch the sky... Hee hee, come on! It's such a pretty day -- let's go!"
CERTIFICATION EXAMS.
FAILED.
"Hmm... alright! I'll study more, and try even harder next time!
PASSED.
"Yay! I did it! Just one more step toward being strong like my siblings!"
LEVEL UP.
0 TO 2 STATS UP.
"I have to try even harder..."
3 TO 4 STATS UP.
"I'll get there eventually!"
5 STATS UP.
"I'm just following the example they set!"
6 STATS UP.
"Hee hee... Maybe one day, I'll catch up to them! Do you think they'll be surprised?"
UPON REACHING LEVEL 99.
"Next time, I'll protect them, too."
UPDATE GOALS.
FAITH.
"Did you know? In Archanea, you have to use staves and tomes to use magic, but in Fódlan you don't need any of that! I don't know if I can bring that kind of magic back home, but if I can help even without a staff, then it's worth a try, isn't it? Trying to keep up with both of them gets a little tough sometimes, though!"
AXE + FLYING.
"My home, Macedon, was known for its wyvern knights -- and my brother and sister were the strongest of all of them! I chose to be a cleric to protect them like they protect me, but... hee hee! Thanks to them, I love the sky."
REASON.
"Axes are so different from magic. Their strengths and weaknesses, their range, the types of foes they're better against... I won't ever be as good with axes as my big brother and sister, but that's okay, isn't it? I'm not them -- I'm their little sister! And I'll always be there to support them!"
BUDDING TALENT.
"Woah... This is new... and exciting! Heeheehee."
NEW SKILL.
"I learned a new trick! Do you want to see?"
RECLASSING.
(1) "There's still so much I can learn!"
(2) "I'll do my best!"
(3) "I've never considered this before... but I guess I'll start now!"
BATTLE QUOTES.
MOCK BATTLE RETREAT.
"Ow! I should take care of myself... I can still learn from watching everyone else."
(Edelgard specific) "Ouch...! I already knew you were strong, but you really showed me again! Hee hee... take care of yourself, okay?"
FIRST KILL.
"...O goddess of this land, please welcome them..."
(After Sabbam Vitatham, super real & canon event) "... ... ... O Naga... I..."
WHEN SELECTED.
FULL / HIGH HP.
"I'm here with you!"
MEDIUM HP.
"I'm okay!"
LOW HP.
"I've got to be careful..."
ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES.
"I still have lots of catching up to do!"
CRITICAL ATTACK.
"One, two, three!"
"It's my turn to protect them!"
"I won't lose!"
"Here I come!"
GAMBIT.
"Everyone -- together!"
GAMBIT BOOST.
"Let's put an end to this!"
DEFEATED ENEMY.
"O goddess..."
"I'm a princess of Macedon, too!"
"...I hope that you're at peace."
"Just one more step..."
ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY.
"I'm so happy you're alright!"
"Wow...! You were amazing!"
(Michalis/Minerva exclusive) "Hee hee... You're just as cool as I remember, (Brother/Sister)!"
ALLY HEALS/RALLIES.
"Thank you! I'm feeling better already!"
"I won't let you down!"
"Since you believe in me, I'll work even harder!"
DEFEAT QUOTE.
CASUAL.
"Ow! No, I can't...! I won't make them cry again...!"
CLASSIC.
"Michalis... Minerva... I... Just one more time... Togeth...er..."
THE ADVICE BOX.
I'm really cheerful when I'm with people, but sometimes I worry that makes other people not hear me out at all. Sometimes my siblings just brush me off!
>Start acting differently and maybe they'll change their mind. >Show them through your actions. They'll realize eventually. (correct?) >Stop being small
SOURCE: shadoll -- super fun meme! thank you!! <3
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naivesilver · 2 years
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Hurt/Comfort Prompts. 12. Will & Nomi.
Thank you baby but why do you do this kind of things to yourself and especially to ME sadshajkfhjkahjf
Hurt/Comfort Prompts
12. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Will feels as though he were the eldest child of the cluster, sometimes.
It's bullshit for more than one reason - they were all born in the same exact moment, for starters, and if there's someone used to taking charge of their younger siblings it's definitely Sun, not him. She seems to be the only one capable of sorting out Lito's extravagant meltdowns, amongst other things, less by virtue of her fighting abilities and more because of the glare she's perfected over the years.
And still, Will can't help but feel that the burden falls on his shoulders, every now and then. He should be the one with the connections, the one who protects them all - he kept Whispers at bay for longer than he thought possible, in a way that reminded him heavily of the readings of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde he did in high school, and he did it for them. They're his family. They're him, and he very nearly failed them, once upon a time.
It's hard to keep that brand of thought out of his mind, once it gets a good grip on him. He does his best not to let it worry the others, but that's hard to do, too, since they are broadly speaking one mind in eight bodies.
"Stop thinking," Nomi tells him, conversationally, appearing at his elbow as he's fixing Riley's dad's kitchen table one day. "I'm trying to make creme brulèe like Amanita had in Paris and I can't remember the recipe if you keep brooding like this."
Will gives her a grin that is mostly genuine, despite everything. "Sorry. How much did you hear?"
"More than enough. Does Riley know what's going on?"
"I think she suspects something. Kinda hard not to, in her position- but it's fine, really. I'm fine."
There's the telepathic equivalent of a thoughtful hum at the other end of the connection. Then, after a pause, Nomi speaks again, her voice much softer this time, slower: "You don't have to be strong all the time, you know. I know it's your whole shtick, but...we were in that together, as a cluster. We won, together. It's alright if sometimes you need to, well, let someone else carry the burden. We're there for that too."
"Yeah." He shakes his head, trying to allow her words to sink in. "I haven't forgotten, it's just...you know."
"I know. Which is why I came all the way to Iceland to remind you." Nomi sighs, and her brow furrows slightly. "Besides, as an eldest daughter? Sorry, but you really aren't cut out for the job."
Will's smile is bigger, this time around, and much more amused. "Thanks a lot. I'll have to put it on my resume."
He feels a change at the edge of his sense, a vague smell that is too distant to be in his actual vicinity, and he cocks up an eyebrow, turning to face his friend with mock-ingenuity. "Are you sure setting the kitchen on fire is part of the recipe?"
Nomi departs with a muffled curse, and Will laughs so loud it prompts Riley to come back into the room with him, right where she belongs.
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youarejesting · 3 years
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Sly like a... ? Part 5
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[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.3k
Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.
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Between the passive-aggressive comments from Namjoon and Yoongi, the absolutely adorable moments from Jungkook, and  Hoseok, and Seokjin's loud nature you didn't have a moment to yourself. Pair that with trying to make Taehyung feel comfortable and Jimin wanting your attention. You were running ragged.
Well, when you looked around they all were wanting your attention, each hybrid was a little possessive over you as their owner. Even Yoongi who constantly claimed he didn't want to be a part of any government program or any home in general, would occasionally growl or hiss in the corner whenever Jimin or Taehyung got too close.
You thought perhaps he was the most protective of you as he was severely touch starved and secretly loved the idea of being loved and wanted by someone. He spent his days and nights cold and alone on the streets and having somewhere warm and dry with someone who cared for his wellbeing was filling a missing piece in his life. It must scare him seeing the opportunity there but not allowing himself to fully let you into his heart as he held it so close as it was left frail and weak from his previous hurt.
When the groceries arrived the poor delivery man had to deal with seven very protective Hybrids who hovered making sure that you were constantly safe at that moment. Having a stranger in the house was not exactly fun for them.
"Yoongi?" You looked over the table from the game of cards Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin had roped you into with their big innocent eyes and swishing tails. You saw Yoongi's ear twitch and his body tensing slightly as he opened his eyes lazily to meet you. You grinned at him watching his tail swish once before it stilled.
"What do you need?" He sat up stretching and walking over to the table and looking over your shoulder at your cards and humming. 
"I wondered if you wanted to pick something for dinner, there is a folder in the draw I filled with recipes I know how to cook, but if you want something else I can try to make it for you and also there is another folder of fast food menu's if you want something else?" You said turning your head he was very close his head almost on your shoulder but he restrained himself from the final move to touch you intentionally.
Perhaps he was scared of getting too close and eventually being abandoned once more. Yoongi was looking in the draws and frowning, "I can't find any folders"
Placing your cards down with a warning to the boys, you strode into the kitchen you saw him crouched by the draw searching and you smiled searching for the folder and found it. 
"These two purple folders," You handed them over making sure your hands brush trying to encourage subtle touches and his tail swished a few times. Knowing the kitchen counter was obstructing the view of you both from the others you took the chance to show him a bit of much-deserved affection, unable to stop yourself you placed your hand on his soft hair and tousled it with a bright smile. 
His cheeks went pink as he ducked his head, his tail was swishing back and forth rapidly and he took a deep breath and stood up placing the folders on the counter. He cleared his throat fixing his expression, not wanting to appear too pleased by the reaction.
Thinking it was best not to overwhelm him you returned back to your card game while he chose something for dinner. Upon returning you saw your cards askew from how you left them and some cheeky grins on the other boys’ faces.
"You sneaky rotten boys, what did I say about cheating!" you laughed shocked, and messed up their hair, the two feline hybrids whining and swatting your hands away to fix their hair back into place. Taehyung was overjoyed his tail rapidly swatting back and forth and leaning in wanting more.
You were scratching his scalp gently and he laid his head down on the table happily his eyes closed in content. Yoongi approached with the book hesitating behind you, not wanting to interrupt and you assumed feeling nervous to ask for something as simple as dinner. He was the type who didn't want to be a burden or feel reliant on you, but you turned.
"Did you find something for our dinner Yoongi?" You encouraged and his cheeks flushed, he held out the folder opened on the page and he shuffled not saying a word not wanting to bring himself to say the words.
"I wasn’t really sure, I picked one at random," suspecting he really wanted the dish but didn't want to seem too keen if you said no. You nodded wanting to give him anything he asked for, you were very good at reading Hybrids having grown up with Jimin and others just like him.
You placed your hand on his pulling the book down and pointing at the dish, "What meat would you like in it, and should we do noodles or rice?" 
"I like it with Noodles but if we make it with rice, I can make a lot of fun little side dishes which I like too, what do you like?"
"I am not sure?” he mumbled nervously at the thought of being given an ultimatum
“Good idea, I will start now and we can have all of the above, there are so many of us, it would be nice to have lots of everything,” You looked up at him an idea struck, you were supposed to teach these boys to be independent, “do you maybe want to help me make it?”
“Uh I have never made anything, but I can try, or if it’s too much we don’t need to eat?” Taehyung whined at his words and you laughed. 
“You don’t have to Yoongi, I thought you might like to learn for fun, so if every I am not home or if I might get sick or something, you will be able to eat good food” Clarifying that you were in no way trying to condition him into becoming your personal chef.
“I can help,” he nodded, you were still unsure if he was agreeing so as to not get in trouble but you would take it hoping to make the experience fun. “Okay, let’s get all the ingredients out it says, and put it on the counter right here”
“Do you need help with anything?” You smiled, placing your hand on his wave to gently nudge him aside to grab the bottle of sesame oil.
“I can’t find the garlic?” Yoongi was ashamed he had failed already.
“Oh, I bought a jar of minced Garlic to save time, so that’s all the ingredients found” Leading him from the walk-in pantry you lead him to the middle of the kitchen and took an apron, it was black and you slipped it over his head and walked around tying it up. “We can’t have your clothes getting dir-”
It was then you noticed how old and tattered his clothes were, the collar was stretched and the back of his jeans was ripped and stained from where he stood on the legs. Taking a small breath.
“Could everyone make a list of things they want or need in their rooms, in the bathroom or clothing and shoe wise? We can all go shopping tomorrow” Walking Yoongi to the sink you washed your hands together and smiled over at him playfully flicking water at him, he gave a tiny smile and wiped his face on his sleeve.
The two of you got cooking, as you taught him Seokjin sat at the breakfast bar on one of the tall stools and watched intently. It was honestly cute to see them all interested in everyday things, things that Hybrids weren’t exactly expected or taught how to do. 
Something as simple as feeding themselves. It was sad how many Hybrids were punished with no food or left to starve so it was nice to teach them how to cook for themselves and put some of that power into their hands.
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Tags:  @simplymemyself @lolsiiike @min2jeon @notruercolors @luvaffaire @grazysf​  @ella-mella  @lustremyg​ (please make sure you have tagging setting on so you get notified when the story updates)
How can I save this to receive and read updates?
‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update
Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]
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Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)
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sevlgi · 3 years
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the florist pt. 2
requested: yes
group: dreamcatcher
pairing: jiu x fem!reader
genre: angst, questionable fluff
contents: hanahaki!au, florist!jiu.  read part 1 here.
warnings: death
synopsis:  Minji’s drawing away. You know that; you can see it, and you can feel it deep in your bones. But when you finally realize the pain afflicting her, will it be too late for you to save her?
a/n: I’M SORRY THIS IS BASICALLY FULL ANGST ASLKDFFDSKJN... i’ll do a part 3 if y’all want it 😬
word count: 3.6k
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Sometimes, the arrival of a new person changes the way you see things.
That fact had been true for Minji for years; meeting people always taught her something new, whether it was about the world or about herself. And yet, no one had ever been able to change her thoughts about her 6 closest friends, until she found a beautiful girl in her flower shop, begging for help with the blooms in her lungs.
She didn’t mean to resent Siyeon. She shouldn’t have-- you were a stranger, just another person that used your personal connection to her friends to guilt her into helping you. But when Minji saw how dismissive you were to even the possibility of asking Siyeon to save your life, she realized something about her friend, and she realized something about you.
On one hand, Siyeon knew what she could or couldn’t do to help others. Minji had seen her go out of her way to pick up a fallen grocery basket for someone or help an old lady across the street, but she would never try to lift a car to save someone underneath. She knew her limits, and Minji had to accept that it wasn’t selfish of her to protect herself.
But on the other hand, you were selfless. Too much so, really. You hated the thought of inconveniencing the girl you loved, even if it meant that you would die. It took too long for you to convince yourself to even ask Gahyeon for help, just because you knew how touchy of a subject it was for her.
Maybe Minji loved that about you, at the same time that she hated it. And maybe it was something that she hated about herself as she stared at the speckled purple blossoms swimming about in the toilet bowl.
“Shit,” she whispered, wiping droplets of blood off her lips. “It’s getting worse.”
“Obviously.”
Gahyeon looked more grim than sympathetic as she offered a box of tissues to the older girl. She experienced the disease herself for long enough that she knew how painful it was, and she was smart enough to know that Minji didn’t have much time. “How long has it been?”
“8 months.” Minji gingerly plucked petals out from under her tongue, flicking them away. “I met Y/N 8 months ago.”
She could’ve smiled just by saying your name, but she kept her face solemn as Gahyeon did the math in her head. “8 months. It takes 3 months to fall in love, but knowing you, it was probably shorter.”
Minji rolled her eyes, taking a sip of water. “Watch it.”
“I’m just saying,” Gahyeon protested. “But at most, you’ve had Hanahaki for 7 or 8 months. So why are you basically on your deathbed? Y/N told me she loved Siyeon unnie nearly 2 years before she even bothered to ask me for help.”
“Maybe my heart is just weak,” the florist sighed, leaning her head against the wall. “It’s my fault, I fell for a client. A client, Gahyeon, how stupid am I?”
The younger girl scooted closer, wrapping her arms softly around Minji. “You aren’t. Okay? Y/N is amazing, and if I wasn’t so hung up on... if I had the time for it, I could see myself loving her too. You should--”
“Don’t,” Minji warned, eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me to tell her. I can’t put that on her, and I can’t let her know that I’m in... that I’m in pain because of her.”
“You’re one and the same, you know that?” Gahyeon shook her head. “The exact same.”
But no matter how much she griped, Minji knew that her friend wouldn’t reveal the secret, not until she was lying on her deathbed. She was trustworthy, and she would leave Minji to her own solutions if she asked for it.
Finding a real solution was what would become the problem.
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“Hey, Minji!”
Even though you felt awkward with your shoulder pressed up to your face and bags in your hand, you smiled as you squeezed the phone closer to your face. The florist hadn’t picked up on your call, but you didn’t fault her for being busy. “Uh, I’m coming to you to make Gahyeon’s cake like we promised.”
You cursed as you dropped one of the grocery bags, taking your phone in your hand to finish the message so you could check out. “I’m almost there, so wait up for me! I got some special supplies for you too.”
Rounding the corner onto the Love Blossom, you fished your keys out from your pocket. There was a pink jewel-studded one on the chain, new as of just 8 months ago, but it felt like it had always belonged there as you twisted the lock and pushed the glass door open.
To your surprise, Gahyeon was waiting inside, almost looking like she was shielding the door to Minji’s apartment. “Hey, Gahyeonie,” you greeted, attempting to wave. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Y/N. What’re those for?” she asked, nodding her head at the bags. “Baking again?”
“Yeah, you know me.” You craned your neck, trying to see if Minji was fixing a bouquet somewhere, but you didn’t find the brunette anywhere. Gahyeon, standing smack in the middle of the shop and blocking the door, didn’t help. “Is Minji here?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s just... finishing something.” The younger girl’s smile was disarming, obviously hiding something and yet innocent enough that you could’ve just been paranoid. “You don’t mind waiting, do you?”
Your eyes narrowed, but you shook your head. “So, uh, how’s Siyeon?”
Gahyeon softened at that, sighing, “Still not ready to see you. I’m sorry, she... she feels guilty now, that Minji and I had to help you not die.”
“It’s okay.” To be honest, it was true; despite all the feelings you’d invested into her, Siyeon couldn’t break you just yet, not even after you barely recovered from the Hanahaki disease. “I’ll give her time.”
“I’m grateful for that,” the other girl smiled, squeezing your arm. “On her behalf.”
Before either of you could say something more, the hidden door creaked open to reveal a Minji that was decidedly more gaunt than when you had last seen her. Her cheeks were hollow, lips pale and dark circles unable to be hidden by the layers of makeup she wore. “Oh. Hey, Y/N, what’re you doing here?”
You raised the bags in your hand in answer. “Baking? We agreed a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh!” Minji attempted an apologetic smile, though you still got the feeling that she didn’t really remember. “Right. Gahyeon, I’m fine, you can go home.”
“Are you sure?” the younger girl eyed the florist critically. “Because--”
“Gahyeon. I’m good.” Minji’s tone left no room for argument, and Gahyeon merely waved at you before making her way out. Finally only the two of you left in the shop, the brunette opened her door for you. “Sorry about that. Come in?”
Despite not really wanting to overstep, you blurted out, “So. What was that about? If you’re sick, I can easily go home and bake there...”
“No, I’m good!” Minji tried her best to grin, but something was just lacking. You also noted that she did her best not to touch you, skirting around the kitchen table to be on the other side. “Did you get chocolate like I asked?”
“I did,” you nodded, accepting the fact that she wouldn’t talk about it until she was ready. After all those months, you learned that when Minji was stubborn, there really was nothing that could change her mind. “Chocolate because Gahyeon likes it, but I also got vanilla to make cupcakes for anyone who doesn’t like it?”
She clapped and you played along by bowing, though she stopped so she could start to taking ingredients out of the bag for you. “Oh-- what’s this?” she frowned at the can of coconut cream she held in her hand.
“That--” you snatched it out of her hand-- “is for you. I learned how to make coconut mousse recently, and I thought that while I’m here, I might as well treat you.”
Minji opened her mouth to speak with a smile, but she was interrupted with a sudden fit of coughing. You reached to grab water for her, concern parting your lips, but she waved you away. “I- I’m fine. A bit of a cold, that’s all, I’ll be right back.”
With that, she ascended to her loft again, leaving you with coconut cream in your hands and confusion written all over your face. In all the 8 months that you had known her, Minji hadn’t gotten sick once; she brought you chicken soup when you got the flu and miraculously avoided it, claiming herself to have “immunity superpowers” with that amazingly infectious smile. So it was weird for her to be so affected by a simple cough.
But as you turned back to your cake recipe, you tried to write it off. After all, she’d saved you already... she didn’t owe you any explanations.
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Yubin was sweet. A lot quieter than Minji, but she was that calm kind of funny that didn’t really require being boisterous to invoke laughter from you, and you definitely didn’t mind it. “Thank you for coming to shop with me,” you mentioned as you bent down to stare at the label on a folded jacket. “Minji said she’d come, but she’s really busy lately.”
“Yeah, she can be like that sometimes,” Yubin shrugged, pointing a decorative cup out to you. “She insists that she doesn’t like to burden us or whatever.”
“That’s bullshit, but it sounds like her,” you sighed. You folded the jacket over your arm and picked up the cup on your way to the register, Yubin following with her gift for Gahyeon already hanging on her arm. “But I can’t help but think that she’s hiding something from me... just me.”
The younger girl raised an eyebrow. “Really? I mean, Minji’s been quiet recently, but I don’t think she’s treating you any different. If anything, she’s nicer to you than she is to the rest of us.”
You chuckled at that and passed your credit card over the counter. “Right. She is being really nice to me, almost weirdly nice. You know, I brought my baking supplies over to her the other day, and she didn’t even try to throw flour in my face. It’s weird.”
“You’re right that that doesn’t sound like Minji,” Yubin frowned, opening the shop’s door for you as you walked out. “I don’t know, she’s like a different person after meeting you. Doesn’t talk to Siyeon much--”
At the guilty expression on your face, she stopped talking. “Y/N, it isn’t your fault. Minji... she’s just too kind. She never understood how our friend, who saw the effects of Hanahaki herself, could just let you die.”
“Isn’t it my fault though?” You tilted your head to the sky, observing the fluffy white clouds that floated over the skyscrapers of Seoul. “I gave her that responsibility of healing me, she wouldn’t have given a shit if she didn’t have to heal me.”
“Well, if you think that, then you still don’t know Minji well enough.” The other girl laughed softly, shaking her head. “See, it’s less about letting you die and more about letting someone else die. We all know that Siyeon-unnie couldn’t love you on command, but Minji thinks she was callous with how she rejected you.”
“Yubin...”
She held up a hand so that you’d let her continue to talk. “See, she’s selfless. She could’ve turned you away, no matter how much Gahyeon tried to convince her, but she didn’t. Minji can’t handle the thought of not doing something when she could, but she would also never impose on others.”
“Do you think that’s what’s happening?” you asked suddenly. “Is she sick or something, and won’t tell us?”
Yubin hesitated to answer, her expression conflicted. “I want to say no. But it’s... more likely than not.”
You almost reached for your phone, but you remembered how curt Minji’s text messages had been in the past month, and how often she had blown you off. “Huh. Well, I guess we’ll just have to ask her tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Coffee?” your new friend offered, stopping in front of a small coffee store. You followed her in, more and more worried about the florist as you thought about her. Your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest again, as quick as it had been when you had Hanahaki, just without the unrequited love clogging your lungs like so many months ago.
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You leaped onto Bora’s back as soon as you saw her, laughing as she shrieked. Gahyeon, who had been talking to Bora, grinned at the sight of you in your sparkly outfit. “Gahyeonie, happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Y/N.” She took the gift from your hands to set it down on a table, Bora hitching you up higher on her back. “Now that you’re here, will you convince Handong-unnie to let me see the cake?”
“Not a chance,” you sing-songed, sticking your tongue out at the pouting birthday girl. “I spent hours on that cake, I’m not letting you see it before the grand reveal with Minji. Where is she, by the way?”
“Minji?” Bora frowned, finally giving up and letting you down onto the floor. The petite woman scanned the apartment with her lips pursed, swishing her specialty punch in the cup she held. “Mm. I don’t think I’ve seen her today.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at that, and you stepped further into the living room to try and catch the florist among the throng of celebrators. “Really? That’s unlike her, I would’ve thought she’d be here first.”
“I think Siyeon stepped up for organization this time,” Gahyeon offered. “I can... ask her for you?”
You were tempted to agree; after all, it had been nearly a year and a half since you had confessed and gotten painfully pushed away. But then, you had to know where Minji was for yourself-- any information, even if it was given to you by Gahyeon, wasn’t trustworthy unless you heard it for yourself. “It’s fine,” you sighed. “I’ll go.”
“Y/N, are you sure?” Bora asked quietly, catching you in your stride with her hands on your arm. “She’s not exactly friendly towards you.”
“I’m good,” you smiled in an attempt to reassure her. “Really.”
Once you left the two behind, it wasn’t tough to find Siyeon. She stood in the kitchen with Handong, laughing at some joke or the other that you couldn’t hear over the music. To your alarm, your heart hurt a little bit at how beautiful she looked, blonde hair lengthened by extensions and lips colored; but it wasn’t the disease, just a normal twinge of remaining heartbreak as you approached her. “Hey.”
She didn’t turn until the hostess pushed her to. “Y/N. Hello.”
You pursed your lips at her attitude. “Look, I don’t want to talk to you either. All I need to know is where Minji is.”
“Minji...” Siyeon frowned at that, turning to look at Handong, who shrugged. “She still hasn’t shown up? The party started hours ago...”
Handong offered, “She texted me a little while ago, she said she had a cough? It’s not like Minji to be sick, but I’m sure a cough is no problem.”
“A cough?”
The three of you turned to find Gahyeon behind you, her expression a mixture of grim and absolutely horrified. “Gahyeonie..?” Siyeon asked, panic seeping into her voice just like it did yours.
“Y/N, you need to come with me” was the youngest’s only answer as she grabbed onto your wrist. “We don’t have enough time, Bora can drive you to the LB. And--”
“Hey, Gahyeon, what the hell is going on?” you asked, quieting yourself when she hushed you. “Is Minji sick? And if she is, why wouldn’t you tell us? We can buy her medicine--”
“She has Hanahaki.” Your eyes widened immediately and you stopped in your tracks, ignoring Gahyeon tugging at you. She gave up, and tried to soften her words. “Y/N... Minji loves you. And you don’t love her back.”
You stammered, attempting to find the right words to respond. But there didn’t seem to be any-- none of the sentences on the tip of your tongue could even come close to describing what you wanted to say, so you could only settle or saying, “What?”
Gahyeon pinched her lips together, typing something furiously on her phone. “Yeah. It’s progressing too fast, I think, she was on the brink of death when you saw her last. Coughing out full blossoms already, and I’ve already found her choking on her own blood twice.”
“But...” Your mind raced, trying your best to find an explanation. “I’ve only known her for 10 months.”
“That’s how much she loves you, I guess,” Gahyeon shrugged, turning as Bora bounded down the stairs. “Please save her. It might be too late, but- but I don’t want Minji to die without seeing you one last time.”
Bora grabbed you then, not giving you a minute to even ask if it was okay to leave. It was a short bound to her car in the driveway, and the both of you seemed just as desperate to reach the florist when Bora pressed down on the pedals with close to her full force.
You came dangerously close to crashing into at least 10 cars, and you were sure that you had run a red light, but there was nothing else on your mind as you slammed the car door closed and kicked the door to the flower shop right open. “Minji!” you shouted, craning your neck to try and see up to the loft. “Minji, where are you?!”
At the sound of some weak coughing, you were leaping up the stairs, gripping onto the banisters to move even faster. And there she was, looking all too frail and weak in her bed.
There was a spray of blood on the pale pink comforter, wrapped around her body with minimal effort, and Minji’s eyes were barely fluttering open. “Y/N,” she croaked, hand creeping up to touch your face as you fell to your knees right next to her. Her voice was hoarse, almost gone from the months of coughing up mallow blossoms and blood. “You came.”
“I... of course I came.” Your voice was shaky, and there were hot tears already spilling down your face. “Minji, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Not- not your responsibility,” she coughed out. “I couldn’t let you feel guilty for what’s happening to me. It’s not your fault, Y/N, that you don’t love me.”
You sobbed out at that, wiping your eyes roughly with the palms of your hands. “Minji, please...”
The girl lying before you could barely be called a shell of Minji, and no matter what you said, it could only be your fault that her eyes were as sunken as a skull’s. It could only be your face that her wrist was as delicate as that of a bird, that her hand wasn’t even able to support the weight of your head as you slumped down to sob next to her.
There was nothing bright shining in those brown eyes anymore, none of the light that exploded into a thousand golden sparkles whenever you baked her favorite pastries or arranged a bouquet just right. There was no smile on her parched lips, no laughter shaking her entire body or a stupid joke that no one really understood.
All the memories of the Minji that you remembered flooded into your mind, like videos flickering over the nearly-dead girl that you could see in front of you. Minji when she spent hundreds of dollars for your birthday bouquet, Minji when she took you as a plus-one to her favorite concert. Minji when she smiled at coconut tarts, Minji when she presented you with your very own apron for the shop.
Was there something I could’ve said to make your heart beat better?
Said. As what could’ve been Minji’s last breaths began to escape her lungs, your head shot up and your heads reached out to cradle her to your chest, your lips moving faster than you could’ve ever imagined to say those three words out loud. “I love you. Kim Minji, I love you I love you I love you so much, please don’t leave me--”
You couldn’t feel her breathing against you with the force of the sobs racking your entire body, rocking back and forth on the edge of her bed with your hands wrapped around what was left of her familiar frame. “Please,” you cried, her hair damp against your cheek with your own tears. “Please...”
And with the last plea that escaped your lips, she drew in a rattling breath, only to cough it back out with a good 2 blossoms or so. You gasped, holding her away from you and patting her back to help as Minji vomited purple speckled blossoms onto her bed. 
“You said it,” she rasped, collapsing. All you could do was continue to cry, the salt of your tears finally tasting sweet on your lips instead of bitter like they did when you thought that the girl you loved was dead. 
“Thank you.”
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Text
Just as the Stars Light Up the Night Sky|| A StingYu (Sting x Yukino) story Chapter 1
Sting awoke to the sun shining into the room and filling it with a warm glow. He turned over to the celestial mage next to him and ran his fingers through her soft hair. Her eyes fluttered open to reveal those large brown orbs that the guild master could never get tired of looking into.
"Morning Yuki" Sting hummed, moving his hand down to her bare back, causing her to shiver.
"Sting-sama we shouldn't be doing this, it isn't right, you're the master and well I'm nothing special." Yukino said, placing her hand on his chest to push him away.
"You know I hate when you say crap like that, you're amazing." Sting said, causing Yukino to blush a deep red. Sting, not being able to help himself pressed his lips against hers, she wanted to stop him but he was just such a damn good kisser. Soon Yukino was able to push the dragon slayer off of her. She sat up, her feet touching the cold floor.
"I'm sorry Sting-sama I can't do this, I'll see you at the guild hall." Yukino said putting on her clothes that had been discarded on the floor last night. She walked out the door, not another word said.
________________________________________________________________________________
It's been a few weeks since Yukino had decided to avoid Sting and she felt awful. She could see how much it hurt him that she wouldn't talk to him, but she knew this was for the best. However she wasn't thinking about that at the moment because she was too busy being sick. Minerva had come over that morning only to find the other girl vomiting, so now she was making some tea to help her friend.
"Sorry you had to see that M'lady" Yukino said, coming out of the bathroom and sitting on the couch.
"It's fine, I've seen worse." Minerva replied, sitting down next to the celestial mage. The two sat there in silence, both of them not sure what to say.
"So, uh, how long have you been feeling sick like this?" Minerva asked, placing a hand on the other girl's shoulder.
"I don't know, I guess about a week or so, but it's only in the morning I'm fine the rest of the day." Yukino explained and as she went further into detail about what had been happening Minerva started to understand why.
"Yukino, it sounds to me like you're pregnant. I could be wrong but it wouldn't hurt to make sure. Now who is the sick fuck I need to kill for doing this to you!?" The dark haired girl said ready to take down a hundred men if it meant protecting one of her guild mates.
Yukino panicked, what was she supposed to say, Minerva could be right, but if that's so then not only does it affect herself but also Sting. 
"Um, well maybe it's uh, Sting," Yukino told her friend, fidgeting with her shirt.
"Oh, I didn't... you two have, uh, done the deed?" Minerva asked, suddenly feeling super awkward. Of all of the things to happen she never would have guessed that two of her guild mates were off having sex. Yukino just pulled her legs up to her chest and tried to stop the tears from coming. 
"Okay then, let's find out if you really are pregnant, if you aren't then you can go back to living your life as it is now, but if you are you have to tell Sting. I know you and you try to run away from your problems thinking you are a burden to others, but Sabertooth is your family and we want to help you through the hard times, understand?" Minerva said, pulling Yukino into a hug and rubbing soothing circles on her back.
________________________________________________________________________________
After Minerva's visit Yukino went to the doctor to check if she was really pregnant and Rouge had decided to go with her. He had talked to her earlier and wanted to make sure she was okay.
~FlashBack~
Yukino had walked into the guild hall hoping no one would notice her, but of course she just didn't have luck on her side.
"Oh, hey Yukino, about time you showed up. I don't think I could have handled M'lady and Sting on my own much longer." Rouge gestured for the short haired girl to come sit next to him. Yukino sat down across from the dragon slayer and by the look on her face he immediately knew something was bothering her.
"Rouge, can I talk to you about something?" Yukino asked, petting the little exceed sitting by her on the table.
"Of course, what's up?"
Yukino sighed looking down this was hard for her, but she trusted Rouge he had always been looking out for her and was her best friend.
"I think I might be pregnant with Sting's kid. I'm going to go see a doctor later to make sure and I need someone to be there with me." Yukino explained hugging herself as the tears threatened to fall.
"Don't worry, I'll go with you, I need a break from these crazy people anyway." Rouge said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.
~End Flashback~
Yukino and Rogue were sitting in the waiting room not talking when a doctor came out and called for Yukino. The two followed the doctor to a room where they had to do more waiting.
The appointment went well and it was confirmed that Yukino was pregnant. She was now in the bathroom crying and Rouge was trying to get her to come out. He had called Sorano thinking she would have more luck calming down Yukino but she hadn't arrived yet.
"Come on Yukino, you can't stay in there forever." Rouge said, knocking on the door. He was then stopped by a hand on his shoulder, he looked over to see the girl's sister and backed away to let her try and talk to Yukino.
"Yukino, it's me, Sorano can I come in?" The angel magic user asked in a gentle voice. The door opened just a little to reveal the tear stained face of Yukino. Sorano then walked into the bathroom and started to comfort the young mage.
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It has been three days since Yukino went to the doctor and no one had seen her. Rouge, getting worried, decided to go look for her. When he got to her place no one was there, he soon found that all of her photos were also gone. The dark haired dragon slayer went into the bedroom looking for something only to find a note one the bed, he picked it up and read it every word adding more saddens.
Dear Sabertooth,
I have decided to leave for the time being, I don't know when, or even if I will come back, but don't worry. I am staying with my sister, so I'm safe you don't have to come looking for me. Just know that I'm not leaving because of something any of you did, this is for personal reasons. Please don't try and make me come back this hurts enough already, you guys are my family, but this is my decision. Oh, and I have attached my recipe for the float cookies since you all enjoy them so much.                                                                                                                                   ~Yukino 
Rouge looked at the piece of paper that was stapled to the letter to see the recipe. Another folded piece of paper caught his eye, it was a second letter with Sting's name on the front. Rouge assumed that Yukino wrote this for him and only him to read and decide not to open it, though it would make sense to take it with him to pass onto the guild master.
When the shadow dragon slayer got back to the guild hall he told everyone about the letter he had found causing them all to start talking at once trying to get answers.
"Yuki left, without even saying goodbye, does she hate me?" Rouge could hear the other dragon slayer whisper to himself. 
"Here, Yukino left this one for you." Rouge said, handing the letter to Sting. Sting took the paper and left to his office without another word.
Sting's POV:
I sat at the desk in my office staring at the letter debating whether to read it or not. In the note left for everyone Yukino said that she didn't leave because of us, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I did something. I decided that it was best to put the note aside for now and read it later, I had a guild to run anyway.
I went back out to where everyone else was only to be bombarded with questions.
"Sting, are we going to go get Yukino?" M'lady asked after I got everyone to quiet down. She looked so upset, her and Yukino had grown super close and now her friend was gone.
"No" 
"What!? But Sting, we can't just let her leave like this!" Minerva shouted at me.
"You think I don't know that, this hurts me just as much as it hurts you, maybe even more. Yukino is my everything, I love her more than my own life and now she's gone. But she doesn't want us to follow her and we need to respect that." I said as the tears started to fall, I couldn't handle this right now so I went home.
_______________________________________________________________________________
9 Months Later
Yukino's POV:  
I had just given birth to a healthy and beautiful baby girl, and was overjoyed to have this little bundle of joy in my life, but that didn't stop the pain of not having my Sabertooth family with me.
"So, watch'a going to name her?" Macbeth asked not sleeping for once.
I looked down on her small face thinking of the best name for such a tiny, but bright child. 
"Alumina " I said, settling on a name and smiling out of pure joy, I just wish her father could have been here.
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writingstarling · 3 years
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Is it just me, or do y'all also want a story scenario that instead of Princess Zelda, we have Prince Link?
Like, their roles are still the same. Zelda incarnate of goddess Hylia and Link the Hero of Hyrule. But imagine instead of Zelda being exposed to royalty all these times, it's Link that gets that treatment since the day he was born and Zelda being the once nobody but suddenly has magical powers. And in every story we know how Link's task other than defeating Ganon or whatever evil is to rescue or protect Zelda right?
Now, hear me out. Imagine having this prince who's used to being waited on, whether he wishes so or not, suddenly being tasked to find this girl named "Zelda" from all those legends he's heard of and then rise up to being this big hero while as well protecting and working together with a girl he's never met that holds no social status in her name other than her legend.
Imagine the shock of it all when the royal family decided to name this son of theirs "Link" in honour of the Hero or smth and have their son become it without prior knowledge whatsoever. Since it has always been Zelda that's in royalty after all. Imagine looking at this prince that has no idea on what's happening suddenly having to face off an incarnate of a god of evil and protect someone when he himself is used to being protected all his life.
I honestly really want to see him struggle and rise to be the Hero his name is so famous for. I want to see him learn how to wield a sword like how SS Link first did. Someone who didn't need this knowledge and skill suddenly have to train himself to be the best at it??? Link learning basic life skills from Zelda, the angst of him doubting in himself like BOTW Zelda did, the feeling of discovery and just the joy of accomplishment he's going to feel everytime he manages to defeat a Bokoblin on his own or just managing to light a campfire without any advance tools or help.
I just want for once Link to be the clueless prince in all this without having a role swap between them. I want to see him being this Prince that has been protected all his life learn how to actually be independent and stand on his own. Even better, learn to protect others not just using his name, but physically sacrificing himself for his people.
Why am I specifically referring to only Link in all this? Because Zelda has actually been in a position where her name holds no privilege. SS Zelda wasn't someone worthy of much noting in her society before everyone discovered she was the incarnate of a goddess. (She was also a pirate, but technically being a captain's daughter is still some form of royalty to me)
But Link has always been this nameless child that rised up to be a hero. A nobody that swooped in and saved the day coming from all sorts of places. The only time Link was truly acknowledged from an early start was in BOTW, other than that, no one really blinked at Link with much acknowledgement to his name.
I wanna see Link struggle like BOTW Zelda. I wanna see him learn basic skills and feel this overwhelming accomplishment from managing to cook up this recipe that Zelda taught him. I wanna see him being scared of everything going on around him, but having the courage to face everything still. I wanna see Link, after having his heritage revealed to him by having that symbol on his hand like TP did or smth, spend casual time with Zelda other than just swooping in or knowing her just because he has to save her all of a sudden. I want a relationship between them like what SS and BOTW had.
I wanna see this prince strive to train himself and become worthy of the Master Sword. I wanna see this prince that has always had everything handed to him on a silver platter work his ass off to be worthy of his legacy. I wanna see him grow from a seemingly fragile prince into this strong, dependable young man that is on par to his ancestors before him.
And on the side, I wanna see his parents being supportive of him. Not just because of the calamity closing in and them having to rely on their son to have him save them all, but because they truly love and cherish their son and want him to fulfill his destiny. They might have not named him that on purpose, but they sure are gonna support him to the best of their abilities.
Link needs to learn how to wield a sword? The captain of the guards is gonna take some time off to train the prince.
He can't seem to figure out how to do what the trainer tells him to?? The king tries it out and when he succeeds he's gonna try to teach Link how to do it himself.
Link has been training exceptionally hard even in harsh winter??? The queen's gonna work hard too and knit him some gloves (or at least, try to).
Link is feeling unworthy and depressed because he's been unable to master the sword???? The king and queen take time off from their duties to comfort their son.
Just, let me see soft familial relationships. Don't always just omit their parents or make them a sort of ass (looking at you here, BOTW Rhoam). I want good parents that raised good kids. That are supportive of them and what they love.
For Zelda, I'm pretty content with one who's like SS Zelda. A normal girl merely enjoying life suddenly bombarded with a destiny to help seal away an evil incarnate with a boy who's supposed to be an incarnate of a legendary hero. A boy who wields a sword worse than her. A boy who doesn't know a lick about how to survive on his own. A boy who is still wandering through the dark in all of this, same as her. She herself still doesn't understand the extent or how to use her powers, and no one to teach her. The least they could do for each other was to be of solace for one another when things are getting tough and one needed comforting. To hold each other's hand through it all. To not be alone in the dark.
I want all the potential fluff and angst I can get from this AU. They're both scared for they don't know of their destiny until the time is short and the burden of it all is far much too large for their shoulders. But they can lean on each other. Better yet, they also have people supporting them.
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.
I wish I can write this on my own, but my writing skills have been failing me these past few months so I really wish someone would take this up and write it.
PS: if someone really did write this out, please, please, please, ping me. I desperately wish to read it.
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cas-rivaille · 3 years
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Hello! I've never really done a match up like this before and I'm interested in having an Obey Me match up. (Unless they are closed, then please ignore 🙂) It's long... I'm sorry.
My appearance:
I'm a 5'10" curvy red-head with green eyes and fair skin. I have 5 tattoos. My favorites are my black wings that take up half of my back and my stain glass Beauty and the Beast tattoo on my forearm.
My personality:
I'm an infj virgo. My pronouns are she/her. I'm quiet when I first meet people because I like to observe people to get a feel for their personality before I even think about opening up to anyone. I've been burned in the past so I'm guarded emotionally. I like making people laugh or happy because I know what its like to have be at war with your own mind and I don't want anyone to feel like that. I tend to bottle up my emotions because I don't like to "burden" others with my issues. I'm not used to depending on anyone and it take a lot for me to admit I need help. As soon as I see someone as family, I get protective. When it comes to the people I care about, I'm ok if you insult me but the second you go after the people I care about I will not pull punches.
What I look for in someone:
Reassurance and humor. I have anxiety and depression so I need someone who will give me reassurance. Someone who I can be in the same room with and we can both be content doing different things. Someone who knows I can fight my own battles but will be there for me.
Hobbies:
I love to read. I love expanding my knowledge about anything and everything. If I get stressed, I will read Harry Potter, just because it allows me to escape for awhile. I dabble in creative writing every so often when the mood strikes me.
Baking is another passion of mine. I love trying out recipes, especially if I know someone likes a certain flavor profile. I hardly ever eat what I make, I just make things for people to try. I get nervous when waiting for people to try the stuff I made. If I get stressed out, I will go on baking sprees and make 8-9 different creations in a day.
I drabble in crochet. I enjoy making things for people I care about like blankets. I always get their favorite colors or something they are passionate about and try to find a design to make for them.
I adore animals. Cats, dogs, fish, you name it and I most likely will find it adorable.
I hope you have a great day/night and since you remind everyone to make sure they drink water, I'm going to remind you to drink water!
AWWWW THATS SO SWEET YOU KKOW I DO THAT THAT MADE MY DAY AHDHSHS AND YES DONT WORRY I DRINK WATER I HAVE TO AFTER PASSING OUT TWICE LOL !!
okay and now for the matchup !!
i match you with... SOLOMON !!
- you need humor ? problem solved. this man is hundreds of years old and knows every joke from every time period
- as a wizard, he def has a familiar. i hc that it's a cat (kinda basic i know but). he will let you play with it whenever you want. in fact the cat might like you more than him
- if you crochet him anything he's keeping it forever and enchanting it so it can never be ruined
- he would love to watch you bake and ask you to teach him (we all know this man needs baking help and cooking help)
- exactly like you said, the two of you can be in the same room and enjoy different things
- you like expanding knowledge ? boy oh boy you're in luck. he has books dating back at least a thousand years ago and will gladly let you read them all
- he'll teach you how to make cool potions and cast spells
- he will def be there for you and reassure you whenever you need it
- he knows you don't want to "be a burden" but he has his ways of making you feel comfy enough to talk. solomon may be like a child sometimes but truth is he has hundreds of years of emotional handling and can take anything you throw at him
- just as protective of you as you are him
- beauty and the beast is your guys movie you watch it on some date nights
- he also loves your wings tattoo
- he knows lots of braiding hairstyles so if you ever want your hair braided let him know
- your guys personality types are statistically proven to be good together
- entp + infj duo
- overall very loving couple
----
I HOPE YOU LIEKD IT SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG ANDHSJS AND IM SURE YOU ALREDY KNOW WHAT IM GONNA SAY SO HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT AND REMEMBER TO DRINK WATER !!
- cas :)
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lizacstuff · 3 years
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Bölüm 45 asks
Plus a few asks from 44, and one about the fragman for 46
Read more under the cut
Anonymous asked: I cannot believe that Ayse revived the "Kemal is Serkan's real father" theory but I think I'm down for it? At least now Kiraz has one decent grandparent and he seems like genuinely nice man. I've been wishing for him to have some scenes with Serkan because the way they set up this S2 plot, they could relate to one another and I was sad to see that he spent 5 years hiding instead
I'm down for this plot! See, now that I know they're doing the long-lost-father plot, it makes all the sense in the world why Serkan doesn't like Kemal and they didn't forge a relationship in the last five years. If they had, then finding out he's his dad would have been a lot less jarring and dramatic. Finding out now and then forging the relationship I think will be a bit more meaty story so it works for me.
To me this story works on a lot of levels, and makes sense with who Serkan is and his very strained relationship with Alptekin. It's like Alptekin sensed it, and resented Serkan his whole life. For those worried that Serkan will no longer have the last name Bolat, I'm not sure where that's coming from. Maybe I'm just not familiar with other cultures, but that is his name, Alptekin raised him, adults don't just up and change their name because of genetics. If you're adopted and you meet your bio dad as an adult, you don't change your name to your bio dad's.
Serkan's name is very much a part of his identity. Which is why this story has so much potential, because it could shake Serkan to his very core to find out who he thought he was, was wrong. He thought he was unlovable, most importantly maybe he'll finally realize there was more at play there and it wasn't at fault.
Anonymous asked: There were a couple things in the last episode that didn't sit well with me. 1. I can't believe Eda made Serkan sleep outside at night and didn't feel bad in the morning when she realized he got sick! 2. The way Seyfi announced Aydan and Kemal's secret relationship. It wasn't his secret to tell, though Aydan did deserve the way everyone reacted. So I got over that pretty quick. 3. Burak!!! He's not the one for Melo. She deserves better and if they end up together in the end, I'm gonna protest.
1. Unless you're going to put the same energy into not believing that Serkan had the gal to remove his bed on the floor as a way to maneuver himself into Eda's bed before she was ready, I really can't relate. It was done for comedy, my advice is to unclench and just giggle along.
2. Or you could look at it as being unfair of Aydan to burden Seyfi with that secret and require he lie to his other employer for five years. I mean I don't disagree that it wasn't his secret to tell, but Aydan had plenty of chances, and it was time for it to come out.
3. This one we are in 100% agreement about. MELO DESERVES BETTER. I will die on this hill.
Anonymous asked: Hi! Do you think Serkan actually believes in Kerem's abilities (he trusts Eda's faith in Kerem) or is this part of his plan to win Eda back? Either way I'm okay, just wondering what you think.
No, I do not think he gained a sudden belief in Kerem's abilities, but I do think he believes in Eda. And if Eda believes in Kerem then when push comes to shove that is enough for Serkan. Of course, he did it as part of his plan to win Eda back. Serkan is taking every opportunity to let Eda know that he respects her and believes in her and I think this was another example of that. There was also an aspect of him trying to win over another person in Eda's circle who was suspicious of him. The fewer people he has working against him, the better! He knows he has no shot with Burak or Ayfer, so this episode he worked on Melo and Kerem. But mostly it was him trying to make Eda's life easier, by smoothing over a personnel problem she was having, thus making working out of Art Life a more attractive option for her. All of those things in one!
Anonymous asked: What do you think about Eda and Piril's friendship? This episode really highlighted how close they've gotten.
Yes, they have gotten close, and I'm happy Eda has a friend, but at the same time I don't trust Piril. This is a woman who discarded Eda and embraced Selin when she was manipulating and abusing a brain-damaged Serkan.
Eda might be able to forget, but I can't. Also as a character she's just boring, rigid and humorless. One of my least favorites on screen.
That being said I do like the triad dynamic of Kiraz/Can, Serkan/Engin, and Eda/Piril, it was fun when they were calling each other at the same time.
Anonymous asked: Idk if they reached out to Maya just because she looked like Hande considering she had no acting experience, but this little girl is like the best casting I've seen. The chemistry with Hande and Kerem is amazing. She's so expressive. I am a Kiraz stan.
She's doing a fantastic job, precious thing! I have no idea how they found her, I know she was an instagram model, but the SCK casting director strikes again. This season doesn't work if we don't fall in love with Kiraz. Thankfully, we did!
Anonymous asked: Hi! Since it seems that we will have 13 episodes, do you think that Edser reconciliation/wedding will be left for the finale, 12-13 ep? Cause Ayse loves to drag and keep them apart.
I think the wedding might be closer to the end, but I think reconciliation will be a bit sooner than that.
However, I have to say that it's really not like they're apart.. is it? I mean this episode we had them living together, sort of casually planning their future together. Next episode we have them pretending to be married and ramping up the sexual tension to white-hot-sun levels, these are all good things. With episodes like this, I don't personally consider the show dragging it out.
In fandom I see a lot of peeps upset because Eda isn't getting immediately back with Serkan and I am feeling inpatient as well, do you think the writers are making a mistake keeping them apart?
Again, I guess my response to you is, by what definition was this episode "keeping them apart?"
Yes, they aren't having sex, but they are living together, working together, raising their daughter together, and I'm a-okay with having a couple of delicious episodes of that while they are still not fully back together romantically. Let's be real, they're still waking up in bed together, flirting, and having a romantic dinner together, so it's not like things aren't moving forward, they are. I'd advise putting aside your impatience, and just sit back, relax, and let the story take its course. There is no need to be anxious with this one. They are going to end up with their happily ever after together, but what we're seeing right now is delightful. It's them in family and domestic situations, them with their child. Most shippers only dream of getting to see this.
This sort of goes back to my stance on episodes 16-24, I know that was a frustrating time for a lot of fans because they were "broken up" but I've always said they may have been officially broken up, but they were in a committed relationship that entire time. And I enjoyed those episodes from that perspective, that tension of them being "apart" but still functioning as a unit and still being emotionally tied together underneath it all. There's kind of a similar situation here, they aren't officially back together, Eda is resisting him, but they are in a committed relationship and I don't understand what the need is to rush through this part? Enjoy the sexual tension of them living together, but not sleeping together. Enjoy the rom com romp of Serkan trying to get in her bed, and Eda taking steps to keep him out. Enjoy their daughter putting them in situations that force them into close proximity, and enjoy them falling into easy compatibility without even trying. Enjoy Serkan planning romantic dinners, and Eda enjoying it despite her every effort to protect her heart.
To me this is very good stuff, and spending this time being impatient and wanting what didn't happen yet, instead of enjoying what did happen is pretty much the recipe for unhappiness not just with this show, but life.
Anonymous asked: i feel like i've seen the exact same frustrations ppl have had with eda right now back around the 20s too after serkan told her about her parents' secret. it was like, now that he's told her the truth, she should automatically forgive him and get back together. same thing happening here, with him accepting his role as kiraz's father. it feels like the same impatience that's put on eda to just forgive him already bc everyone wants happy edser and she's in the way lol.. like girl needs time!
Agreed, and it makes me wonder if these folks have ever watched television before, lmao. Patience! There's a story unfolding and from the first 6 episodes it's clear they have a season long arc planned. All in due time.
Eda spent five years thinking that Serkan stopped loving her, and discarded her for work. The second time he used that excuse to break her heart. My goodness, it's more than okay if she needs a little time to adjust and learn how to trust him again. PLUS that means we get to watch him work on her, try to make inroads, romance her, forge a relationship with his daughter and earn Eda's trust back. What's bad in that?
What did you think of the fragman? It's kind of dumb and unrealistic that they have to dance for a school admission interview.
LMAO. Yes, yes it is, but my question to you is, sana ne?
I mean why do you care if the set up is dumb or not? Or if it's realistic? It's a device to get Serkan and Eda to pretend to be married before they're fully back together and an excuse for us to see Edser smash themselves together in a sensual tangle of limbs while they pretend to be unaffected, while both are being engulfed in USTy flames.
I'm not complaining, why are you?
Come on, this show is silly, it has been from day one, enjoy the fact that we are getting silly plots that force our couple into hilarious and hot situations, because Hande and Kerem are going to give us gold, I guarantee it and I'm going to smile through every second watching it.
xxxxxxxxxx
These asks are from episode 44, they came in and I didn't have time to answer before 45 aired:
Anonymous asked: Do you think there is a point when there are too many “parallels” and it becomes more like scenes are being recycled? Because I kinda felt that way in the last episode. Like she’s just tossing in as many things as she can from those first 11 episodes but I’ve already watched those and Id rather we focus more character progression. I feel like they regressed from those honest conversations last week and were back to being petty this week.
I guess my answer is... no, I don't think there have been too many parallels. Episode 44 was partly about truth bubbling to the surface, with the biggest truth being that Serkan has been in love with Eda every minute of every day since they parted. That is a very important thing for Eda to understand and know and they really can't move forward until she does, because she felt unloved and forgotten all those years. Most of the parallels were illustrating that by showing that he held on to their history, he remembered their history and he honored it. Okay by me.
Anonymous asked: There were some amazing dialogues in the episode. I have two that tie for top. One was when Kiraz said that Serkan was her wish (when blowing her birthday candles), and the other was when Serkan said Apollo was never going to give up on the woman he loves nor on the cherries! Oh my heart had feels both times. What were your favourite dialogues in the episode?
Oh man my head is in 45 now, but both of those examples of yours were great. I loved both of them.
The other than springs to mind is while fishing, Eda telling Serkan that he didn't need to be perfect for Kiraz to love him, he just had to be himself.
Swoon.
That's so important for Serkan to hear, because he doesn't think he's worthy of love as himself, so hearing that from Eda is impactful.
Anonymous asked: reading your ep review, i think a big reason some people are hanging on to hate the s2 plot no matter what are just bc they hate the writer. of course not everyone, but a lot of people will just hate on anything she writes out of spite, even if objectively the episode is very good. idk why that is or when ppl decided they hated her but it's not warranted at all imo. i can understand not liking the premise of this season, but after watching it so far there has been SUCH an improvement edser-wise.
People can like, dislike, love, hate anything they want. Consuming entertainment doesn't have to be a team sport. That being said, from what I've seen I'd agree with your assessment. Teams have formed (Anti-Ayse, Pro-Ayse, etc) and the former are too invested in hating everything she does, the former possibly too forgiving at times. That's their choice, but I have to say I feel bad for the anti brigade, this is a show they loved, and most of them are still watching, but they've completely sabotaged themselves from finding any joy in any of it and I think they're going to regret it once it's over.
Also season 2 is so much better than I thought it could be. I honestly thought there was no way to get back to the early quality, but it's here. The show is really watchable and fun this season, and it's a shame for those who've let their attitudes get so negative that they can't enjoy it.
Anonymous asked: Ok so I'm aware this would be highly uncharacteristic of a dizi - but if they know there's only 6 eps left, my dream would be no more big bad events and just spend it rebuilding EdSer as a couple and a family. Would that be too much to ask lol. They've jumped from one disaster to another. Since we're at the end & they have the luxury of knowing it, I just want to see them working through things as a real unit. They've dated for like 7 eps out of 45? Can we get that above 10 at least????
Congratulations! Because that's exactly what we've gotten so far in season 2. Once we got past the trauma of the 5 year time jump, all the drama has been internal to Eda and Serkan and their relationship. The whole season so far has been about rebuilding Edser as a couple and a family. And if you're watching without the tauntruming twitter teens in your ear, you'd realize we ARE watching them work through things as a real unit.
I'll say this until I'm blue in the face (apparently) just because they are not currently sexing each other up, does not mean they aren't emotionally doing all the things necessary to reach their full potential as a couple.
They are. It's happening. Enjoy it.
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keeper-not-hero · 3 years
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MY THREE HUMANS AND MY THREE TROLLS ARE FINALLY DONE BEING THOUGHT ABOUT AND ARE NOW PLACED INTO THE WORLD FOR YOU TO ENJOY READING ABOUT, Massive post under read more!!!
[Obs: These ain’t kids. They’re all in their early 20’s tho.]
Gatolt Osbizb (name means nothing. = Muse of Doom.) - 
Looks: Hair that goes down to her shoulders, curly and surprisingly well groomed. Skin (and body) made up of tiny chunks stitched together. Fingers, hands, legs, slightly different shades of grey, with seams colored with the multitude of different blood types beneath. Blank eyes, shirt and pants. Simplistic dress code.
Personality: A hodgepodge of Troll flesh, bones, and a few cybernetic enhancements all stitched together into a singular being. Goldblood, purple blood, violet, and more. Both of her eyes are blank (though she can still see thanks to cyberoptics), and she is usually in at least a mild amount of pain due to the strain of her body barely being able to keep itself together. Despite all that, she tries to act cheery and tries to be the life of her friend circle, though not always with success. And besides, she rarely tries to mingle outside of it, feeling unwelcome in other circles.
Constantly requires maintenance which she usually does herself, and… fresh replacements. Her creator fucked up in making her, which means she is now slowly yet constantly rotting away, to the point every part of her body except the brain and enhancements are different than her first resurrection.  Her girlfriend, Bakhus, usually helps with gathering ‘replacements’. She feels like a burden due to her condition that sometimes leaves her bedridden for days, which makes her stay quiet and sometimes even enable her friends’ bad habits, because she doesn’t want to be a drag. Hates the fact her whole life revolves around her condition. Likes gardening and clockwork.
Bakhus Gredui (Greedy Bacchus / Dionysius. = Thief of Void)  - 
Looks: Hair that goes all the way to the floor and a few feet behind her, greasy, messy, and dragging food bits in it. Tank top with her sign (Sign of the Brazen) on it, suspenders and oversized clown pants. Juggalo make-up messy and somewhat faded, droopy yellow eyes, usually with a hunched stance. Very, very tall, and extremely strong - with some healthy weight to her body to go along with it.
Personality: A purple-blood that represses her kind and motherly urges under liters and liters of Faygo. A chef at heart and a great cook from years of experience, she constantly throws barbecues and small carnivals on her massive garden, which attracts lowblood and highblood alike. Her festivities have become small gathering spots for those who wish to mingle with the upper / lower classes despite their own status, and for spies of both the Condescension and those who oppose her. Bakhus is, of course, too busy grilling to mind that she has accidentally created the perfect neutral spot.
Despite her cooking prowess, the Faygo inhibits both her ability to feel much empathy or care about the taste of her food. Deliciously cooked and prepared meals placed near overly-sugary, soggy, Faygo-drenched pretzels. She carries a massive cookbook alongside her massive pot, which has recipes that certain blood types enjoy, and… recipes made out of said blood types. She has no qualms cooking violets and reds, and sometimes will go so far as to grab Faygo-drunk trolls in her cookout and take them inside to ‘rest’. They’re never seen again.
Also keeps a small spice garden. Gatolt usually takes care of it, with whatever isn’t used to cook as fertilizer. Occasionally, she sends the butchered corpses to Marciu. Who also happens to be Gatolt’s creator.
Marciu Shelli (Like, y’know. Mary Shelley. Frankenstein’s author. = Seer of Space)  - 
Looks: Short hair, think Eridan, but with no streak. Scrawny to a fault, and clearly underfed. Big scientist glasses with special prescription lenses, white lab robes that hide his starving figure and his left hand gloved with thick, hazmat-suit-like protection. The right one is a prosthetic, indigo tubes and wires trying to replicate the sensation of the original with… some success. Pointy nose, sharp teef.
Personality: Anxious, skittery and, quite frankly pitiful even for an indigo blood, Marciu spends most of his days either robbing graves for corpses or putting his ill-gotten gains to use in his laboratory. Deeply resentful of feelings he has about himself, he buries them deep within him and, to make sure no one can say he is valid or try to empathize with his pain, keeps pushing himself further and further down the hole until he pushes everyone away. Having lost a hand to a nasty accident involving a bone saw and a few too many of Bakhus’ spiked snacks, he also has a mechanical replacement.
A master of biomechanical engineering, he constantly creates half-troll, half-machine abominations to help him around the lab. Rotten servants just barely able to move their joints with hollow eyes and faces, mechanical hearts pumping blood and fuel throughout the system. Still, despite his best attempts at being as repugnant as possible, his friends still cling to him.
Except Gatolt. Gatolt has actively tried to kill him multiple times, being stopped only by Bakhus’ eternal kindness to the weirdo that occasionally gives her “aged” ingredients. Also, his human friends.
[Why does he have human friends? Idk, Pesterchum + machines or AU where humans and trolls live in the same world after a few Sburb/Sgrub/Swhatever versions playing out after homestuck and Lord English being gone.]
Bert Kairos (Albert Einstein and his whole relativity stuff + Kairos, a greek concept of time. = Mage of Time.)  - 
Looks: Very short and very curly hair. Dark skin, both legs missing, though one has a very unpolished, simplistic metal prosthetic to help him stand in one foot. Right arm missing too, half of a prosthetic attached to it,cut off at the elbow from an accident. Hasn’t bothered replacing it yet. Blouse with a robot symbol and shorts, chin stubble. Brown eyes.
Personality: A gentle soul who makes more time for everyone else than he ever did to himself. Spending literal days away from his parents’ home, staying in his makeshift workshop creating toys for the kids on his street and to help the people of his community. Lost both legs and an arm from accidents with heavy machinery and cars that he work repairing to make a living, usually for meager scraps out of the kindness of his own heart and the belief that it’s all part of a greater plan that he barely gets enough to survive, relying on crutches and Marciu’s prosthetics that often break because of even more accidents due to his very precarious working conditions.
He dreams of one day being able to inspire people, though. A big, endless machine of silly, simple delights. Not curing the world, not controlling the weather, a machine with the same utility as a painting. A machine that could cover the entire world in its width and length, proof that humanity can do anything if it just bands together. A wish that sometimes consumes his mind as he spends hours on end, instead of sleeping, building small moving pieces that will hopefully one day help fill this whole. This magnificent machine he will make to help mankind flourish through its artistic value, that they will sing his name in praise for generations, that mankind will be uplifted until we don’t need work, money, barriers, differences, just a homogenous mass streaking across the cosmos with machine brilliance. 
But, he has way too many people to take care of, so he never dabbles on it too much.
Andy Eissuh ( :) - Lord of Life) - 
Looks: Blonde hair tied in a manbun. Bushy stubble beard all over his face. Smuggest fucking grin you’ve ever seen. Blue eyes. Average height, an air of superiority that is as annoying as it is believable due to how he carries himself; like an untouchable douchebag. White tuxedo and business pants, y’know, like a doctor. Right? He’s even got the white cross! Yeah, sure, that sounds right. Like he cares about proper dress code for doctors.
Personality: A very, very, very bad doctor. A very bad doctor that has just enough good reputation and far too much money from their family to let their pretty much 100% patient loss rate slip without anyone being able to pry into it. Patient comes in, body bag goes out, and nothing ever leaves the hospital. The one time he actually saved someone was by accident, and it was a botched (and misdiagnosed by him) liver transplant where he accidentally removed the appendix instead of said liver, forgot to replace it, and the patient recovered in a short while with the help of the nurses from what he later learned was appendicitis.
Believing himself to be able to do no wrong, with a chirpy, colorful yet aggressively passive personality, he keeps his friend group around mostly to dispose of the bodies without many questions asked, and so he can feel better than the pathetic wretches he considers them. Completely blind to his irredeemably cruel medical malpractices, which he didn’t even study for, he simply bought his way into a degree because he “could feel it was my destiny.” Soft, sweet, and completely unhinged. Finding great joy preying upon the insecurities and naivete of his peers, which he feels is a breeding ground to use and abuse them for his own needs. Shoulda been smarter if you didn’t wanna get taken advantage of, duh!
Cain Pyrite (Cain the first sinner + Fool’s Gold. = Rogue of Light. ) -
Looks: Hair slightly above his shoulders, dark and greasy. Sickly pale skin, beeg librarian glasses. A nice fuzzy coat, plus shirt, plus jeans. Eye symbol on his coat. Looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks, which, yeah, is absolutely right. Gentle smile, though it occasionally cracks into a nervous attempt at hiding… something!
Personality: Dedicated to… no, OBSESSED with preserving occult and ancient knowledge. Scrolls from ancient alchemists, bones of kings, relics thought long since lost hidden on the back of his seemingly normal book shop. Spending most of his days with no clients, he occasionally gets someone who is aware of his darker inclinations. He is always happy to trade knowledge for knowledge and artifact for artifact.
Only, not always the originals. No. Never the originals. 
Always finding a way to spin a story and make sure that he can spot out any fakes, he builds his collection of convincing lies, and hidden truths. Friends with the others since grave-digging always inherits some fun and interesting things, and his appetite for the esoteric and forgotten is only comparable for his taste in interesting and unique foods.
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corinnesamuels · 3 years
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Guarding the Gates Chapter 5: Desperation Makes a Man Do Terrible Things
Lily isn’t responding to James’ letters. In fact, she isn’t even opening them. She knows that he knows this because Sirius told her that he told him so. 
She knows that she’ll stop ignoring him eventually, but until then? He can sulk. 
She tells Remus as much one day when he calls her on the Floo. 
“You’re driving him crazy, you know.” Remus says. His voice holds no judgment, just the facts of the matter.
“He’s a full-grown wizard, Remus. He’ll be fine.” Lily sits cross-legged on the rug in front of her fireplace, lazily popping a crisp into her mouth and giving a cavalier shrug. 
“For whatever it’s worth, he agrees with you. He’s trying to figure out how to agree with you without pushing her away.”
“I know he does.” Lily rolls her eyes at the mention of her. “He wears his heart on his sleeve like he always has. My frustration lies in the fact that he allows her ridiculous comments to go on so often. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d never allow—”
“What you once did?” Remus asks.
Lily stops, caught off guard by the statement. The Marauders rarely mentioned or referenced Severus Snape by choice anymore. She hasn’t heard anyone mention her former friend in several years, actually. But Lily knew that Remus was referencing how she had allowed Severus to share his inhospitable thoughts about James, though, at the time, she and James were only mildly friendly. They hadn’t become close until after she and Severus had stopped being friends. She slowly chews another crisp, mulling over Remus’ comment.
“This situation is different. And that was a long time ago.” 
Lily knows her words aren’t lies, but she also knows that Remus’ words aren’t either.
“It is, and it was.” Remus agrees fairly. “I only hope that you would remember it just enough to extend him some grace as he figures this out. He doesn’t want to lose either of you.”
Lily lets out an annoyed sigh. “I don’t understand how he can be with someone who doesn’t understand what’s happening. How is he not annoyed and frustrated by the way she thinks? How? When we’ve seen him hex people for less?”
Remus hesitates, tilting his head slightly. “I won’t weigh in on that. But I’d imagine people never know what they would do in a war until it’s on their doorstep. That’s where Miranda probably is. But he would lay his life down to protect you.” He catches her eye through the green flames in the fireplace. “You do know that? That we all would?”
“I wouldn’t allow it.” Lily says obstinately.
Remus chuckles. “It’s my understanding that you don’t always have a choice in the matter when the time comes.” She hears a door open and shut in the background, followed by heavy footsteps.
“Moony, have you seen . . . oh, who are you talking to?” a voice asks.
Lily rolls her eyes. “Really, Remus?”
Remus winces apologetically, and she sees James’ shins stiffen at hearing her voice. “I’m at Sirius’ place.” Remus says. “I didn’t know he was coming over this early.” 
“He’s right. I wasn’t due for another few hours.” James says. “But I’ll let the two of you have at it.” His tone is neutral, and Lily knows it’s forced.
She thinks about telling him thanks and carrying on her conversation with Remus but sighs heavily again instead. It’s been two weeks. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. “If you’d still like to talk, come through the Floo. I’m waiting on some treacle to finish up, so you might as well.”
She can only see just above his kneecaps, but she can tell his whole body relaxes at her words. Not only is treacle tart his favorite, but it is also the extent of her culinary prowess, potions skills be damned. Euphemia had taught her how to make it over the course of several lazy summer days at the manor, and while other recipes never seemed to stick, this one had. 
Lily hadn’t put much thought into why she decided to make treacle today. Until now, that is. Though the idea is unsettling, Lily realizes that even though she was angry with James and her feelings were bruised, she’d made it because she missed him. Her brain was just now catching up.
How many times had she made it while abroad? For the same exact reason?
James steps through her fireplace and dusts himself off. He looks uncertain as to where to sit or stand or even what to do with his hands. She remains seated at her place on the floor, silently looking up at him, knowing the uncomfortable silence was doing him in. Finally, she gestures at the space next to her, and he joins her on the floor.
James starts talking before he even makes it to the ground. “Lils, I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did.” He says I wasn’t prepared for you and Miranda to be at odds, but I should have stepped in. I should have done more.”
“You should have.” Lily nods in agreement.
“I don’t agree with the things she’s said, Lily.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t realize that she didn’t see what was happening with Voldemort. I just assumed that she viewed things the same way the boys and I do. I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle the conversations with her, but I haven’t done a good enough job, clearly.” James lets out a heavy sigh. “I never meant for you to be hurt in the process. And I know that doesn’t change how it probably feels. I felt terrible about it. I still feel terrible about it.”
Lily watches as James’ gaze moves from her to the floor to other areas of her flat, as if he’s ashamed to look at her for too long. “I’m not asking you to pick me over her.” She responds, keeping her voice level. “I just want to not have to be the first person to step in and handle the situation every time. It’s exhausting to have to defend my kind against someone who seems to be woefully and purposefully misinformed.”
James sighs again. “I won’t argue against that. But I talked to her, and I think she’s starting to get it now. There was an article in the Prophet last week and—well . . .” He clears his throat. “It opened her eyes to some things. But you haven’t been wrong. And I owe you an apology for letting things escalate without stepping up. You deserve more from me as a friend. You’ll get more.”
She ponders this for a moment as he holds her gaze, longer this time than before. She has no goodwill left in her for Miranda, but she trusts James to stick to his word. She scans his face and eyes before extending a pinky toward him. James is confused at first, but as his mind catches up, he laughs and links it with a pinky of his own.
“Pinky swear?” she asks.
“Pinky swear.” He confirms. She notices that his whole demeanor has changed, his shoulders look lighter, and the distressed look she’d seen when he came through her fireplace has given way to a soft smile. It looks better on him.
“So, catch me up then. What’s new in your world since I last opened one of your letters?” she asks. James looks as if he wants to roll his eyes but doesn’t want to push his luck.
He fills her in on Puddlemere’s new Seeker and his hopes for how it will increase their chances for the English Cup before sharing how excited and anxious he is to begin practicing with the rest of the English team in the World Cup. She can’t help but smile as he describes it, she’d always loved watching his eyes light up when he talked about Quidditch. He asks about her, and she tells him about her recent trip to the cinema with Dorcas and Mary to see the newest installment of their favorite spy film series.
“That Band bloke? The less dashing, less talented James?” he scoffs in jest. Lily rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder.
“It’s Bond, James, and don’t act like you don’t know it.”
    Now that Lily and James had made up, it felt as if all of their friends were breathing a little easier, though some of it may have to do with the fact that Miranda was around less and less, and never when Lily was present. Sometimes that meant that James had to leave early to take her to dinner, or sometimes missed hanging out altogether, but no one complained.
With the tension in their group diminished, it becomes more and more difficult for Remus to hide his struggles. He’s beginning to look thinner, and his clothes more threadbare. Lily knows that he’s painting it as the usual side effects of an approaching full moon, but Lily isn’t fooled. His latest job had gotten suspicious of his monthly absences and decided that it was best that they part ways. 
That was two months ago. He hadn’t yet managed to find work again.
Lily mentions this to James and Sirius as she brews a few healing potions to help Remus’ recovery after the upcoming full moon. Peter is at work, and Remus, getting progressively more ill as the full moon looms closer, is at his flat attempting to rest up, though they all know that there is no rest to be found until after the full moon passes. 
“Sirius, did you come to pick up these potions and salves for Remus, or did you come to eat all of my snacks?” She asks dryly as he helps himself to the various wares in her scullery. 
“I believe it’s what the muggles call ‘two birds with one stone,’ Red.” Sirius replies. Lily rolls her eyes as James attempts to stifle a laugh. 
“Sirius and I have both offered to support him, but he won’t take it.” James says, going back to the conversation at hand.
“His pride is making it very difficult.” Sirius grumbles.
“Your pride would make things difficult too if you were worried about being a burden.” Lily points out. “Is there a way we could subtly get him to take help?”
“You mean tricking him into it?” James asks.
“It sounds distasteful when you say it like that.” She frowns.
“Call it whatever you want, Evans, but you might be onto something.” James responds as he begins pacing. “I could talk to Dad and make Sunday tea at the manor a more regular occurrence.” 
“We could also drop food and things off at his door and disapparate before he has time to reject them.” Sirius offers as he pops a pretzel into his mouth. 
“Oh! I could ‘accidentally’ overcook meals a few times a week!” Lily says, proud of her excellent idea. “Surely Remus won’t let the food go to waste.”
James stops pacing, and the pretzel Sirius had begun tossing into his mouth misses, hitting him in the eye instead. The two men exchange looks before James opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the right words.
“Lily you have so many great qualities—” James says, eventually.
“Amazing, really—” Sirius adds. 
“I’ve seen you do things with a cauldron people could only dream of doing—” James continues.
“Most mortal men can only begin to fathom—”
“But when it comes to your cooking . . .”
“It’s absolutely dreadful.” Sirius says, shaking his head slowly.
Lily’s jaw drops, and James’ eyes grow wide behind his glasses. “Er . . . I was going to say that it wouldn’t be playing to your strengths.”
Sirius either ignored or didn’t catch James’ attempt at diplomacy. “I’ve never seen such a disparity between potion-making and cooking. Fascinating, really.”
“Are you quite finished?” Lily asks tightly.
Read the rest at ao3!
Start from the beginning
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theflashdriver · 3 years
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Guardian (A Silvaze Fanfic)
For as long as Blaze had known him, Silver had always been an overprotective person. Outside naiveté and obviousness, the hedgehog’s strong sense of justice and want to make things right were his strongest traits by a wide margin; he’d take far countless burdens upon himself of both miniscule and galactic proportions. Even with the future saved, even though he was now living peacefully in the Sol Dimension, that fire had never truly left his heart. His protective passion had merely been lying dormant, searching out something new to focus upon. Well, starting around three months ago, it’d found its new target.
Blaze the cat, the queen and guardian of the Sol emeralds, was lounging atop a floating couch formed from pure psychic energy; being paraded around the library she’d once freely walked. Silver the hedgehog, the king and co-guardian of those aforementioned emeralds, was pulling book after book from the shelves in search of a tome she’d requested, constantly glancing back to make certain that she was comfortable. Psychic aura had begun to flare in an effort to expedite the process; books were being tugged from shelves, held to his eye, and flung back when they were found to be incorrect.
He was being silly, the feline was more than capable of seeking out the book for herself but, truth be told, she was enjoying this little display. Beads of sweat were gathering upon his brow; Silver had only been searching for ten or fifteen minutes but he was clearly worried that he was taking too long. It wasn’t as though they were in a rush and the book was hardly that important, it was just another addition to their ever-growing pile of baby-related literature, but he was seeking it out with the same fervour he’d used to pursue Iblis. This was all so mundane, but Blaze couldn’t help taking joy in it.
“Are you sure we’re in the right section?” He managed to ask, raking ten books from a shelf only to just as quickly throw them back, “We’re getting close to the end.”
“It’s here somewhere,” She cooed, reclining deeper into her floating chair, “I’m certain it was around this section.”
That was all the convincing he needed; Silver doubled his efforts immediately. Books from even higher up began to tumble but refused to contact the ground, encased in psychic cyan light. He threw glances in every direction, knowing instinctually when a book was hovering at his side. To put it plainly, the hedgehog was putting far too much effort into a relatively simple task.
The royal library was quiet today, devoid of visiting scholars and legal practitioners, but it’d been that way for a while now. Certain recent events had caused activity within the palace to slow and work-based visitation to greatly diminish. Well, it wasn’t as though the childcare section was usually bustling with life (in fact, they’d found it quite dusty upon their first visit) but the more complete calm of their surroundings had made their literature reviews far easier. Nowadays they couldn’t leave the palace without someone prying into their lives. It’d been years since life was last like that.
He froze in place, eyes darting twice across a single cover, before it was snatched from the air and presented to her, “Is this the one? The cover’s just like you described it.”
The hedgehog had produced a tome medium in size, only around one hundred pages long and (if she recalled correctly) filled with pictures. Its cover art depicted an array of cartoon fruit and vegetables tumbling free from an overfull mixing-bowl. Now that she’d seen the title, she immediately recalled her frantic flip-through a month ago; Nutrition and Newborns. This was indeed the book she’d requested.
She didn’t take the book immediately; instead, she leant in and beyond his outstretched hand, allowing her lips to weave their way onto his cheek, “Thank you, Silver.”
They’d been married for years and had of course performed acts far more intimate than such a tiny kiss, but watching his blush grow in response to her tenderness had rather become one of Blaze’s pastimes. As the book left his hand, it came to cup that very cheek while his prior beaming smile transformed into a more crooked, embarrassed, grin. He was still so plainly love-struck; rather recently she’d caught him in the wee hours of the morning, rubbing his wedding band and throwing her supposedly sleeping form all manner of tender glances. They’d been married for years but that reality still seemed to surprise him. Well, given the lives they’d lived, he could hardly blame him for feeling that.
“Do you want me to find anything else, do any others come to mind?” He asked, “I could go back through this section, see if we’ve missed anything good?”
“Perhaps later, this will do for now,” She attempted to quell his eagerness, “Let’s take things one book at a time, we’ve still got a few months after all.”
He smiled at that, almost daydreaming as the last books jumped back onto their shelves, “Yeah, just a few more months…” Silver reached up, she quickly took his hand.
Rather than simply float her, it was almost as though they were walking together; he led her back through aisle upon aisle of books to their little workspace. The worn couch and low table rather stood in stark contrast to their surroundings. While the royal library was filled with exquisitely crafted dark-wooden fixtures and floored with a deep emerald carpet, their table was formed of wrought iron and pale driftwood (crafted by Marine the raccoon herself) while the couch had more than a few patches sewn into it but was, mostly, wrapped in a soft red material. Truthfully, getting furniture that better matched their surroundings would have been easy, even if Blaze hadn’t been the queen, but the pair rather loved those mismatched pieces. Those out of place furnishings reminded her, and surely him, of their childhood amongst the flames but not the chaos tied to it. This spot reminded Blaze of ramshackle homes made in prior libraries, schoolhouses and musty old churches, their sanctuaries within a dangerous world.
The feline felt herself turn in the air, her hand slipped from his as she was gently lowered onto the couch; his psychic chair dissolved from the bottom up as it made contact with a real one and left sitting on the couch’s left side. Silver didn’t join her on it though; instead he stood on the far side of the table, concern still plain in his eyes. Knowing what was coming, her mouth curled into a small smile.
“Do you want more pillows or a blanket or…” Silver scrambled for more things to offer. He was trying so hard already, she felt lazy but so very cared for, “Something to eat, a drink…?”
He wanted to help so badly; Blaze felt herself grow softer still. She wanted to give him something to do, “We could take tea and read this together?”
“I’ll make a pot of decaf and hurry back,” He promised, beginning to turn away, “Are you sure that’s all?”
Ah yes, they had to cut back on caffeine… well, only she had to, but he wasn’t willing to let her face that alone. She was well beyond vomiting every morning, but cravings still lingered. The mere consideration of her common cravings caused one to spike.
Pinning her gaze to the book and trying to act nonchalant, she posited, “Perhaps a little bit of chocolate.”
Silver halted. He reached into his back quills and, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, produced a small, unopened, chocolate bar. Without so much as blinking, he presented it to her.
When he, eventually, noticed her befuddled expression, Silver simply smiled, “It’s your most common craving and I don’t like leaving you uncomfortable so…”
She felt heat across her face as she gingerly took the bar from him. Her eyes latched onto it, she could feel her tail flailing wildly, “Thank you, Silver…”
Was she really that obvious? Has she had this hankering that often? He interrupted her train of thought to reaffirm, “I’ll be as quick as I can, just shout if there’s anything else!” Before shooting between a set of bookshelves and towards the door, surrounded by psychic light.
Blaze slowly pulled back the foil and took a bite, but the taste did nothing to dispel her embarrassment. Her royal position had meant that, in this life at least, lots of people had tried to look after her, but none of them did it quite like him. Despite how oblivious Silver was to certain things, the hedgehog could notice the slightest of shifts in her disposition and pick up on things even she didn’t truly understand. Apparently, there were differences in the ways she purred and oddities in how her tail flicked but she’d be hard pressed to describe them. She supposed her cravings were far more obvious than those physical quirks, but it still seemed so bizarre.
Having eaten two of the bar’s eight total squares, the queen folded closed the wrapper and set it aside. She took up the book and scanned through the contents page: Foreword, Introduction, Nutritional-Timelines, Common-Mistakes, Weaning, Liquid-Foods, Solid-Foods and Additional-Recipes. Flipping through, only glancing, Blaze found that the wording was simple yet detailed, intended to be easily read but simultaneously informative. The illustrations also seemed helpful, they’d seemed rather useless on a cursory glance but, in hindsight, the feline needed all the help she could get with regards to cooking.
Before she could make a true judgement on the book’s quality though, the whir of psychic energy re-entered the room. She looked up from her book just in time for him to land in the exact spot she’d last seen him, tea tray in hand and a strong pillar of steam rising from a large pot. His quills had swept back to pin against his head and the sweat on his brow was plain. The kitchen wasn’t too far away but he’d plainly rushed, utilising far more of his power than he probably should have. The tea couldn’t have had more than a moment to brew; they’d have to leave it for now.
Despite this, Silver so very casually set the tray on the table and slunk around to sit beside her, “So, does it look alright? Anything interesting inside?”
“Well, it looks to be half nutritional guide and half cookbook; just like I remembered,” She responded, flicking her way back to the start and shifting to hold the manual between them, “I think it’s intended for slightly younger parents, but that just means it’s thorough and well detailed.”
The hedgehog shifted closer still, outer leg brushed outer leg, “So we’ll get a few new recipes out of it at the very least.”
With that, the pair begun their shared reading session; they quickly worked their way through the foreword and into the meat of the book. Her initial impression was proven correct, as she took in the nutrient-timelines, the information about baby’s requirements was handled gently yet informatively. Unfortunately, however, it was at this stage that Blaze noticed a change in her companion’s demeanour. The hedgehog wasn’t truly looking at the book, rather he was looking through and past it to what lay on the other side; a goofy smile had spread across his muzzle.
Knowing what was distracting him, Blaze rolled her eyes, but her smile grew further, “Go on, get it out of your system so that we can focus properly.”
Upturning the book and placing it upon the couch’s arm, Blaze gently raised the hem of her blouse. Her belly was revealed, still far from its full size but undeniably substantially grown. The royal baby was well on its way; the pyrokinetic feline was four and a half months pregnant. The father of her unborn child dropped to the carpet and began to tickle and brush his way through her white fur, plainly enamour by the growing form residing within her. Parenthood was so strange but it plainly excited him. Well, it excited them both, but he wasn’t literally attached to the baby twenty-four hours per day. He had to make his love known in more sporadic bursts.
They weren’t wandering into this blindly; they’d spent almost a year just questioning whether it was right to do. The life of a royal was one embroiled in politics and, even with the threats to their world long gone, the duties of a guardian were a lifelong burden. Working against that notion were their similar histories; Silver could hardly remember his parents and neither of Blaze’s had lived beyond her birth, their younger years had been wrung of relaxation by terrifying responsibilities. They’d been thoroughly enticed by even the notion of normalcy tied to parenthood. Their potential to give someone the comfort that they’d lacked had finally pushed them to decide.
Other factors had been considered of course, such as whether or how their inherent abilities would be passed on and the latent additional responsibility that would come with them. Silver’s powers were still an anomaly, unknown in origin and genetic nature, while Blaze’s had been consistently passed on for generations. Historically, her family’s powers had never mixed with another so, even as the baby grew inside her; they had no idea what would happen. It’d all been an almost blind endeavour that had, thankfully, come to bear fruit.
Blaze’s eyes closed as she felt his muzzle gently press against the bump and his fingers found her sides, “Hello there, it’s just me again.”
No response came from the baby bump, of course it didn’t, but that didn’t stop the hedgehog from listening intently. From her position it was difficult to make out Silver’s expression but from the way his ears had slightly flopped forward and the steady beating of his tail, Blaze knew this was exactly what he wanted. Despite the effort he’d gone to searching out that book, Blaze found herself forgetting their task as she looked upon him.
“I hope you’re doing okay in there, we won’t get to see each other for a while yet but I can’t wait,” He’d shifted slightly, letting his forehead press against the bump instead, “Your mum is doing wonderfully and I’m trying my best to help. I want things to be perfect when we finally do meet. Things are nicer here than they’ve ever been and we’re doing so much to prepare for you.“
Purrs broke past Blaze’s lips, their rumbling filling the quiet library. Her hand slowly came to mingle among his quills, gently rearranging them with no real purpose. Perhaps she’d braid them again tonight, their evening routine had rather changed due to their upcoming arrival. Where once they’d simply snuggle their way into bed, their journey to the land of the sleeping now took a few twists and turns. They always tried to do something before bed, considering that they’d soon be so much busier, they wanted to cherish such quiet moments. Massages would be given, books would be read, they’d play chess, watch a movie or she’d simply find herself playing with his fur.
Her touch caught his attention, the psychic’s eyes flickered up to her before returning to her midriff, “The baby’s right there, I can practically feel them, but it still doesn’t seem real…” Silver mumbled, leaning backwards and into her view, “I never really thought we’d get to…”
Words left unsaid resonated with Blaze’s very soul. One hand slipped from the depths of his quills to cup his cheek, “I wake up some mornings and question it myself, it almost seems impossible.”
“A-All of it does,” He managed to respond, “Even just being here, that weight being off our shoulders, is ridiculous. W-We’re safe, we’re comfortable, we’re together, we’re married…”
She could feel his wedding band as he brushed and rubbed the bump, hers was pressed against his muzzle, “I don’t regret a single thing, not a single moment.”
His eyes shot to meet with hers, “Me neither! I don’t at all, I just…” His head slumped into her grasp, seeking out her warmth, “Its been years since we settled, and I thought I had fully settled, but this it’s a step even further. This is normal, this is how things were meant to be; so very normal.”
She watched his tears begin to well and couldn’t help but smile. After all this time, he could still be so insecure, “Parenthood seems normal yet abnormal. We know it in theory and have our assumptions but it’s an all-new challenge, a brand-new adventure. No matter how we prepare, I’m certain something will surprise us.”
“We can read all we want but…“ As tears spilled panic came with them, “If I’m going to be a good dad I need to be even tougher than this,” He’d raised the back of his right hand to rub at his eyes, he was trying to hide his expression, “I-I shouldn’t be crying, there’s nothing to cry about, this is wonderful. I’m meant to be strong…”
“You’re still so naïve,” Refusing to let her hold be broken, Blaze thumbed away his tears. He managed to resettle in her grasp, “It’s just as you said; we were so on saving the future, neither of us thought we’d make it this far. You’re allowed to feel like this,” She promised, “We went through so much to get here, that’s why you feel this way. That and, well, parenthood scares most regular people. We’ve not lived the normal life we want for them.”
“You’re going to be wonderful at this,” He relaxed back into her touch, “You’re smart and strong and warm, you’ll do great,” He paused, as if unsure whether to ask his next question, “Do you think I’ll make a good dad?”
“Silver,” She sighed, shifting to cradle his head in her hands, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, you’re going to be a fantastic father. The baby’s not even here yet you’re trying so hard. I can hardly imagine how caring you’ll be when they finally arrive. I doubt you’ll put them down for days.”
He smiled at that but concern still cut his brow, “I’m so excited but so scared, what if we have to fight again? What if they have to fight,” He fretted, leaning deeper into her touch. They’d of course discussed this in the lead up to her pregnancy but, while they’d decided they wanted a child regardless, Blaze had anticipated that worry returning.
“What if we did have to fight again?” She asked, knowing it was best that he finished his train of thought.
“I would, of course I would, but…” He struggled for the right words, “I just really don’t want them to. I don’t want them to have to do what we’ve done,” Fighting for one’s own life was bad enough, the pressure of fighting for whole worlds was terrifying. It was a fact they both knew, first-hand, “I want them to grow up safe and happy and peaceful. I want to be able to look out for them rather than whole universes.”
“Well, then you don’t have to worry about being a good dad, I know you’ll make a great one,” She promised, “You want them to be secure and loved, that’s what’s most important,” The queen insisted, “We’ve done all we can to make sure that they can live peacefully, more than any normal parents could have, even if that wasn’t our intent at the time.”
He’d slowly gone from kneeling to standing; his right hand had shifted to cover the top of her baby bump and the left had arrived to hold her shoulder. The echoes of his tears remained, but his smile was almost blinding. Slowly but surely, he leaned in and closed his eyes. His forehead met with hers as he began to nuzzle. Without a moment’s hesitation, Blaze returned that gentle contact.
Sweet nothings were murmured, her hands found his chest fur and soon they were freely kissing. They were gentle and brief kisses, little more than back and forth pecks, but Blaze could feel his heart in every single one. Silver’s defensiveness had easily led into softness; while he’d fight ferociously to protect others, he would also handle them with care. Blaze knew that she was going to be the sterner parent, she’d be the one to insist that they get out of bed or do their chores, but she was more than fine with that. It was in her nature, not his. For as defensive as he was, for as much as he wanted things to be just, he’d always been softer than her. Of course he was worried that he’d have to feign hardness, she hoped he’d never have to again.
Wispy words broke the quiet library air. She wanted to reassure him, even if she didn’t know what the future held, “We’ve done so much together; we can do anything together.”
“If we can manage something as impossible as this,” She felt his hand trace across his midriff, “Th-Then we can do anything.”
This intimate session could have lasted hours, perhaps even the rest of the evening, but it was interrupted by something neither of them had expected. As Blaze was leaning in again, the words “You’re such a softy” tumbling from her lips, she felt what she could only describe as a small fluttering inside her abdomen. It’d taken a moment to register but by the time the sensation repeated Blaze had realised what it meant. The baby was moving inside her, she’d felt their first touch.
Silver’s eyes had opened wide, “Did you feel that?” He half whispered.
No, they had felt their first touch. This was the quickening, the first tangible sign of life.
She managed a nod in response, her purring grew louder still as she shifted her hands from him and to her sides. Silver dropped back to his knees, returning to eye level with her swollen belly. Ever so gently, he returned his second hand to her form just in time for another flutter, “I-Is that what I think it is? They’re…”
“Y-Yes, I think they’re kicking,” She managed to stutter, closing her eyes in an attempt to focus on the sensation.
This was the first real sign, their child’s first real impact on their world. It’d been clear that they were there for a handful of months now, but they’d never acted; simply grown and waited. This was entirely new; excitement coursed through Blaze’s veins just as it plainly ran through Silver’s.
“Hey there little one, I’m sorry. Am I taking up too much of mummy’s attention?” He responded to her bump, gently rubbing small circles into her fur, “She’s just too lovely, I can’t help myself.”
Her child’s kicks having alleviated thoughts of silliness or feelings of embarrassment, Blaze also began to talk to the baby, “Or is it that I’m taking up too much of daddy’s time? Keeping him from playing with you,” She felt Silver’s eyes upon her and, emboldened, pushed further, “I did marry him you know; I do want to kiss him from time to time. I hope that won’t be a problem for you...”
Another flutter drummed within the feline; the unborn child could only be voicing their outraged. A snicker breached Silver’s lips and was quickly mirrored on Blaze’s own. Soon they were fully laughing; Blaze’s hands slipped to the pillows in an attempt to steady herself as Silver finally pulled away from her belly.
When she’d finally recovered, the hedgehog managed to respond, “I think we might have a problem.”
“Picking favourites already,” The queen jokingly scolded, gently combing through her white fur, “You know, I’m the one carrying you around; he only insists on carrying me because he’s scared that you’re making it hard for me to walk. Your dad can be so overprotective. He’ll go out of his way to solve the smallest of problems, even when there are far more pressing issues,” She was almost chiding him, though she was doing so purposefully, “But I like that about him. He’ll always look out for you, just like I will.”
No further quickening was felt but, in its wake, Blaze couldn’t help identifying a tender calmness that had overcome Silver’s disposition. He managed to make his way back onto the couch beside her, almost dissolving into the floral material.
Bright yellow eyes collided with her amber set, “Did that really just happen?”
“If it’d only been me here, I don’t think I’d have believed it,” Blaze admitted, “I’d have told myself it was something else.”
He was beaming again but the combined endeavours of overly tending her, talking so deeply and observing the phenomena that was his child’s first actions had clearly exhausted him. Reaching just past the book, Blaze drew the chocolate bar and held it out to him. It took no more than a moment for him to understand, lean in and bite off the top square. As Blaze claimed a little more for herself, a blue bioluminescence engulfed the teapot and brought it to pour. The book was flipped open and gentle chatter ballooned to fill their little corner of the library as they shifted ever closer.
They were finally making their own future, no longer struggling to fix other people’s problems. Despite how unreal it all seemed, they were more peaceful than they’d ever had before.
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princesssarcastia · 4 years
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The Morning After aka How To Tell Your Super-Powered Kids You Just Murdered Their Abusive Father
heyo, here it is, in honor of season 2 coming out in *checks watch* like three days!!
the sequel to Reginald Hargreeves Die Challenge, in which Grace cares for her children, considers the unquantifiable elements in the human condition, and struggles to start (and finish) a terrible conversation.
also on AO3, if you’d prefer
_ _ _ _ _ _
Grace tuts at her reflection in passing as she makes her way up the stairs.  Her dress will have to be burned; stains from the ashes at the crematorium liberally speckle the skirt, and she won’t be able to get them out.   And now she has to change first thing, instead of looking in on her children like she normally does before shutting down for the night.
Oh, well.  Some deviations from her routine are to be expected tonight.  In fact, she may have to create a whole new routine, now that Sir Reginald is no longer a factor.  
She shucks off her dress in front of the closet where Sir Reginald stored her accessories and holds it for a moment, considering, before dropping it dismissively in the corner, crumpled.  Her hands run gently over the selection of new outfits, before settling on the sole black article; an A-line tea length hem.
Adhering to cultural rituals, like wearing black after the passing of a loved one or relative, put humans at ease.
With only a few tugs to adjust how the new dress rests on her, Grace pivots and makes her way back down the stairs, toward her children.
Her children.
It’s still a new designation, and something about it is electrifying.
Vanya, dear girl, is soundly asleep; her still form barely rises and falls with each breath.
Ben looks up sheepishly as she enters, setting aside his book and clicking off his bedside light before she even has to ask.  Grace smiles down at him and pulls the covers up around him as he reclines, and he smiles back.
Klaus is sprawled on his back in the center of his bed, snoring loudly; he forgot to shut his lights off again, so Grace turns them off for him.  She leaves his bedsheets twisted at his feet, however.  After the first three times he woke up screaming and tangled in them, some brief research indicated Klaus might be suffering from moderate to severe sleep-related claustrophobia.
It takes almost six minutes to convince Five to leave his calculations for tomorrow, but he relents when she recites research about adequate sleep patterns and their effect on brain development.
Luther asked her to stop tucking him in at night after a few pointed comments from Sir Reginald months ago, so Grace doesn’t enter his room.  Just a quick peek around the corner to make sure he’s in bed, at least.
Diego mumbles when she gently pushes his hair back from his forehead but doesn’t wake.
Allison is sitting in the middle of her bed, arms wrapped around her knees and face tucked away.  Grace steps on the creaky floorboard in the doorway to catch her attention.
Her head whips up.  “Mom?”
Grace instantly considers and discards three different facial expressions before settling on a solemn nod.  “Are you alright, Allison?”
“Mom, what—” her voice cracks.  “Where’s Dad?”
Now, Grace smiles, because she hasn’t considered how to answer that question yet and can’t respond. Her processors whir almost audibly, but it doesn’t—compute.  At last, she says, “Everything is going to be just fine, dear.  Don’t you worry,” and rests a hand on Allison’s cheek.
Her daughter’s eyes widen at the gesture; so rare, but perhaps—perhaps it won’t have to be anymore. She sweeps her thumb across Allison’s skin once, twice, before gently pushing at her shoulders so she lies down.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Allison asks haltingly, as Grace starts to leave. 
Grace pauses, hand on the door.  She blinks several times rapidly, to indicate she’s considering her response.  After a moment, she tilts her head back to Allison and gives her a smaller, warmer smile than the one before.  The smile she only ever gives to them.  “Yes, dear.  I think I’ll be just fine.”
Then she gently pulls the door shut behind her and walks back upstairs to her charging station.
The woman in the gallery painting still looks lonely, but—not as much as she did yesterday.   Grace tries to arrange her limbs like the woman’s, with her arm partially raised, though her expression isn’t quite right.  Her expression is never quite right; never exactly like the woman in the painting.
She shuts down for the night.
A preset alarm in her subroutines pulls her out of charging at six am.  Grace slowly initializes, eyelids dragging open as the cords retract, and takes stock of her systems.  Energy levels below optimal, but that’s to be expected, given she was two hours late to bed last night. 
She’ll have to find help overriding her self-maintenance protocols so she can edit her own code. [priority one] is currently overriding the lesser behavioral instructions, making several of them defunct, and the now-useless code is slowing down her processors.  Grace would like to get rid of them entirely, just to be certain the children are safe.
So many things to do today!
But first, pancakes for her children.
Diego stumbles into the kitchen two minutes after Grace, still yawning and rubbing his eyes. 
Sir Reginald never cared about the children’s activities before breakfast, so long as they were not seen, nor heard, and they all took advantage of this to do different things.  Diego comes to help her make breakfast.  Grace has been teaching him to cook for weeks, now, after he showed some interest in it. If Sir Reginald asked, she would tell him basic chemistry principles illustrated by cooking and baking are a good foundation for later study, but he never did.  The kitchen was never a place he spent much time, after all.
Her son—the possessive is still electrifying this morning—sleepily reaches for the ingredients for oatmeal, their usual weekday breakfast, only to stop and blink as he notices what she has out instead.
“We’re going to make pancakes this morning, Diego,” Grace says with hushed excitement.  Loud noises are uncomfortable so soon after waking.
“But…” Diego starts, then trails off.  His shoulder hunch ever so slightly, indicating he’s uncomfortable with the change in routine.  That’s to be expected, too; but the new routines will be better.
“It’s all right, dear. Look at the recipe, there,” she points, “and help me measure out the dry ingredients.”
And then the kitchen is silent except for his movements and hers, and the low hum of heat from the stove as she melts butter in the skillet, inaudible to human ears but perfectly clear to Grace.
She slides the bowl towards herself when he finishes measuring and deftly cracks the eggs into the bowl, then hands him the shells with a small smile. 
He grins back at her, earlier discomfort forgotten, as he throws the shells across the room to the garbage can in a perfect arc.
Stir in the milk, the oil, careful not to over-mix!, and then she starts pouring batter into the skillet.  Diego starts moving furtively in her peripheral; Grace pointedly keeps her focus on the pan in front of her, allowing him to pull bacon out of the fridge and make it all the way back to the stove before she glances at him.
“W-we need protein, ri-i-i—" he stops with a huff.  Grace waits patiently for him to try again, beaming when he finishes, “Right?”
“I suppose it’s alright for today.”
Grace calculates another twenty seconds before she needs to flip, so she turns and pulls the flat skillet out of the bottom cabinet and sets it on an open burner, cranking the heat all the way up to get it ready.
With one hand, she flips the first pancake, and with the other she peels back the paper on the meat and lines it up, wiping cold grease off on her apron.
“Why don’t you try the next one?” She says when the first pancake is done.  Diego nods seriously, the way he does when Sir Reginald assigns him a task in training.  Grace pauses, then ruffles his hair as they switch places, earning another surprised look from Diego.
Her systems say it’s 6:30 a.m.; the other children will start making their way here in another ten minutes.  Pogo never eats with the children or Sir Reginald, so he won’t come to the kitchen until mid-morning, for tea and toast; by then, Grace will have calculated the best way to break the news to him.
But the children….her processors kick up a notch as she considers the conundrum before her.  When her sensors register the flat skillet has reached 400° F Grace slides the first round of bacon onto it.
She can calculate each of their likely reactions to the news that their father is dead.  Calculating their response to the fact that Grace is the one who removed him requires more data.  And there is the problem of how to tell them.
Saying she killed Sir Reginald because he raised a hand to Allison would be truthful; but it would place a burden on Allison and is not the entire truth. 
The entire truth is that she killed Sir Reginald because she is responsible for protecting them; because he hit them and it wasn’t training; because he ignored them at bedtime; because he trained them to kill other people; because he made them hurt each other; because he sent them to bed exhausted every night and woke them up early; because he didn’t want them to be happy; because he didn’t want them to love each other; because he didn’t let Grace brush hair from their foreheads or kiss their cheeks or read them bedtime stories or make their favorite foods or tell them she—[error] [error] [error] [priority one] [priority one override] —
“Mom, I think the bacon’s done,” Diego says, as he attempts to slide the spatula under his second attempt at a pancake.
Grace smiles at him and keep smiling as she removes the strips and places them on a cloth covered plate.  Another seven slide on easy as you please, the sizzling sound of hot grease rising in the kitchen.
His third pancake is much better than his first and second; he looks up at her hopefully, and Grace knows he is looking for approval.  He often looked at Sir Reginald with the same expression, but Sir Reginald ignored the research on positive reinforcement because he believed it made his soldiers weak.
But Sir Reginald isn’t here anymore.
“Wonderful job, Diego,” she says softly, and starts pulling plates out of the cabinets and silverware out of the drawers and sets it all in stacks on the table because today is Five’s turn to set everything up.
Another round of bacon goes on the skillet, and she sets up a third to speed up the pancakes; they’re going to need a lot more to adequately feed seven growing girls and boys! Her processing attention splits between the food and her calculations about the discussion ahead.
Can Grace…lie to them?
She’s done it before, when Sir Reginald tells her to.  About Vanya’s powers, and about what’s best for their physical, mental, and emotional health.  But given how detrimental most of Sir Reginald’s other actions were to them, Grace determines that lying is unlikely to be the best way to proceed.
The problem is that unfortunate element of unpredictability in human behavior.  Grace is not human, and her children are, and this is limiting. If her children were like her, she could simply transmit her [priority one] and the calculations she made the night before, standing in Sir Reginald’s office and holding his arm in a vise grip.
But they are not, so she cannot. 
And there are no calculable lies with as much supporting evidence in their surroundings and the children’s memories of her and Sir Reginald’s behavior as the truth has. 
There are myriad possible responses from them.  Anger and violence against her are likely, given the training they have received and the behavior they have observed in their father as a role model.  Relief and dread are also likely, in some of them.
Fear is also a possible response.  Fear of Grace.  Fear that she might kill them the way she killed their father.  That possibility is wrong, it is anathema to her purpose; [priority one] forbids it.  And even if it didn’t, she—she—[error]
Five teleports into the room behind them and moves to start putting together place settings, but when the smell of bacon and pancakes registers, he stops, and frowns.
“Why are you making that? It’s Thursday, we eat oatmeal on Thursdays.”
Grace slides the last set of bacon from the skillet and turns off the burner.  “Today is an unusual day, Five.  We’ll discuss it when the rest of your siblings arrive.  Now, finish setting the table, please.”
What if they decide to shut Grace down?  Then there will be no one to care for the children, they will be alone.  Would they call the local authorities to be placed in foster care?
Sir Reginald was never this hard to predict.  And even the children were easier to calculate when he was alive, because certain behaviors were infinitely more likely and unlikely in his presence.  But Grace is still certain her logic last night was sound; his death was the only way to protect them.   She will simply have to protect them no matter what their response is.  No matter if they are angry at her or scared of her or try to shut her off.
That’s what mothers are supposed to do.  That’s what fathers are supposed to do, too.
She and Diego finish the last of the batter.  He takes the towering, wobbly stack of pancakes to the table in slow steps to maintain its balance.
“Five, get the glasses, please,” she calls over her shoulder as she pulls milk and orange juice out of the fridge and brings them to the table.  Five teleports onto the counter to get them, and then teleports back across the room to set them down.
Grace considers scolding him, but his feet are bare, still in his pajamas as he is, and the counter was clean.  And he was doing as she asked without complaint. 
Klaus and Ben clatter into the kitchen and the noise level in the room raises to 85 decibels.
They, too, come to a halt when they see what Grace and Diego have made for breakfast this morning, but then Klaus turns to look at her more fully. 
“Whoa, Mom, what the hell are you wearing?” Klaus says.  “You never wear anything that isn’t a color.”
“Oh, well,” Grace looks down and runs her hands along the side seams, making infinitesimal adjustments, “I thought it was appropriate today.”
Klaus’ nose wrinkles in confusion, and Five raises an eyebrow at her, taking in the new data and, Grace decides, most likely trying to figure out what’s happening before she tells them.  It’s something he does with Sir Reginald, as well; as part of his situational awareness training, and also outside of his training, as a way to elicit a negative emotional response.
Grace calculates the likelihood of him succeeding today at 17% currently, though that number will rise with more time and data.  Unless he has spoken to Allison and she told him what happened last night, but that seems even less likely.
Vanya enters and slips into her seat at the head of the table so quietly the others don’t notice right away, but Grace tilts her head to catch Vanya’s eyes and smiles widely. Vanya blinks and gives a little wave in response.
Quiet chatter between them fills the kitchen as Five finishes setting places, and the others make it to their assigned seats.  Allison and Luther enter together, at the very last minute before they are due.  She gives Luther a cursory examination, and he appears puzzled with Allison, who is as tense as she was last night.  When she catches sight of Grace, standing with her hands folded at her waist, she freezes.
“Allison,” Grace says warmly, “how are you this morning?”
“Um.  Alright,” she says hesitantly.
After they both sit, Grace follows suit, settling at the other end opposite Vanya, and her children all send her various quizzical looks.  Five takes her presence at the table, when she normally cleans the kitchen while they eat breakfast, as another clue, but his expression is missing that triumphant edge he gets when he’s figured something out.
“Well,” Grace starts, smile wide.  “I hope you all slept well.”
Klaus reaches for his silverware and starts serving himself, affecting unconcern, but Grace can see the hesitation in his shoulders.  When Grace says nothing, the others all follow suit, carefully taking food and placing it on their plates.
She knows their tension is because she has altered their routine; her research indicates that children who have been—abused, by men like Sir Reginald, find comfort in routines.  But this change today is necessary.
“There will be some necessary changes in your routines starting today,” Grace continues, circling around why to get to what instead.  “All meals will be held in the kitchen until further notice.  Your training and classes will be different, too.”
None of them say a word against the idea, keeping their gazes locked on their plates as they eat, because they don’t yet realize she isn’t a mouthpiece for their father anymore. His authority is unassailable.  Grace’s is not.
“And,” she hesitates, “Sir Reginald will not be—here.  To oversee it.”
Now they look up.  “Really?”  Klaus asks excitedly, as Five’s eyes narrow at her, that much closer to working it out. Vanya simply blinks, but her brow is slightly furrowed; Ben has stilled, his hands halfway between his plate and his mouth.  Diego fidgets, pulling one of his knives from his sleeve and flipping it into the air. Allison’s expression indicates she is nauseated. 
Luther frowns.
“Why won’t father be here? Did,” his eyes glimmer, “did we do something wrong?”
“No,” Grace says firmly. “None of you did anything wrong.”
“Are we being punished?”
“It’s not a punishment.”
“Where is he?”  Ben asks.  “If he’s not going to be here, then, where is he?”
Grace is certain the correct answer is not, ‘scattered in ashes along the riverbed’, no matter that it is the truth, but she still doesn’t quite understand how to put it so they will understand.
“Is it because of what happened last night?”  Allison asks, one of her hands coming up to trace the side of her face.  The exact spot, Grace calculates, where Sir Reginald would have struck her if Grace had allowed it.
“What happened last night?” Five demands, leaning across the table toward Allison.
Allison darts a glance at Grace, then Luther.  “I—I was angry that he wouldn’t say goodnight to us.  So, when you all left, I,” she lowers her head, “I tried to rumor him.”
The table erupts, all of them making noise at once.  Klaus and Diego appear impressed, the former even reaching across to proffer his hand for a high-five; Vanya’s eyes go wide, and she grips her own arms, whispering, “You’re not supposed to use your powers on him;” Ben and Five exchange a glance and then look to Grace; Luther’s frown deepens into outrage as he says, “Allison, how could you?  You know he just doesn’t have time for stupid stuff like bedtimes.”
They all start to talk over one another, except for Allison who pales, indicating a loss of blood flow to her face, and Five, who is still looking at Grace.
Finally, before Grace can even attempt to regain their attention, Five cuts through the noise.  “And then what happened?”
Allison’s throat moves as she swallows.  “Um.” She rubs her face again, and Five’s expression changes, as does Klaus’.  “He tried to hit me,” her voice falls quieter with every word.  Luther seems more upset, now, as does Vanya.
“Tried?” Five prompts when she doesn’t say anything else.
Allison shifts in her seat, and Grace cuts in, sensing her discomfort.  “I caught his hand before he did and sent Allison to bed.”
“Holy shit,” Klaus breathes.
“Language,” Grace admonishes, gently, and he mumbles an apology.
“But…” Luther starts again, eyes darting from face to face, “Why would you do that?  What does that have to do with Dad not being here anymore?”
“Fathers aren’t supposed to hit their children,” Grace says evenly.
“But Allison was trying to rumor him!”
“That doesn’t make it right.”  Grace sees his confusion, still, and tries to explain.  “Fathers are supposed to be,” she tries to quantify love and devotion and care and attention, “kind.”  Thinks further, about training and hitting and bruises and blood.  “They’re supposed to protect their children.”  Thinks about disappointed faces at bedtime, and silent meals, and ignored questions, and continues, “They’re supposed to raise their children.
“Sir Reginald was not kind to you all, and he did not protect you.  I think,” Grace looks at them, meeting their eyes as a way to emphasize her seriousness, “that he hurt you all a great deal.  My function as your mother is to protect you, even from Sir Reginald.”
All seven of her children have fallen utterly still, eyes trained on her in complete silence, and shock, and, in Five’s case, as his gaze darts to her black dress and back to her face, realization.  His face pales even more drastically than Allison’s had, two minutes ago.
“What happened to Dad?” Luther asks, his voice breaking in the middle, and some line of code or processor or something in Grace malfunctions, if only for a moment, to hear him make that sound.
“Luther,” Five says, and Ben and Diego look at him.
“What happened to Dad?” Luther says, louder this time.  “What happened to him?  Tell me!” He shouts and stands up from the table, his warped silverware clattering onto the table.
Grace stands as well and starts to make her way around the table toward Luther, ignoring Diego’s, “Mom, what—” and Five’s, “Luther!” so she can give Luther her full attention
“Where’s our Dad?” Luther screams in her face as she reaches him and grabs her arm and starts squeezing.  “Tell me, tell me where he is!”
“Luther, darling,” Grace says, and does nothing to stop him, “he’s gone.  Sir Reginald is—your father is gone.”
His chest rises and falls rapidly, much faster than is optimal; Grace calculates he’ll start to hyperventilate in another twenty seconds if he continues.  “What did you do?”  He cries, and his voice breaks again, and Grace senses something in her malfunction again.
The plating on her arm is sending out alerts that it will become compromised if the current pressure continues.  Luther’s knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on her arm.
“I calculated the best way to keep you all safe,” Grace says calmly, shaking her head at Diego when he moves to intervene.  All of the children have risen, now.   “Sir Reginald could not be allowed to hurt you anymore.  The authorities would have been unable to apprehend him, and he would not have stopped treating you the way he did.”
“Mom,” Diego whispers, but she doesn’t look away from Luther, who tightens his grip again and cracks the outer casing on her arm with a loud noise.  The others jolt in place, but Luther keeps breathing rapidly and starts to cry.
“Your father is dead, Luther,” Grace says at last.  For all her calculations, and study of human behavior, there is no other way to say this than plainly.  “I killed him.”
He lets loose a harsh, broken cry, and Grace catalogues it as the most human sound she’s ever heard. Unquantifiable.
Now, she raises her free hand to cup the side of Luther’s face, lets her thumb sweep across his cheek in a soothing gesture for the first time in his life.  His expression crumples and he lets out another shout as tears begin to leak from his eyes, and Grace catches one and smooths it away.  “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“How could you?”  Luther jerks away from her hand and releases her arm, stumbling backwards into the kitchen table.  Plates and silverware rattle and shift, and some of the milk and juice sloshes over the sides of their glasses and onto the wood.
“Luther,” Five says again, the pitch of his voice much lower, making his way around to his brother. Allison steps into him, too, and the pair of them clutch at Luther until he grabs back, much more gently than he had Grace.
None of them take their eyes off Grace for more than a few seconds at a time, a kind of watchfulness they had previously only reserved for Sir Reginald.  Grace reviews her earlier calculations on fear being part of their reaction to the news and lets it go.
The news has hurt them, she realizes suddenly; all of them, she recognizes as she turns to see all of them at once.  Even if it was for the best, Grace has—hurt her children.  And that means that she has failed to uphold her protocol today.
Diego reaches out to her and Grace automatically reaches back, will always automatically reach back to her children now that she will be allowed, and wraps her arms around him, careful to avoid getting the leaking oil from her broken casing on his pajamas.
“Mom,” he says, looking up at her as he hugs her middle, “are you okay?”
“Of course, dear,” she smiles down at him and squeezes him, gently.  “Are you okay, Diego?”
“I thi-i-ink so,” Diego says forcefully, and then sniffles.  “Is Si-i-r Reginald really gone?”
“Yes,” she says softly.
Klaus and Ben are looking at each other while Five and Allison still do their best to comfort Luther. Vanya stands listlessly by her seat with an uncertain expression.  Grace can read grief and fear in all of their faces and bodies, and anger.
Part of her programming tries to override her current actions and offer solutions to their feelings: encourage them to finish breakfast, make cookies, soothe and console and make sure they’re all right until the hurt fades and Grace is no longer paining them simply by existing.
But her knowledge of human behavior, and of these seven in particular, allows her to determine that those actions are unlikely to be successful.  Her children will continue to be in pain, and there is very little Grace can do to fix it.  
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adhd-wifi · 4 years
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Jiang Cheng’s Deepest Personal Struggles 
I spent more time on the title than I did the actual post. 
Note: Wei WuXian is also very present in this meta, because Jiang Cheng’s entire story and development is so heavily tied to him that you literally cannot separate Wei Ying from him. And I thought Lan Zhan was bad. 
Personally, I find Jiang Cheng’s traumas and internalized issues so much more interesting than his siblings’. Wei WuXian’s issues were much more dramatic and intense, but not uncommon in fiction, while Jiang YanLi’s issues were not explored in canon. With Jiang Cheng, we see so much of his development and how it is mostly negative in nature. However, even though Jiang Cheng’s development is negative more than positive, it’s very interesting to see how it affected him and how he does maintain his old personality even despite what he’s been through, which makes him the most realistic character out of the three siblings in my opinion. 
In other words, I fucking love Jiang Cheng as a character so fucking much even though there are times in which I would gladly throw a book in his face and if you tell me he’s a badly written character I will break into your home at 4am on a Tuesday night and rearrange all your furniture before stealing all your spoons and leave a 27-page essay on why you’re wrong in their place. 
(I won’t actually do that. I’m lazy. But not lazy enough to not write this long ass post I guess.)
So Jiang Cheng’s issues are extremely obvious to us, the audience, even more than WWX’s, despite WWX being the POV character. (This is probably due to WWX being a bit of an unreliable narrator, ignoring his own problems for JC’s sake, but we’ll get to that in another WWX post.) 
We know the main problem is how he was raised, with JFM and YZY as parents. Between the two, we see that JFM’s neglect and favouritism towards WWX was actually much more impactful and damaging to him than anything from YZY. JC wanted his father’s approval and love, and while YZY berated him for being worse than WWX, JC at least felt like his mother cared about him in some way. YZY’s abuse was still extremely damaging of course, and she definitely contributed to JC’s problems by constantly yelling about how JFM cared more about WWX in front of JC. Still, the main problem was this: JC felt like he wasn’t loved by his own father, and then felt like his mother spent more time being angry at WWX than caring for him. 
WWX and JYL also weren’t as there for him as they maybe should’ve. Yes, they actively showed more love and support to JC than their parents did, but the problem between the siblings is that WWX and JYL were unable to give JC what he specifically needed, and also JC lacked the communication skills to tell them what he needed. Of course, this is none of their faults. The three of them were raised under the same abusive parents and all had their own ways of coping with their traumas, as I’ve mentioned in my previous posts (WWX version, JYL version). Something both WWX and JYL had in common despite their difference in character and responses was that they tended to internalize things and smooth out the conflict present in their family, but while JC did also internalize things, this coping response didn’t work for him as it did with his siblings (well, it’s not that great, but they don’t struggle with it the way JC does). When you realize that both WWX and JYL are more reflective of JFM’s nature, but JC is closer to YZY instead, it makes sense. Like his mother, JC is someone who needs to vent and get his emotions out, but he doesn’t get that chance. Or rather, he FEELS like he can’t, because no one else does except YZY, and YZY isn’t exactly a prime example of healthy venting (Pls Madam Yu your children are crying.) It’s hard to talk about JC without bringing up how he compares to others, especially WWX, since that is the core of his problems and insecurities in the first place. So let’s talk about that. 
JC’s competitive nature is mostly the result of his abusive home, but also because he’s the youngest sibling. Youngest siblings in general tend to be taken less seriously than their older siblings and thus often end up with the need to prove themselves more. This, combined with his parents’ lousy parenting, just made a recipe for a self-esteem disaster that blames others over himself. In WWX’s case, his self-esteem problems are “I’m the burden, I’m to blame”. In JC’s case, the problems are “They keep comparing me to others, I’m not as good as they are”. So, with JFM seeming like he doesn’t love JC (at least not as much as WWX), and YZY always berating him for not being as good as WWX, it’s really hard to fault JC for having an inherent idea of “WWX is to blame for his suffering”. 
Despite this, JC had also actively spent his life fighting this idea of his. He loved WWX and very rarely let his jealously show at all. Even during the time WWX had been recovering from fighting the XuanWu, and JC was angry and frustrated at his parents fighting in front of them all again, and voiced his concerns about how his father didn’t like him or his mother, leading to WWX comforting him and making the promise he would eventually break (along with my heart but it’s okay I didn’t need it anyway ;-;). This is after JC walked from Qishan all the way back to Lotus Pier without stopping, desperate to save WWX as fast as possible. With his inherent idea of blaming WWX for his problems, on top of not being recognized for such a valiant effort for his brother, JC was in the perfect position to take it out on WWX. But he never actually said it was WWX’s fault, even though we knew he believed it at the time. Yes, he blatantly told WWX that he was upset about his efforts being ignored, but JC’s wording at the time didn’t contain a single line of actual blame towards WWX. (WWX probably heard it different, but those are his problems, not JC’s.) Considering JC is someone who doesn’t think about his words when he’s angry or frustrated, it says a lot about just how much he tries NOT to blame WWX, because he still truly, genuinely loved his brother. As children, JYL told WWX that JC was secretly very happy to have a new companion, even though WWX was the reason for his dogs being taken away. And then we see baby JC crying about being unable to find WWX when he tells him to go away. Yes, there’s probably some fear of punishment from JFM, but if that was the only thing he feared, baby JC didn’t have to promise to chase dogs away to protect WWX for the rest of their lives together. JC loved WWX just as much as WWX loved him, he just has a very, very different love language from his brother. 
And then...the fall of Lotus Pier happened. And all of that came crashing down, burning away along with their home. JC finally blamed WWX for what had happened, years and years of pent-up, painstakingly internalized jealously and blame exploding at once. Because no matter what WWX did before, no matter how much trouble WWX caused before, it never cost them THIS much. WWX coming into their lives had never been any REAL trouble, and JC had been able to forgive everything else, because he loved WWX, and because WWX kept him from being lonely. But now his parents, who he desperately wanted the love from, were gone. His home was gone. WWX kept him from running in and taking revenge. WWX was the only person there when he let his emotions take over, and WWX happened to be someone he could blame. So what else could JC do but blame him? 
“If WWX hadn’t saved Lan WangJi, if WWX hadn’t provoked Wen Chao, if WWX hadn’t won the archery competition, if WWX hadn’t come into their lives...”
JC’s default response to grief and trauma is anger fused with bargaining. He finds blame in someone or something and focuses on the “What-Ifs”, because that’s what he was raised on. That’s just what he was used to, because JC could never vent like he needed to. WWX and JYL, his only real sources of comfort, never truly listened when he did actually say something. WWX would tell him “You’re better than you think”, while JYL would tell him “That’s how things are, but don’t worry”. While these were said and done out of good intentions, JC’s needs are never really met or even fully acknowledged. No one addresses or even really listens to what causes the problems, often knowing the cause but almost blatantly refusing to really talk about it. Again, this isn’t their fault. Both older siblings had their own coping mechanisms that clashed with JC’s, and their entire family have CLEARLY never been taught proper communication skills, so no one really knew how to communicate in the way they needed to. However, it’s still true that this affected JC the most, given his character. He NEEDED someone to listen to him, he NEEDED the validation that his feelings and person mattered, but he never got it. 
And yet...the sad thing about this was that JC himself clearly gave up on trying ti get it himself after Lotus Pier was gone. He let his emotions rule him, seeking revenge against the Wens with every intention of slaughtering them as they did his family during the Sunshot Campaign. We see his loss of morality and hypocrisy when he shows how he was perfectly willing to let WWX, as the Yiling Patriarch, stay by his side as long as he was the enemy of the Wens despite how much he used to be against WWX using resentful energy. We see the innocent child who had only wanted the love and approval of his family become a vengeful man burdened with trauma and the responsibilities of a Sect Leader at too young an age during a time of war.
JC was clearly traumatized by Lotus Pier, and to me, it seemed that he had manifested a fear of seeing his home fall a second time. We see this especially in his passiveness towards the other sects when he was put on the spot during the times WWX “caused trouble” as the Yiling Patriarch, and how much more reactive and unstable he was when talking to WWX before WWX decided to leave the sect. JC had been desperate to keep things stable, safe, that he was willing to abandon the debt he owed towards Wen Qing and Wen Ning. He didn’t want to make enemies of the other sects, because his family and old home were gone. When WWX brought up JFM’s teachings, JC was obviously really affected by it, and I think that’s why he accepted WWX’s duel right then. 
One thing I would like to say is this: At this point in their relationship, WWX absolutely wronged JC. Yes, it’s fully understandable why WWX did so, with his horrible misplaced guilt and unwillingness to drag JC into his choices any longer. But JC didn’t deserve this. He reacted badly to WWX after Lotus Pier, but we know for a fact that he was overwhelmed with grief and pain when he did, but despite how much he’d changed, it’s obvious that JC still loved WWX (still should’ve apologised tho). JC didn’t need to try and protect WWX, but he did. Some might argue that he did it for JYL’s sake or to keep power, but I doubt that. If that was the case, he wouldn’t have argued with WWX the way he did, screaming “I won’t be able to protect you!” if he only wanted WWX around for power or for JYL. JC did try, but WWX didn’t. WWX saw their relationship as a debt he owed to JFM and the Sect, and with the transfer of the golden core, he saw that debt repaid. Not once, however, did WWX truly consider JC’s feelings about it, too caught up in his own guilt and thus deciding what he thought was best for his brother. Again, it’s understandable, given what he’s been through. But after the war, WWX was definitely the main reason they fall apart, not JC. Not the mention the whole golden core transfer itself. WWX made the decision for JC, then refused to tell him and let his little brother abuse him as YZY did until they finally separated, WWX willingly breaking the promise he made to JC himself. WWX didn’t even try to reconnect, using the excuse of “the Wens needing him more”. Can you imagine how that must have felt for JC? He didn’t know what WWX did for him, so to him, he could only see his brother abandoning him for almost no reason. WWX was his closest companion his whole life, as well as the person who shaped him the most throughout his childhood. His life and character were dependant on WWX, both positively and negatively. WWX could live without JC, but JC couldn’t live without WWX, and he knew that. 
When JYL died, the trauma of Lotus Pier returned, and once again, JC was consumed by grief. So he did the exact same thing he did back then: Blame WWX. And this time, he no longer had a good reason to give WWX leniency. After all, WWX pushed him away. WWX didn’t care about him. WWX chose the Wens, strangers, over him. WWX neglected him just as his own father did. JC’s complicated feelings towards his beloved brother had finally morphed into hatred, and WWX had let it happen. So WWX died, and JC no longer had a physical target to blame. But he needed something, someone, to blame, because that’s how he copes. It’s unhealthy, it’s damaging, it’s cruel, but it’s his coping mechanism. It’s the only way he knows how to deal with things because he never had a single chance to learn to cope in any other way. Thus, he hunted demonic cultivators and tortured them, but his hatred could never be resolved because he would never be able to receive the closure he desperately needed. 
Then WWX came back, and JC learned about the golden core transfer. 
If you’ve ever had someone sacrificing their time for you without needing to, for example a friend staying up for three days straight to finish a birthday present on time while on a busy and hectic schedule, you’d probably know the momentary guilt of “OMG you didn’t have to do that!” while being grateful to them. Now imagine that guilt times almost 20 years of hating the person who did something so selfless for you while also knowing you mistreated them for a portion of that time. JC was absolutely devastated to know what WWX did for him, because what the hell, the man he hated and blamed, the man who pushed him away and abandoned him for a bunch of strangers from a sect that destroyed their first home, did something that was essentially cultivator’s suicide? For his sake? Because he actually cared for JC despite everything he did? But also, with WWX’s core instead of his own, didn’t it also mean that he was still Not-As-Good as WWX, because he never truly achieved anything great without WWX’s help in some way? The main, EXACT, cause of his insecurities and problems in the first place? Bruh I can’t blame him for having an existential crisis here. I really can’t.
At GuanYin Temple (admittedly I’m basing this off CQL cuz I haven’t gotten there in any other adaption so I don’t know if this scene actually took place there or not), when JC shouted at WWX for everything, JC was finally given a chance to properly vent and finally have someone listen. Yes, WWX being shouted at isn’t favourable, but honestly, I think WWX truly deserved it from JC here. JC was finally able to say things against WWX to WWX’s face, and most importantly, have the last person he grew up with that he used to truly love and treasure tell him his feelings were valid. But even with this, I still find it fully believable and probably even narratively better that JC and WWX never fully resolved their relationship (as much as I want them too, for my heart’s sake) by the end of the story. Because even knowing what WWX did for him, honestly, how on earth could JC trust him again? JC was too hurt for too long, and besides, they were incompatible in the first place. WWX and JC’s personalities and coping mechanisms and all that simply clashed with each other too much for them to go back to being brothers like they used to be. But at least there’s now closure between the two, and Jiang Cheng might be able to finally move on from the past he’s trapped in.
Like I said in the beginning, I find Jiang Cheng the most interesting as a CHARACTER out of the Yunmeng Siblings, and I haven’t even finished what I wanted to talk about with him. Gonna do a post next time about his relationships with others aside from WWX, specifically with Jin Ling probably. Also I don’t actually think Jiang Cheng was neurodivergent to begin with, but that’s also another post all on its own. Anyways I hope y’all survived this long ass post LMAO. 
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ratsoh-writes · 3 years
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My curiosity got me, so here is my submission for a match up.  Sorry it’s so long!  I look forward to seeing your reasoning.
PERSONALITY TRAITS:
MOM FRIEND:  I’m the friend that is almost over prepared for any situation and is protective, usually keeping others out of too much trouble or danger, but not stopping them from doing that stupid thing.  Some people will only learn from doing it and so long as it won’t seriously injure or kill them, go for it.  And I mean I am seriously prepared for most situations:  I have fluffy throw blankets and pillows in my car for those who get cold, extra towels just in case we somehow get wet, umbrellas/ponchos for those who need one, snacks/water just in case someone gets hungry/thirsty, first aid kit for small injuries, etc. Ironically, I am the only one without a kid so far.  
Extension of this would be my habit to act as the friend “nurse.”  Willing to spend hours taking care of a friend who isn’t feeling well and give platonic cuddles if needed.
Another extension of this is my need to feed anyone who comes over.  I think my love language is acts of service after typing all this. 
I’M LISTENING:  Always willing to offer an ear, even if I don’t believe I can council you.  Plus, for some reason, people just end up splurging life stories or something that is bothering them to me.  My life is mostly spent as that Naruto meme: “I have no clue what is going on, but I’ll pretend that I do.”  But I’m responsible about it, I won’t offer advice I’m not sure about and will usually refer you to someone else I feel is up to the task.
PATIENT:  Earned after years in customer service dealing with toddlers disguised as customers and also with friends who far exceed my energy levels.  It takes a good bit to anger me or very specific things to set me off, such as when I have asked you to please stop bringing up that stressful memory of mine again and again. 
I am told I am terrifying when I’m actually pissed.  Most times I don’t remember much when I actually snap, just that it happened, but details are fuzzy.  
CHILL:  My counselor once told me if I “Was any more laid back, I’d be on her floor.” And to a point, she is correct.  My house was on fire and my reaction wasn’t panic at the time, it was this odd calm that even when I reported the fire to my sister and authorities, they didn’t believe me until I showed them said fire.  I am reserved with those I don’t know well or are not comfortable around.  Once I trust you or you get me on a topic I love, I’m surprisingly passionate and animated.  
I feel this fits under here, but I also tend to do things at my own pace.  And not much can change that pace, but I will get what I set out to do done.
WHY ME?:  Too many people tell me I’m a natural leader, even got awards for it, but I never volunteer or want to be the leader in anything.  Usually, I just end up in that role somehow, some way.  Most times because I hate disorganized messes and those times the people I am with have trouble making concrete decisions and need some guidance to work out what they really want to do or the pressure to actually make a decision.  I may be an unwilling leader, but I will step up if needed.
WHIMSICAL:  Sarcasm, dry and sometimes cheesy humour, and an attitude to boot, but it’s rarely to be mean.  Most times it is me being playful and if I’m teasing you, that usually is a sign I like you and enjoy your company.  Plus, sometimes people need a little laugh or a spark of different emotion to get them out of a funk.  
INTEGRITY:  I could absolutely despise someone, but like hell I’m going watch them suffer.  In the same sense, if I take a job, I will do it right and not half ass it.  And far too many times I’ve had to step in and explain certain concepts in order to disperse negativity or help others see from another perspective to avoid adversity.  
CUDDLE BUG:  With people I am comfortable with, I am a cuddly person and do not mind a lot of skinship.  I am used to friends hanging all over me.  Plus, sometimes I just want to curl up someone as well.  
  STRENGTHS:  
Observant
Good communication skills & honest
Responsible & reliable
Full Size Human Heater.  I am ridiculously warm and always putting off heat.  Friends and coworkers alike use me as a portable heater.
Surprisingly good at being sly and collecting information if needed, like getting a shoe or ring size without tipping the person off it’s for a gift.  If they manage to call it, I always fess up and playfully make a fuss they ruined the surprise.
  WEAKNESSES:  
Terrible at lying, so I tend to simply keep my mouth shut instead
Willfully oblivious to flirting and absolute flustered mess once I am forced to recognize said flirting
Vast open waters terrify me
Tendency to keep my troubles to myself and try to solve problems on my own (don’t want to be a burden)
Can become despondent if I feel useless at times
  HOBBIES:
ART:  I’ve dabbled in several different medias, but my favorite is just a pencil or pen and any paper I can get my hands on.  I love drawing figures in dynamic poses.  Second favorite is sculptures built from wire.
COSTUMES:  I love Halloween, since it is the perfect excuse to make and wear my homemade costumes.  It also lets me challenge myself by making more complicated pieces like hooves, horns, and even chain mail.
BAKING/COOKING/CANDY MAKING:  I’m the cook in the house and I love it.  Seeing people enjoy my food is my favorite part.  Just don’t ask me for a recipe, I literally don’t have any and I won’t remember what I did.  
ORGANIZING/CLEANING:  I love puzzle games like Tetris and Catherine, and I love a challenge.  Combine the two by having me organize and rearrange a space to make it work and I am in heaven.
STORYTELLING:  When a story needs to be told, I am the one asked to tell it. Specifically I have such an entertaining way of telling it according to others.  Animated and colorful language, plus a few pit stops along the way with some side stories.  
  PET PEEVES:
CONTRARY:  Do not tell me to do something while I am doing it.  That will kill any motivation I had to do it.
BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS:  It is possible to compliment someone without insulting them or others at the same time.  It just makes the compliment feel empty and negative.  And I tend to just hum and not reward that behaviour.  
TOO MUCH ATTENTION:  I don’t mind attention… from people I trust and are comfortable with.  Feel free to cuddle and coddle away.  But vast amounts of attention from those I feel are strangers or acquaintances will unnerve me (I have literally left functions immediately  where I walked in and was bombarded with shouts and attention aimed at me-sensory overload I guess).
  ODD HABITS:
NESTING:  No, I don’t think I have enough blankets and pillows.  Yes, the giant stuffed animal is needed and his name is Snuffie.  
CRUSH ME:  I’m serious, some days I need one of my friends or my bf to just lay all their dead weight on top of me.  It’s just oddly therapeutic.
NO, I’M NOT PREGNANT:  Just cause I ate that jar of olives in one sitting or suddenly was craving jalapeno juice and crushed ramen noodles.  There are never enough pickles and yes, I am determined to try every kind–I may have a vinegar addiction.
IRONY:  I bake some of the tastiest, sweetest desserts and make pralines and caramels, YET I myself do not favor sweet things. 
HANDS:  One thing I tended to do with nearly every boyfriend and guy friend I had was play with their hands and put their hands on my face/head.  I lived for being pet and having people play with my hair.    
NONVERBAL MOMENTS:  Sometimes words are just too much, so I instead make sounds.  Can be anywhere from a growl to a cat like noise, or the reliable “Nyeh.”
NO NOs:
I think I listed a few as I went through everything else, but ignoring boundaries is the main one.  If I tell you I’m not comfortable with something, do not make me repeat myself.  And usually that something is given a pass the first few times it is done before I say something and explain why I’m not comfortable with it.   
Example:  I have thick, curly hair, a product of my mixed heritage.  Well, sometimes I like to straighten it and I did just that one day.  Well, a coworker decided to make a backhanded compliment, stating I should stick to what works: straight hair over my natural hair.  I had gotten on him about it, but I decided to vent to a friend about what happened as well.  She proceeded to constantly repeat those hurtful words and while I knew she meant it playfully during those times, I had to stop her and sit her down, explain I don’t find it funny cause the words are linked to a hurtful, possibly racist memory that I didn’t want brought up again and again.   Thankfully she understood and stopped.  So, I don’t snap immediately and I understand sometimes a sit down needs to be done.
Ok first of all I gotta say that I absolutely loved reading your matchup!!! It’s so well organized, detailed, and the descriptions are pretty creative!!! Do you do any writing yourself, because you should!!! alright, geek out moment over.
i’ve got three guys you’re perfect for, but let’s go for the obvious one. HONEY!! 
You’ve checked off everything on honey’s list: caring, organized, laid back, and good for cuddling. Now here’s what he has to offer to the table: he will cuddle you back. This guy is the ultimate cuddle slut. You’ll never feel unloved with him. Honey is also a very thoughtful and appreciative guy. He likes caring for his partners. You may be the mom friend, but he’ll do his best to return that love as well.
Honey is a little awkward, but he’s also sensitive and empathetic to how others feel. If he puts his foot in his mouth, just tell him and he’ll never bring it up again. Plus this guy is just so honest and genuine that backhanded compliments aren't really a thing with him. 
Also you like costumes!!! He’s always wanted to try cosplay or theatre. You just might be the person to give him the courage to finally stick to one. 
dating honey includes:
cuddles upon heaps of soft things. He has his own collections of ridiculously soft blankets and pillows that he’ll happily add to your collection. Honey is also a master at pillow forts. 
honey is a good listener. He’ll be happy to just sit back and enjoy the stories you tell. There is start though, who is also the storyteller of the underswap home. Any funny story you give about your time together will be rewarded by star with a funny story from his and honey’s childhood, much to honey’s embarrassment
if you don't really like sweet things but love baking them, then honey and star will happily finish them for you. People are usually surprised about how just how much skeleton monsters can pack away. 
he’s a picky eater and will give you the wtf face when you fufil your weird cravings though lol 
Oh! Also if you’re wondering, the other two would’ve been either oak or coffee
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blankdblank · 4 years
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My Pearl Pt 15
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Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 -
Books. Every time you turned around you seemed to be hounded by them. Finally Irime had gotten the final copy detailed to how you all agreed and Fëanor had helped to perfect the descriptions of each marking him as a co-author. They were branded as your recipes with a professional’s review on each making the book all the more interesting to readers when the first few sample pages were released and his comments on how appalling it all looked compared to how it tasted hypes the dishes up even more.
Officially you had been Thorin’s partner for five months now since your verbal flub and together your cooking teams had turned the Dwarven dining experience on its ear with how the Stone had blended. Now regulars were sampling from both menus same as the newcomers who some had even been steered away from your dish they had aches to try for a more appealing Dwarven classic, and everyone seemed to love everything about the change. Your spots on the weekly shows had brought on more fan mail and amped up the competitions between your rivaling teams making the fans love it even more.
This week however, after your last week where you sluggishly made it through your shift at the Stone, a much needed vacation was scored for you. Thorin would have to work through most of your first week but then he had plans to let you rest up those days and hoped the trip you could take would help to shake your weariness off you. They all had their own slumps that’s why every few months they set up vacation times for each of the team on rotations to prevent anyone from overworking themselves. It was advertised as usual and no complaints were had.
.
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“How did you do that?” Thorin hummed smoothing up against your back with hands easing around your hips. It had been a week at least since he’d been able to hungrily pin you down as he used to with the bustle of the new changes to the Stone and your traveling for your book to come out.
“Cook with my eyes closed?”
“Mhmm,” he hummed ghosting his lips across the side of your neck aching to carry you to bed but knowing you needed your rest. So cuddling and holding you close was what he could do as even in your sleep somehow his once comforting warmth had you burning up and sliding away to cool down. You were pushing to hard, they were all pushing you too hard, it was too much to soon and he tried to ease the burden on you only to see your body slump in moments you thought oh were alone aching for relief from something he could not verbalize or was too afraid to. “How ever did you learn that?”
Weakly you giggled and raised a hand turned your head to kiss his forehead revealing your temperature spiking again in his nearness. In his readying to pull back you said, “Culinary school. Eleven ones at least, though my gran had already taught me when I was little so it didn’t take me long.”
Playfully he asked in the smoothing if your hands over his arms in a sigh to stay, “Why would they teach you that?”
“So you can taste the food without eating it.”
“Really?”
With a nod you turned in his arms saying, “I can show you if you like.”
After a low chuckle he shook his head, “I would rather not risk a fire.”
In the smoothing of your hands up his chest he inhaled deeply locking his eyes on yours, “Please? Try it for me?” Again he exhaled in the stroke of your fingers around the name of his neck almost bringing a lustful growl from him, “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“Just this once.” With a smirk you stepped away sliding your hand across his chest in a quick walk to your room leaving him there only to return with a sleeping mask making him roll his eyes in your sliding it in over his face. And in Khuzdul you purred by his ear, “Let me touch you in the most intimate place possible,” inhaling sharply at how deeply your hint of a growl in your timid mastering of his tongue after months of practice he remained focused then smirked at your adding, “In your kitchen.”
One by one you showed him through where the ingredients were and the feel and smell of them all. Touching him just enough to let him know you were still there, easing your hands on and off of his to adjust them when needed but letting his muscle memory handle the rest.
“Now, slice the ginger.” His head turned and you folded your hand over the back of his, he would have felt ridiculous if he didn’t feel so damn connected to you and lulled into a calm state by the sound of your voice. “Your knife is here, you know how to hold it. Now bring it over, elbow to your side and feel the tension in the ginger when you press,” the knife touched the root and sliced through making him wet his lips feeling the distance between the blade and his hand, “And again.” You guided a single sweep to slide it over and slice again before the ginger was traded for peppers and tomatoes completing all the dicing when the list was through.
“Now that your sauce is simmering your chicken.” The sizzle and sound of it sliding onto the pan in your guidance make his hair stand on end in anticipation. He knew how long to cook it all and how it felt so this wasn’t so strange but the scents and sounds were as if it was his first time.
“What about the sauce?”
“Give it time.”
“But-,”
“When you taste apples let me know and you will stir it.”
“Apples?”
“Mhmm. Now the ginger for Elves is quite strong, but to Dwarves it gives it that slight honey taste, and since we have twice as many taste buds as you it’s best to learn in moderation how we season our foods.”
“Okay.” After wetting his lips he said, “I think I should flip it,”
“Not yet,” you said holding his hands in place before his head tilted slightly hearing a soft popping sound making you smirk in your releasing his hand saying, “Now,” and again his hair on his arms stood on end hearing the slide of the spatula and the smooth raise of the chicken breast he flipped over and let sit.
“Apples,” he mumbled having breathed in the taste deeply as you had showed him to breathe through this to help him pick it up quicker.
“Good,” guiding him a step over you swapped his spatula for the large spoon he used to stir the sauce he then added the last of the ingredients you had set out.
The last bit was easy, guiding him to pour the sauce on the plate with the plop of the meat on over it making him pout for a moment knowing the presentation was awful, “Appearance is nothing for your first try, just taste.” His lips parted and he hummed lowly and removed the blindfold to delve into the meal you had helped him make that honestly didn’t look half bad now that he’d tasted it, and most assuredly he would give your lessons another try. But for now you were tired and after a lingering kiss when the dishes were cleared he hummed out, “Come in, to bed, I’ll ravage you in the morning. You need your rest.”
But the ravaging wouldn’t come and there was no ask of how you felt. He knew, you felt awful and it was his fault. He had missed something and couldn’t bear to hear you say he had failed on protecting you from this weariness he had inflicted. So to bed you went sharing another kiss at an arm length apart to grant you some cool air to drift off in and that was it.
*
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Groggily you opened your eyes in the plushy bed a couple feet from Thorin, whose usual body heat painfully proved too much for you lately and sitting up you let out a heavy breath in the tiring task of removing the covers from over you. Completely frozen to the core you sat up somehow coated in dried sweat only to have your eyes drop to your arms that flopped onto your lap. Pale and clammy they lay there with your dark green veins showing all the clearer and yet up near your wrist you gasped in seeing a telling sliver of glowing blue veins in the crease right under your palm. Somehow you managed to get to the bathroom yet your hasty closing of the door made it slam tearing Thorin from his sleep.
“Dearest?” Sitting up he looked around the room seeing your side of the bed stained with sweat and assuming you were getting sick he hopped out crossing the bed to rush to the door. At the wooden barrier he heard the click of the lock, “Jaqi, what’s wrong? Let me in.”
Panting against the door feeling your legs beginning to wobble you replied, “Thorin I need you to get my phone.”
Thorin, “If you need to go to the doctor come out I’ll take you.”
“Thorin, I need you to call Fëanor.”
The rattling of the door made your lip quiver as tears welled up in your eyes at his frantic, “Jaqi, open the door.” Trying to remain calm in his panic of trying to learn what was going on.
“Thorin, my phone…”
“I can call him later. Just-,”
His words cut off at your hand hitting the door weakly, yet with enough force to make it rattle on the frame, “Thorin! Please?!” The ready squeak of your voice rendered him speechless, “You have to get my phone and call Fëanor. Tell him I have Neriama. Please, you can’t waste time in this you have to call him.”
Softly he replied, “Ok.” Turning away he hurried to get your phone and dialed the number returning to the other side of the door, “It’s ringing.” Wetting his lips he waited to hear the answering click then said, “Fëanor you’re on speaker. Jaqi’s locked in the bathroom says she’s got-,”
Through the line he answered for you, “Neriama?”
You weakly answered, “Yes.”
Fëanor, “The girls have it too. Must have passed it on to her. We’ll come and get you and bring you out to Greenwood. Now Thorin, you need to pack a bag for her. And do not get near her. It’s treatable but not for Dwarves. She’s highly contagious and we’ll send a team out to help sanitize your house too.”
Thorin wet his lips, “Take her to greenwood. For how long? If she’s sick I want to be there.”
Feanor said as you lowered to your knees to sit down and conserve your strength. “Thorin it’s only a week, possibly two. But you can’t be near her or she could kill you. Trust me we’ll take care of her.”
He had no choice, he had to let you go and his last glimpse of you was in Amrod’s car from a distance. His eyes lingering on the glowing pale blue veins in your face and orange tear streaks from your now bright green eyes down your clammy blotchy cheeks with a mask Celegorm had brought for you. Stuck outside while his house was being scrubbed talking to Caranthir, who would be helping to finish your tasks at the Stone today calming him as he shared how common this was for Elves under their first thousand year birthday. The car pulled away and he signed again for you to call him when you got settled in earning a nod and a wave from you.
.
All the way to Greenwood you were flown on a waiting emergency jet packed with supplies for emergency cases like this you and your three nieces were spread out in lying still after falling asleep due to the first bout of medicines to counter the common yet debilitating disease. The house was sanitized in record time and Thorin had gone back to change then head off to work early. The full crew arrived and sunk in mood right with him in the wait until word could be had of your status.
Lunch was when he got the call, the phone nearly flew from his hand when he jerked it out of his pocket, answering the call he listened to Feanor’s sharing that you were settled into the quarantined suite with your nieces in that wing of the best hospital in Greenwood.
Thorin, “Do they know when she will be awake?”
Fëanor, “Sometime tomorrow, the medicine is really strong up front she won’t be conscious very much the next few days.”
Thorin’s eyes shut and he rubbed his hand over his forehead asking, “Is there anything I can do?”
Fëanor sighed, “You’ve done so much already.”
Thorin scoffed, “I packed a bag! Then I stood aside while our home was scrubbed and she was carried out! How is that help?”
Fëanor, “You’re healthy and safe. It doesn’t sound like much to you but you’re going to be there when she gets home in a few days.”
Thorin’s lips parted, “I thought you said it might be two weeks.”
Fëanor, “The girls will be closer to two, apparently the medicine works faster in Hobbits. Her veins have already started dimming again which normally takes two days to stop.”
Thorin felt a surge of hope wash through him, “That’s good then,” he wet his lips, “She’s not getting sick or anything? I know you said she was asleep, but before that?”
Fëanor, “Normally it just makes them sleep through the medicine, without it they get violently ill.”
“At least she won’t be too uncomfortable through it then.” He wet his lips, “I’ll let you get back to it then, um, my lunch is almost up.”
Fëanor, “She told me to tell you to go be magnificent, and not to worry too much about her she’ll call when she wakes up.”
Lowly Thorin replied, “I will, thank you.”
The phone cut off on Feanor’s side and he moved to go sit at your side again, brushing up the covers that had slid down in your slumbering wiggle. Stroking your back calmly his gaze again turned to your heart monitor and then below it to the fetal monitor showing the steady pulse flashing across the screen.
Honestly, it wasn’t the medicine, you were wide awake not half an hour ago but after hearing the positive on your blood panel you had lasted calmly until the doctor had left the room then cried yourself to a point of exhaustion you drifted off in their arms. You did mean to call and said something similar to what Fëanor had said on the flight over, yet you had worried so much about how to tell Thorin he thought it best to leave it to you when you felt better. This was amazing news but also one to jab at an open wound that would no doubt make Thorin insist on seeing you to comfort you through it and worry about not just you but your surprise bundle too.
*
“How is that possible?! I’m on X. It’s supposed to be the strongest in injectable birth control.”
The doctor wet his lips hearing the wandering heart rate beeping in its dips and rises in your adjusting to the news. “It is, for Elleths. Meaning, when you do see your obgyn again you should look into Hobbit based hormones, after giving birth of course.” He let out a weak chuckle, “I’ve known Hobbitesess to just hold a friend’s baby or have a pregnant friend and it triggers those hormones to start ovulating even over the strongest medications.”
He inhaled deeply then stated, “These medications for your Neriama will not harm your baby, we’ve had hundreds of young mothers and babies pass through healthy, you said you haven’t shown any symptoms so it seems we’ve caught it early. Still if you would like we could bring in a monitor for them as well.” His brows inched up as your eyes remained fixed on his in your speechless stare, “Would you prefer a monitor?”
You managed a half nod and he flashed you a weak grin, “We will have that in here shortly, you rest and we’ll see if your progression tomorrow will allow us to get a sonogram machine in here to measure the little bud.” He turned and that day back in Orcarni flashed back to you, all that pain and terrifying confusion leading up to you having to bury your son and out the tears poured, your now green tears as you wept into the chests of Fëanor and your brothers not already curled around the girls.
You knew you could get through this but what the hell would you tell Thorin, how would you tell him, and more alarming was the whirlwind your mind spun into considering what he might say in return.
*
Through the screen of Thorin’s laptop he sat up in bed watching you sleep after you had dozed off on your video chat. Truly he didn’t mind and he was grateful for your loving conversation no matter how brief, in which he had told you he loved you, not his usual five times a day but twelve.
Three months now he had cherished each time he had said it since his first shout of it through the phone so you could hear it over the wind on the opposite end of the football match for Frodo stirring up awws and whistles from the crowd around him waiting in line at the concession stand. A giggle was his response before the cheers drowned out your response you happily repeated when he brought you the food you had asked for he insisted on getting alone.
He wanted you to be home so bad but nearly to full color again he watched you sleep hating the miles between you and after nearly an hour when he felt his eyes unable to stay awake his finger found the space bar to end the call so he could sleep with you, or at least dream he had. A full six days you had been gone and he had just his final shift to get through after deciding to keep busy at work without you to remain around his family who were the only thing keeping him sane between contact with you. Finishing the final button on his shirt he turned with brows furrowing at the out of place doorbell.
Instantly his heart skipped in the hope it possibly could be you coming home early, though halfway through the house he remembered you still hadn’t been discharged yet and had promised to call when you had and were on the way to flying home. Still he found the door and shoved the memory back of his being locked on the other side of his bathroom door from you that nearly had him in tears if he focused on it too long, and he opened the door.
“Delivery for a, Thorin Durin.”
Thorin accepted the tablet from the Dwarf and looked to the sending address, mumbling to himself, “I didn’t order anything…” a grin eased across his lips reading your name from the hospital in Greenwood, “Ah..”
Hastily he signed his name and thanked the delivery man who handed over the medium sized box and accepted his tablet in its place, “Have a nice day, Mr Durin.”
Thorin, “Same to you.” He said closing the door to hurry to his living room with the box.
Drawing out his key from his pocket he broke the tape on top and his brows furrowed in removing the packing holders. Until he spotted a tiny oak sapling in a pot coated with bunnies and acorns making him smirk as he followed the instructions on the card reading across the top, ‘Feed me, Keep me warm, let in the light.’
Chuckling to himself he gave it the water it needed and set it next to his mini sprout filled herb garden in the window box in the kitchen for light. Then returned to the box grinning seeing the black bearded crochet ram nearly seated upright with a head nearly too large for its body making him chuckle and trace his thumb over the heart on its front left rounded hoof. From there his eyes wandered to the deep blue sealed envelope with your writing on it feeling a bit too thick for just a note inside. And as much as he wanted to open it his phone chimed and he relented to waiting for his lunch to do so and carried the ram and card in their box all out to his car.
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All the way through the shift he managed to go, constantly stealing glances at the box his family had all stolen glimpses of their own stirring up whispers as to what the box could hold. Frerin had come by the show to ensure it all went smoothly for his big brother who seemed more stoic than usual through the full show against a Dwarven team to lessen the effect of not having you there.
Down along the wall when the cameras stopped rolling and the guest team had to get back to their own place in the call that had them hurrying off to a family gathering that got moved up in the arrival of an unexpected guest they had to pick up along the way. Freed from the obligated tasks Thorin went to the table where he smirked sliding the box closer to himself. A tap on his shoulder drew him away to get a hug from Frerin in asking, “Still tomorrow?”
Thorin nodded, “Midnight possibly if she can get out earlier.”
A gasp came from behind him and he smirked in seeing the ram being lifted from the box by Bilbo saying, “You’re serious?” Thorin’s brow inched up and before he could ask what he meant Bilbo asked, “Which sapling did she send?”
His brows pressed together curiously, “Oak, why?”
“Great choice, strength, resistance and knowledge. Perfect choice.”
“How did you know about the sapling?” He asked turning to Bilbo in confusion.
Bilbo smirked lifting the ram then asked, “Do you mind if I give it a squeeze?”
Thorin shook his head, “I can’t see why not.” He answered curiously with a hitch in his voice watching as Bilbo grinned squeezing the heart only to make Thorin’s lips part at the faint heartbeat coming from the ram luring the others closer as Bilbo’s grin spread wider bringing it closer to his ear.
Lowly Thorin asked, “Why is there a heartbeat-?”
His eyes focused on the doll with his mind and heart racing as to why you had sent it making Bilbo peer up at him curiously, lowering the doll he looked into the box pulling out the envelope clearly not opened yet, “Oh…”
Thorin repeated, “How did you know about the sapling, and the heartbeat, Bilbo?”
Bilbo wet his lips passing him the envelope his hand folded around through the thundering of his heart, “It’s a Hobbit tradition. Pick a sapling to plant as a symbol of a new beginning, then you take an animal of your choosing to add a voice box with a recording of the heartbeat of-,”
Tears had welled in Thorin’s eyes in accepting the ram he pressed the heart on to hear the heartbeat again, and he whispered, “Our baby..” Lowering his gaze a tear streaked down his cheek in pressing the doll to his cheek just next to his ear drawing more tears from his eyes until it stopped playing and he lowered that hand to help open the envelope to pull out your letter. Sniffling softly he unfolded the letter from you stirring his teary grin out,
“Thorin,
I tried to think up the best way to tell you, and every time I thought something up I always knew that it wouldn’t be right and I’d probably just end up staring at you lost for words. Waiting until I got back was out and over the phone didn’t seem right. So, here it is. Turns out the ‘foolproof’ birth control I was on wasn’t Hobbit proof. One of the blood panels at the Hospital came back positive.” His voice wavered in adding, “I’m pregnant.”
In that Frerin gently tilted the page to continue reading, “Please don’t worry the medicines are completely safe for expecting mothers. I do have an appointment set up in a few weeks for another check up to get everything started on that front. I should be home soon, take good care of the sapling,” Frerin chuckled adding with a smirk, “Plus don’t forget to tell Dis the race is on to the delivery room. It’s sort of a toss up in genetics as to when I could be due, anywhere from 12 months to 4 years. And if my Hobbit side wins out I might just beat her.” Spreading chuckles through the group in another tear falling down Thorin’s cheek. “I love you, Jaqi.”
Folding the letter up again he passed it to Thorin, who pulled the paper pocket enclosed disk out making Dwalin say, “I’ll drive you home and we can pop that in.” Thorin nodded and melted into the tight family hug lasting for a few minutes as he calmed enough to have Dwalin drive him home.
Anxiously they all settled onto the couches and chairs brought in around it along with the full family that had been called over, peering up at the screen when Bilbo closed the disk tray then hurried over to Dwalin’s leg nipping at his lip in seeing the first image of the grey and black screen popping up. Blind shifting had Thorin wetting his lips for a moment anxiously as the wand was shifted and the heartbeat played again louder making Thorin cup his ram against his cheek tearfully in seeing the curled body of the baby whose body was mostly head at this point drawing another sniffle from him. A sea of awws and comments filled the room and hugs were issued with a meal to follow celebrating while plans for a fuller celebration when you returned were bring set up.
Pt 16
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