#I hated her so much that I regressed her age and hid her in the basement for 3 months

[a-tenno-called-prin]

Guys look at my Smeeta

Her name is Vegetable

Her default colors are pineapple

I hate her

#warframe #wf #kavat #smeeta kavat #I hated her so much that I regressed her age and hid her in the basement for 3 months #then I met Eve's Chauncey and now we're setting them up on a date #hope it goes well for them

[xjulixred45x]

Hiiii I just read SatoSugu x Douma reader and I loved it! :3

I was wondering if you could do a headcanon about Ieiri Shoko adopting a Nezuko Kamado! Reader and her brother Tanjiro? Like imagine two 5 year old children walking around the streets of Japan homeless because their family was massacred by a special grade curse and they were the sole survivors. And the reader’s wounds were exposed to the curse which kinda transformed into a vampiric like state.

Like in a universe where Toji didn’t kill Riko, and Geto didn’t turn evil. Like the twins, megumi, tsumiki, reader and tanjiro having little playdates. It be so cute! And reader being so shy around Geto and Gojo so she hides behind Shoko. But also protective of Shoko :3

and maybe Nezuko! Reader when she’s older she develops a crush or gets a girlfriend and its Nobara Kugisaki

YES!!! SHOKO CONTENT!!! THANK YOU!!

Lieri Shoko x Nezuko! Reader(+ Tanjiro! Reader)

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: Divergent canon AU where Geto didn't turn evil and Toji didn't kill Riko, a happy AU. Smoking, some Angst, Fluff, Reader has the Powers and personality of Nezuko Kamado of Demon Slayer, Reader has a brother. I think is all.

To be honest, I can see how Shoko wasn't going to take care of the siblings voluntarily at first.

Let's see, I'm not saying that she didn't like children, just that she was too self-aware that her work environment and herself were not the best for a child, let alone two who had gone through a traumatic situation.

When she read the incident reports and autopsies of the parents, she felt bad for the children.

A curse of a special degree had invaded their house and killed their parents and siblings. The children hid quickly, which saved their lives, but they did not leave without both physical and emotional scars.

Shoko had to check on the youngest, (reader), who, thanks to long exposure to cursed energy, had gotten sick.

Although that was definitely common, the girl's rapid healing process was not.

It was something strange, it was as if his body began to absorb the cursed energy as a survival mechanism.

and his older brother, the other survivor, was largely unaffected, but he was definitely worried about what would happen to him and his sister once the checks were over.

Shoko wondered the same thing. They couldn't just return them as if nothing happened. Maybe they would hand them over to some clan?

Imagine Shoko's surprise when she found out that the brothers were going to live with her temporarily for "safety" reasons☠️

They weren't fooling Shoko, they wanted to keep the children close to see how they developed as sorcerers and how to use them in the future, especially the girl, but she really couldn't do much against that.

After all, being the only doctor with a reverse technique, Shoko had a high level of security, so if the children would be safe anywhere, it would be with her.

although it definitely didn't mean it was easy.

Shoko spent much of the time before the children's arrival moving things, throwing away papers, organizing her house, so that it was habitable for two more children.

She also had to moderate her gloomy attitude towards children for now in order not to generate a regression as a result of the trauma.

She had to learn not to smoke inside her own home.

It was a great adjustment. and Shoko hates it at various points.

and it was worse when she didn't love the children right away, she felt like she was changing her life completely for strangers.

Fortunately it was not something that lasted for long.

(reader) and her brother were good children, quite good, they didn't cause problems, they ate what Shoko gave them and above all they were calm. maybe too much.

Sometimes Shoko worried that they were too quiet for their ages.

which prompted her to want to interact more with them.

In part he did it with the excuse that it was to have more information about the (reader's) condition, but it was quite obvious that he cared about the children.

but especially their health.

Shoko being Shoko let the children make their mistakes to learn from them, which included getting hurt, she expected to have to treat the boobs but was surprised when she saw, again, the rapid healing of (reader).

so it's not just with cursed energy, it's with all the wounds.

Shoko watched the children in their period of adjustment and recovery while doing what she could to make them comfortable, such as telling them a story (which she had to buy), making them food, giving them some private classes in the cursed energy (and them understanding as much as Geto and Gojo), etc.

Shoko was...starting to enjoy the company, the movement, the activity...

The children's enthusiasm and optimism was contagious, especially from (reader)'s brother, Tanjiro, who was always trying to help with anything around the house, see the positive side, and being generally sunny.

(reader) on the other hand was a somewhat cryptic case, she was a good girl, yes, but at the same time she barely spoke, she was more reserved, but she definitely had potential.

that was what worried Shoko.

She has seen what Jujutsu does to people, what the ACADEMY does to people, taking something good and crushing it.

She didn't want (reader) to go through something like that, she had already been through a lot in her life.

If possible, he will ask Geto and Gojo for help in keeping the higher-ups away from the children, which they both gladly do.

Shoko also exposes them to other children with their special abilities, such as Megumi, Mimiko and Nanako, they get along quite well despite their differences (the reader and Tanjiro are somewhat afraid of Geto and Gojo, but at least they feel safe with Shoko there) .

Thus, they grow with better management of their skills and, above all, a better understanding of the jujutsu environment.

If we go to the most general ideas, Shoko is the empowering "cool mom" who lets you get away with anything as long as you don't hurt yourself (she doesn't give a damn about anyone else).

Shoko is "fine" with her children wanting to join the sorcerers, but she will also be quite clear about all the possible risks (and will threaten Satoru with death if her children do not return safely).

If her children still want to be sorcerers, then she accepts it, she even supports their courage quite a bit.

I think that Shoko, taking advantage of ( reader's) healing ability, would try to teach her reverse ritual technique, hopefully now using words that she can understand and thus be more useful in fights or outside of them. You could really use an assistant after all.

Now that her children are grown, she allows herself to be her normal, somewhat scary self, so to annoy them from time to time she throws super random or super deadly data on the human body as "fighting tips" or how to dismember someone, For example.

She finds it funny how, having been practically raised by her, they still turned out so good-natured.

Although don't get me wrong, Shoko will be a somewhat carefree mother but that doesn't mean she doesn't care about her children.

If (reader)/her brother comes depressed because a classmate died, they had a horrible mission or they are simply down, then she will sit with them, give them some tea (or a cigarette if they want) and comfort them in her own way.

She wants her children to feel like they can count on her and tell her what they feel, not be the "my mom is going to kill me" type of guardian.

And above all, he is afraid of losing (reader) and Tanjiro for that very reason, that they cannot say things.

Shoko is brutally honest with her children, so she expects the same. She knows when to praise them and when to criticize them.

that in all aspects of life, both school and out of school.

in love for example.

(reader) is someone with little experience in love, so Shoko will always be honest when she thinks a boy doesn't suit her, even if it sounds ugly or causes a fight, she prefers a passing storm to a permanent hurricane.

The same goes for Tanjiro, but we could say that the two of them team up to protect (the reader)'s back as much as possible from jerks.

Honestly, Shoko would be more than fine with LGBT children, simply because then she won't have to deal with certain additional problems.

I mean, if (reader) had a crush on Nobara for example, seeing that she is a good girl and that she is good for (reader) because she accepts her into her home.

although she definitely gives him/her the shovel talk in case she/he ever dares to try to hurt her daughter :)

and also Shoko's threats SHOULD definitely not be taken for granted.

She has already become very, VERY attached to them for the higher-ups to want to do some dirty tactics with them in order to maintain "peace" in the system.

even without Gojo or Geto helping her, Shoko is BRUTAL on her own.

If they tried to take the kids to another family, I think it would be one of the first times that Shoko loses her cool and is panicking, it's not like she would let it happen, but she wouldn't think that would happen in the first place.

You could say that children really change her priorities.

If they try to commit any of the children to a member/heir of one of the clans, it is a big NO NO and she will make the epic move of eloping with the children on the wedding day. she is like that💅

Experiments with ( reader) because of her special ability? Over her cold.dead.maggot infested BODY.

Do you hurt any of them? It's your last day. prepare to be received at the morgue, not necessarily dead yet :)

She literally becomes feral.

Even if he doesn't mean it, he might threaten to quit his position as a doctor if they try any moves with the kids, which has worked, for now.

But either way, there's nothing to worry about. Shoko is a mother bear who protects and loves her strange and extraordinary children very much.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Aaaaaa it's been so long since i enjoyed writing for JJK so much!

If You guys can, Request of other fandoms (i'm recently into Invincible and Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, so if You can, it would be really nice)

Love ya ❤️

#headcanons #fem reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu no kaisen #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujutsu shoko #shoko x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #platonic #platonic reader #demon slayer nezuko

[v3nusxsky]

Hey!! I know you said earlier that you are swamped with lesso requests, so really please dont feel like you have to write this. I just had this idea for an agere fic, so yknow how in the school for good and evil movie, when rafal is trying to destroy the schools, and he turns the staff (including lesso and dovey) into dolls?? What if reader is their girlfriend, and she didnt get turned into a doll because dovesso hid her in a room away from rafal so she doesnt get hurt. And reader notices that her mommas havent come back for quite some time, so she goes to search for them. She finds them as dolls, and at first she thinks its funny and she plays with them, but then she starts to miss the real human them and gets really upset. Once rafal is defeated, they turn back into their regular human forms (and remember everything that happened while they were dolls) and they comfort reader to make her feel better, super fluffy ending?? LOVE your writing, i hope youre having a great day. <333

Dolly heart

*Authors note~ I'm sorry it's taking ages for this to be posited but Agere will always have my heart, slowly smashing out these requests and getting ahead of myself which means you'll have fics prepared for when I move :)*

Trigger warnings~ little r Leonora mumma and Clarissa mommy Rafal being a horrid human sad little r

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Your girlfriends would always protect you and put your safety and health above their own. It took loving you for them to finally accept the love they'd been denying all the years for one another. And then they realised you regressed, allowing them to function as your caregivers which only strengthened their feelings for you and each other. When you regressed they took you to your old chambers in the school for good, where you had everything your little mind could ever think of.

This particular day, you happened to be snuggled up in the bed with your mommas happily suckling on your fingers as you dozed in and out of consciousness. That's when they heard it, the bang. What on earth would the Nevers and Evers doing now that would be so loud? But then came the terrified screams. Both woman made sure you would be happy and have all your needs met when you awaken before carefully leaving you to rest, they had every hope to be back before you even realised they had gone. But Rafal had other plans for the women.

Waking up cold was something you hated in either mindset, normally you'd have the warmth of at least one of your girls but not today. Your little mind struggled to understand where they'd gone. You spotted your favourite sippy cup and your favourite biscuit shaped like little animals at the bedside, all ready for you to pick at. But soon after you began to notice their absence again, you truly didn't know what to do or where they were which caused you to cry.

Twenty minutes of crying had you trying to escape the bed and flee the room, angry whines of frustration when you couldn't open the door. But after a few minutes of tugging and crying you managed to get it open just enough for you to slip through the gap. There you managed to stumble your way through the halls until you entered the great hall. Colourful and pretty much the dream wonderland for your mindset, but the best part was it came with dolly's.

Both mommas knew just how much you loved dolly's so of course they'd surprise you with dolls in certain places that you'd happen to find. This time it appears you'd been extra good because of the number of dolly's. If you were less excited and in more of a mature mindset you would've noticed the likeness to the people you call friends and your lovers. But you weren't, so with an excited squeal you threw yourself to the ground and scooped up the two dolls that looked like your mommas. "Momma" you whimpered stroking the dolls curly hair, "mommy!" You squeaked happily twirling the doll so her dress moves.

For a while you acted out all the little things your mind came up with, from momma and mommy being with you to adding in your friends miniature versions, going through daily things as you babbled to yourself happily. Looking at the Lesso doll had tears sprinting into your eyes, "mamamama" you babbled as the sadness overwhelmed you. "Want mamama mommmy" you whimpered putting the dolls down gently before curling into yourself in an attempt to self soothe.

You cried yourself to sleep on the cold hard floor, which is how you missed you dolls turning into the usual selves. Leonora was first to run to you, Doveys good instincts wanting her to check on everyone first, she know lesso would make sure your okay. "Dove? Wake up my little devil. Wake up for momma" she murmured while trailing her finger through your hair in a soothing manner. "Momma" you blinked sleepily coming to rub the sleep out of your tired eyes, "miss yous where gones?" That moment you caught sight of your mommy you could've sobbed for joy.

"Hi baby" Clarissa murmured coming to scoop you up in her arms, "I missed you sweet girl, and thank you for being so kind to those dolly's angel, we are very proud of you little love." At the mention of the dolls you began to search the room, not finding any dolls which caused you to cry. "What's wrong my darling?"Clarissa murmured now coming to rub your back in a soothing manner. "Mana dolly gones!" You sobbed hiccuping as the sobs wracked your body. "You want a mama dolly baby?" You nodded watching as Leonora magically produced two dolls, exact replicas of what you were playing with before. "Let's go lay down my love, I'm sure you wanna show momma and mommy dolly to all your other stuffies don't you?"

Word count~ 1019

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #dovey x lesso #mama lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #lesso #lesso x dovey #cg lesso #cg dovesso #dovey x reader #dean of good #dean of evil mother #dean of evil

[ace-of-gay]

Omg i got this cute idea!

Loki is and his little one are playing hide and seek and he thinks it’s so easy to find her and always played along like he can’t find her (but he sees her usually somewhere)

So this time it’s the same, he spottet her home slippers (not sure what you call your indoor shoes) underneath the curtains… so he plays along but when he is like „ I got you!“ and looked behind the curtains she isn’t there! So she really tricked the god of mischief 😂😍

Little trickster

Loki x little reader

843 words

Warnings: age regression, names like bubs, baby, tiny, pumpkin etc. Activities like playing with toys, watching movie, climbing, hiding in dark space. Items like stuffies and paci

No weight, skin color, or gender mentioned.

Age regression is a copuling mechanism if you dont like it dont read it or educate yourself on the topic

Any hate will be deleted

Youd been very antsy and rowdy today, moving and going all over the place, loki would find it hard to keep your attention on one thing when it came to days like this, it felt as though you needed a more one on one interactive day between yourself and him.

He knew your little mind was just all over the place and while it wasn’t easy, he was happy to get through the day with you.

You were settled in the living room, a movie on the television and your shape sorter, placing the green cube in the square hole you look up at him as he takes your hands into his own and shakes them in the air, cheering, “good job munchkin! How bout this one? Can you tell daddy the color and shape of this one?” Holding out the new shape you look at it for a moment, than to him, the tv and back to him.

“Mmm, no, I don’t wanna do this no more, it cane out more as a whine than a statement.

You felt scattered. Your mind and thoughts everywhere, that is until you got the fantastic idea to play hide and seek, it didn’t take too much effort to hide so of course itd be perfect.

Taking his hands pulling with all your might, he starts to give in bringing a smile to your face until he went limp and flopped down bringing you down into his arms, tickling your sides.

Writhing and consumed by giggles he rolled over scattering silly kisses across your face.

Finally stopping his tickle attack he helps you sit up.

“Now what is it you wanted to do?”

He helps you up and places his hands on his hips waiting.

No one ever saw him like this, only you, hes caring and encouraging just for you.

“ can we hide an seek!” You request cheerfully.

Crossing his arms pretending to to think he taps his foot a couple times, “I don’t see why not, do you want me to be the counter first?”

Nodding, you run off as soon as he closes his eyes, counting he can hear you running about the floor, your giggles and a door shutting.

“Ready or not hear I come!”

During hide and seek he always tried to make it look like he had no idea where you where but truth is you hid in the same three spots, hed search the rooms vaguely, looking for your slippers in his peripheral vision, after finding them he would slowly center in while looking around closer and closer to your spot.

Your favorite spot was behind the curtains because they would flow so effortlessly around you, he quickly pulled the curtain to the side jumping forward, the excitement quickly rushing from him in a cold shock.

While yes he looked in your normal spits he also checked others aswell.

He picked up his pace checking both high and low, he couldn’t find you anywhere.

Staying as quiet as you could you peered down from the false ceiling loft, you’ve lived here longer than he has and he had never found the lofted space, it honestly looked like a drop ceiling so he had suspected nothing, the best part about this spot is you could basically watch him when he walked, well more rushed down the hall im search of you, biting your stuffy to stifle your giggles, you had plenty of entertainment to keep you occupied.

“Friday, where’s (y/n)?” He sounded urgent, terrified you were somehow in danger.

“Tiny is on your communal floor with you” Friday returns.

He head back over to the kitchen area to check cupboards again, while peeking over the small lip over the hall way your paci clamped tightly in your hand, you go to sit back quickly to stifle more giggles, while doing so your paci caught the edge and tugged itself out of your grasp.

The clatter of your paci falling and hitting the hard wood floor caught his attention, zeroing in what area you must be in.

Leaning as far back into the darkness of the loft space as possible you clamp both hands over your mouth, silently writhing in humorous desperation to laugh.

“Its not nice to throw stuff pumpkin, can you come out for me please? You’ve won baby please come out”

You for the last time lean over the opening, you can see him peering into your playroom scanning it for your presence.

“Boo” you whisper loud enough for him to hear, his head shoots up to look at you peeking down from what he thought was just an uncovered vent over a bookshelf in the hall.

“What in the world are you doing up there bubs?”

“Was hiding, was best spot” you cheer while carefully climbing down, he pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight, scatting kisses to the side of your head, “I thought I lost you and you were hurt you sneaky rascal, don’t scare me like that again you silly goose”

Im sorry its shorter than usual, i have tried to post this three times but my internet has been dodgy and my phone freezes and i just realized a bit ago that it never posted once again, i just thought i wasnt getting notifications again, nope, stupid phone doing stupid things.

#little reader #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki x male reader #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x f!reader #loki x m!reader #loki x gn!reader #daddy! loki x little! reader #daddy loki x little! male reader #loki x little! reader #daddy loki x little reader #agere reader #age regressor insert fic #loki reader insert #loki x reader fanfic #loki x ftm reader #loki x mtf reader

[writerpey]

Regressor!Wednesday Headcanons

I basically binged the whole show in 2 days while sick and studying for finals! Is that going to stop me from spreading the little wednesday agenda? absolutely NOT! here are some headcanons because I think she’d be the cutest regressor ever. I also take requests! <3

Wednesday is an involuntary age regressor. Years of trauma and a childhood that was rather isolating caused her to sink into her headspace for the first time. Her family knows but she pretends they don’t, and the person she’s most comfortable regressing around is Enid, of course! She’s very quiet and has a difficult time asking for things. Sometimes it’s hard for Enid to tell if she’s regressed, but the lack of a witty Wednesday-like response is an immediate answer.

She absolutely loves building things when she’s small. Sitting on Enid’s bed with a Lego set in front of her puts the smallest of smiles across her lips. When she’s super focused her tongue pokes out and she can literally sit and work on something for hours.

Wednesday gets very overstimulated from loud noises. She doesn’t like playing her Cello when small, nor can she stand it when Enid turns her music on in their room. One of Wednesday’s ways to cope with all of the big feelings that come to the surface when she’s little is to hide! Under the bed, in her closet, escaping to the terrace are all viable options.

The first time she hid, it was Thing that showed Enid where she was. Coaxing her out of the dark space between her bed and the floor was no easy task, but the look of anxiety in Wednesday’s eyes that faded into relief when she realized Enid actually wanted to help her was worth all the worry.

I saw another writer say that Wednesday would adore Sylvanian Families/Calico Critters and they’re so right! When Enid put a tiny black cat in Wednesday’s hand, her big brown eyes went wide. She takes it everywhere with her when she’s little, and therefore always likes wearing things that have pockets.

As her regression is involuntary and Wednesday hates feeling out of control, it makes her emotions come to the surface much easier. But that doesn’t mean that tears spill. Rather, Wednesday gets angry when her feelings are too much to handle. Whatever is near her will go flying, or her hands come up to roughly tug on her own braids. Once, she slipped during class and Xavier had to peel her hands away from her hair. He managed to calm her down by using his magic to bring life to the spiders she’d been doodling in her notebook.

She hates normal pet names but answers to anything along the lines of “little spook,” “doomsday,” (Enid felt very clever coming up with that one) and even “kitty cat.”

To continue with what I’ll call the Wednesday Cat Agenda, she adores her kitty ears that Enid had her wear for the big race. Black cats are the scariest of all felines, after all. (She knowledgeably told Enid this fact after asking the girl for help putting her ears on. Enid giggled and Wednesday scowled.)

Wednesday is a very mischievous little! She always manages to be somewhere she shouldn’t and have things that would be unsafe for someone else her age. Enid screamed the first time she walked into their room and found little Wednesday (and a Calico Critter standing on top of a very treacherous looking Lego tower) attempting to torch a fly with a lighter and hairspray. After that, Enid made Wednesday promise to tell her when she was feeling small. (A promise that Wednesday couldn’t always keep.)

#Wednesday agere #wednesday addams #agere fic #sfw agere #little!wednesday #regressor!wednesday #wednesday fic #wednesday headcanons

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Who Let Us Have A Group Chat?

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,424

Summary: The mystery of the disappearing plushie.

Warnings: Cursing, Violence (mentioned), Panic Attacks (mentioned), Death (mentioned), Caps, Therapy (because they all need it), Fighting (mentioned only), Age Regression, Give Moon His Bagel 2k23, let me know if I should add anything else.

Chapter 3: Who Stole The Plushie?

3:40am Who Took My Hat?

Eclipse: Can I PLEASE have Element back?

Blood Moon: For the last time, I don’t have Element!

Harvest Moon: Eclipse, we don’t know where Element is, please just exist without her for like an hour so we can find her.

Eclipse: I’m asking nicely! I know someone took her! I want her back!

Heliosphere: Eclipse, nobody has Element.

Bolide: I don’t even know what that is but no, I don’t have it.

Lunar: Do I have to kick all of your asses this morning or are you going to shut up?

Kill Code: Sons, what’s wrong?

Moon: Why are you all up at 4 in the morning?

Sun: djfnskdofnf

Lunar: Why are you up at 4 in the morning, Moon, ignoring your panic attacks again?

Moon: …yes

Lunar: Get the hell in here.

Kill Code: Sons, what happened?

Eclipse: I can’t find Element.

Kill Code: Which one of you took Element?

Blood Moon: None of us did. Bo doesn’t even know what Element is.

Kill Code: Go ahead and check that rancid little human.

4:01am Who Took My Hat?

Harvest Moon: elementgettingsquishedtoplushydeath.jpg

Harvest Moon: Trash Man took her and hid her in the basement. Bloody is ripping him limb from limb again.

Kill Code: Good to know your brother will still commit murder for his siblings on occasion. Now, get some sleep, my children.

Harvest Moon: Eclipse is already asleep. Fell asleep right after the picture.

Kill Code: Good, take his lead.

Sun: sola!!@:!&”/389bckkowoxb;?£{*•|?=**#%7739  f

8:45am Who Took My Hat?

Sun: Why does he have a stuffed bear?

Kill Code: He wanted one.

Moon: Sun, you can’t just ask people why they have a plushie.

Sun: It’s weird!

Lunar: I own plushies. Am I weird?

Sun: That’s different, you don’t refuse to sleep if you don’t have them.

Lunar: Yes I do, I make sure they’re all there before I go to bed and designate one for the night to sleep with. My plushies get very cared for. I don't go to sleep unless I can find them all.

Moon: Sun, I still sleep with that plush possum. I still can’t sleep without Puck.

Kill Code: Sun, I’ve seen that you have plushies in your room.

Sun: Listen, this is different.

Moon: Because it’s Eclipse?

Sun: Fine, yes. Because it’s Eclipse.

Lunar: To be very fair, Eclipse has had Element since me and him took over. Maybe before that even. Element has been with him longer than I have. He literally can’t sleep without her. He used one of Moon’s old machines that makes her glow in the dark and he cried the one time we couldn’t find her.

Moon: See? He clearly has an emotional attachment to Element. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. Same as me and Puck or Lunar and Lord Luminescence the Eleventh of Love Kingdom.

Lunar: Just call him Lumi.

Moon: But the full name is so much better.

Lunar: I call him Lumi.

Moon: Alas

Eclipse: Element is weird?

Moon: No, she isn’t.

Eclipse: Sunny said so.

Kill Code: Son, having Element isn’t weird, she’s healthy for you.

Bolide: Father Alert, Father Alert! We need Dad, he’s crying!

Kill Code: Pay in coffee?

Moon: And a bagel. And coffee cake. For disturbing my late-night panic attack party with Puck last night.

Kill Code: Consider it done.

Moon: Bacon and egg bagel, no cheese, can’t eat dairy.

Kill Code: You severely need to fix our lactose intolerance, Moon.

Moon: Why? I hate dairy anyway.

Kill Code: You cried over not being able to eat ice cream yesterday because you couldn’t find any that were nondairy.

Moon: Leave my mental breakdown out of this.

Kill Code: No, talk about your damn issues.

Moon: Maybe once I’m dead and haunting my brothers, maybe then I’ll talk about my mental health issues.

Harvest Moon: Brother is happy once again.

Kill Code: Moon, I will buy you nondairy ice cream if you just talk about your mental health, please.

Sun: I want to talk about my mental health!

Kill Code: We know, Sun.

Sun: I’m sad.

Kill Code: We know, Sun. I’m scheduling both of you therapy appointments.

Moon: You are not scheduling me therapy.

Kill Code: Then why am I talking to a therapist’s office right now?

Moon: DO NOT

Kill Code: Your therapy is scheduled. I’m not telling you when.

Moon: Gooooooooooood DAMMIT

Kill Code: Sun, go to this address today at five.

Kill Code has dropped a location

Kill Code: Same therapy office as Eclipse’s therapist.

Lunar: Wait, that’s my therapist’s office.

Eclipse: Do you go to Dr. Leeson?

Lunar: No, Dr. Marin

Eclipse: Lunar, Dr. Leeson and Dr. Marin are married.

Lunar: Oh. Do you think they talk about us?

Eclipse: Absolutely. Probably not with names or anything but probably yeah. Probably ask each other how they got the abused and abuser in their offices.

Lunar: What time is your therapy usually at?

Eclipse: Mondays at ten in the morning.

Lunar: See, that’s why we miss each other. I’m Wednesdays at one.

Eclipse: Which means they probably talk about us on Thursdays like ‘you hear the trauma of the week from the those brothers?’

Lunar: ‘yeah, the younger one said he hid in playhouses’

Eclipse: ‘the older one says he cries more than he laughs. he hides in closets. I can’t figure out why for the life of me.’

Blood Moon: I visit Dr. Pierce every couple weeks because Dad wants “mental health checks”

Harvest Moon: Dr. Pierce is scared of you.

Blood Moon: Hey, Dr. Ryans is scared of you too.

Harvest Moon: Dr. Ryans is scared of the things I tell him.

Heliosphere: Why are me and Bo not in therapy?

Kill Code: Do you two have anything therapy-worthy?

Bolide: Not really, no.

Kill Code: That’s why.

Moon: Why can’t I know when my therapy is?

Kill Code: You’ll evade it.

Moon: You make a good point, can’t argue with that.

Sun: I’ll bite, why does Eclipse have a plushie?

Eclipse: Because I love her?

Sun: Yes, but why??

Eclipse: Because she loves me??

Sun: Plushies are incapable of love.

Moon: Sun

Eclipse: Element is my best friend. Ellie has loved me since I found her and I loved her back.

Sun: Plushies aren’t sentient, Eclipse. She doesn’t love you.

Blood Moon: Sun man

Eclipse: She does love me!

Sun: No she doesn’t, Eclipse.

Harvest Moon: Sunny

Kill Code: Sun.

Eclipse: Well at least Element has never abandoned me like everyone else!

Harvest Moon: Big drop.

Kill Code: Sunrise, shut up.

Sun: What?

Blood Moon: LET ME FIGHT THE SUN

Heliosphere: Sun, that was mean

Bolide: Yeah, Sunny.

Sun: What even happened? I just told him plushies can’t love?

Moon: Sun, you done fucked up.

Sun: Why?

Moon: How do I put this delicately so you don’t get upset in therapy later and the therapists don't figure out they have a fifth sibling?

Moon: Um…know how a couple of the teenagers need to be in the play area when they’re in the daycare because they regress?

Sun: Yes, Rei and Adalyn.

Moon: And you understand regression?

Sun: Obviously.

Sun: oh

Sun: OH FUCK ECLIPSE IM SORRY

Kill Code: He says thank you.

Harvest Moon: No he said ‘tank ooo sunny’

Sun: Oh my god

Lunar: I want this recorded, this has to be adorable. Finally a chance to see him vulnerable.

Kill Code: eclipsebeingadorable.vid

[video transcription] Kill Code: Come on, son, can you say hi to your brothers?

Eclipse: I love Babas.

Kill Code: Can you say hi to Sun and Lunar?

Eclipse: I love you Sunny and LuLu!

Kill Code: Gonna show them Element?

Eclipse: I gots Ellie! Mine!

Kill Code: Yes she is yours, isn’t she? The she takes care of you when nobody else is home, right?

Eclipse: Bee! Paci! Paci! Das mine!

[Blood Moon shows up behind Eclipse lightly biting an orange and black paci’s black lanyard with pumpkins on it]

Blood Moon: Oh, is it now?

Eclipse: *giggling* Das mine!

Blood Moon: Oh okay, fine, but only because you’re so cute.

[Blood Moon hands him the pacifier and rests his head on Eclipse’s shoulder while Eclipse happily puts his paci in his mouth and leans against him]

Kill Code: All better now, son?

Eclipse: I bettew.

Kill Code: Okay, good. [transcription end]

Lunar: God, why is that cute?

Sun: This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?

Moon: Yep, it’s cute to witness. Cute enough to wait for my bagel.

Kill Code: Shit, I forgot your fucking bagel.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #sun and moon show #sams #the daycare groupchat au #agere eclipse #fnaf eclipse #fnaf bloodmoon #fnaf harvest moon #fnaf heliosphere #fnaf bolide #fnaf lunar #kill code moon #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf trash can man #snoweywrites #tw cursing #tw violence mention #tw panic attack mention #tw death mention #tw caps #tw therapy mention #tw fighting mention #age regression #five nights at freddy’s agere #fnaf agere #sun and moon show agere #sams agere #let moon have his bagel 2k23

[sunshines-bee-farm]

You're On Your Own Kid [Agere Minecraft Fic] [APTR AU]

Trigger warnings: disownment, agere hating, there will be a happy ending and more parts

____

PUDDLES WASN’T USED TO BEING ON HIS OWN. He was raised as part of a large family, with six sibling pups who were all bigger, more confident, and apparently nicer than Puddles was. Puddles had an attitude, apparently, and wasn’t always in touch with reality. Apparently. 

Sprinkles, his sister, barged into his room one day when he had forgotten to lock the door. It was the biggest mistake of his life, because the moment she saw the adult paci in his mouth and the toys on the ground, she turned on her heels and was gone in an instant. It felt like moments later he was packed and on his way out of Silvermount. 

He had only managed to save one of his little items, one he begged and cried for until his ex-mother acquiesced, shoving it in his hands and then slamming the door in his face. It was a raggedy stuffed rabbit, one that used to be cream but was now a light brown. It had a faded, soft-from-time yellow ribbon around its neck. Puddles hid his tears in her fur. 

He wasn’t going to lie and say he loved his family. At least, he wouldn’t say it was cut and dry. As the runt of the litter, Puddles had to fend for himself his entire life, and while Sprinkles grew up on a fluffy pillow, he had to fight for scraps of food. He was used to being on his own. 

But he wasn’t, too. Because at least they pretended. At least they tried. One adult pacifier later, and they weren’t. One wooden train later, and he was alone. 

It didn’t feel much different. 

Silvermount was a tiny village built along the peaks of a tall mountain, with a rough path winding down to the valley. The valley in which Star and oliver disappeared into three years ago, after they were found out by the others for their lifestyle. No one understood the age regression, and they didn’t care to try. Puddles didn’t know what happened to the two. 

He wandered for days, until he was too tired to hold back the sobs anymore. He curled up on the forest floor for so long a pig laid next to him, plump and serene, not at all spooked by the pup’s unnatural blue fur or loud cries. He named her Bailey. 

“Puddles?” 

He jumped ten feet in the air. Bailey ran, squealing, to hide behind a tree. He sat up with his pack of useless adult stuff weighing on his shoulders, only to find Oliver, Star’s caregiver, standing there. He held a basket of apples, a diamond axe at his side. It sheened with enchantment. 

“Oliver?” His voice cracked. 

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Something in his voice told Puddles he knew Puddles would be lying if he said camping. “They didn’t…”

It was all it took. Oliver sat next to him and held him while he cried, which was more than Puddles ever had or ever would deserve. Oliver had always been nice to him. He was a natural caregiver, in any capacity. Puddles would never be like him. 

“Hey,” Oliver said softly after a while. “Hey.” 

Puddles looked up. Oliver wiped the mud from under Puddles’ eye. 

“Come stay with us.” 

Puddles’ eyes widened. “Wh-what? No, I can’t— why would you even offer that? After…” 

“Because it’s my house and I make my own decisions.” He smiled. “And I forgave you a long time ago.” 

“But what about Star?”

“She’s mad at you, she’s not evil.” He laughed. “She won’t let you suffer just because you made a mistake.” 

Puddles’ heart was pounding. How was he meant to accept this? He couldn’t. But Oliver was stubborn, and after arguing for half an hour, Puddles was too tired. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe in a bed. 

Oliver led him through the Muted Valley, birch trees towering and bees buzzing over tulips and sunflowers. Bailey followed. They came across a decently sized house, clearly handbuilt but done very well, made of baby blue terracotta with a dark oak roof. Mossy cobble lined the dirt path. A few mushroom trees had grown, whether intentionally or unintentionally Puddles didn’t know. Oliver would truly go to the ends of the Earth for Star. What was it like to have someone who loved you that much? 

“Little star,” Oliver called when they entered. “Puddles is here.” Something crashed to the ground. Oliver laughed. “You okay?” 

“Did you say Puddles?” She poked her head through a doorway. “Is that a pig?” 

The living room was covered in toys. Drawings by Star lined the walls, both from when she was big and little, it looked like. Puddles was astounded that they lost everything for littlespace… and kept it. They didn’t seem ashamed or embarrassed. This was just how they were. 

Puddles stared at the ground, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes and hugging his bag. Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder as he explained. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Star shrugged, looking uncomfortable and definitely not little anymore, “you can stay as long as you need. But… you better be telling the truth.” 

His eyes watered. “I am. I promise.” 

“I believe you.” She sounded genuine, but he couldn’t fathom why. “You need some little time. Come on, we’ll set up your room later, let’s have a tea party.” 

She turned and walked briskly over to her toybox, pulling out a handmade wooden tea kettle and some cups. Puddles hesitated so long she stopped to turn and ask, “You coming? Your pig can join.” 

He felt silly sitting at the tea party dressed in trousers and a leather tunic. He missed his onesies, his flare skirts. Star noticed, because after a moment of pouring fake tea she stood and demanded he follow her. 

“Play nice, baby,” Oliver called as they left. 

Puddles swallowed. They entered the bedroom and Star started going through her little closet. 

“You’re a femboy, aren’t you?” She asked. Puddles hesitantly agreed. “So skirts don’t bother you, even though you’re trans?” 

“I like skirts,” he said quietly. 

“Okay, then I have something you can borrow.” 

She pulled out a skirt made of light wool, pastel blue with little fluffy white clouds. She tossed it to him with a white long sleeved blouse. He changed in the bathroom, and when he came out, he felt strange because he felt like himself again. 

Star grinned. “You look great! Perfect for a tea party. What about your little guy—what’s his name?” She pointed to his rabbit. 

He gripped her tighter. “Delilah.” 

“Oh, a girl bunny?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And did you name your pig?” 

“Bailey.” 

She crouches down and pets Bailey’s head. “Who’s a good girl? Who’ll probably eat some of my clothes if I’m not careful? You are!” 

They went back to the living room and Oliver read a book while he watched them play. Puddles had trouble regressing—a lot of trouble—but found himself slowly sinking into the headspace as Star made conversation and offered him toys. They raced wooden cars along the floor. His favorite was a pink one, made of cherry wood. She gave it to him. Like, for good. He almost cried. 

It wasn’t happy tears, though. 

Because he was used to being on his own. He was used to fending for himself and keeping his shield raised and his head high, but now? He was crumbling under any small gesture of kindness. He dropped his walls and showed them everything, made himself completely vulnerable. 

And they accepted him. They didn’t seem to want to take advantage of him. 

And that… he was not used to. 

#sfw age regression #a place to rest au #did system #age regression #agere #sfwagere #sfw agere #minecraft #minecraft agere #fandom agere #age regressor #agere writing #agere fic #my writing

[agerefandom]

Safe and Sound

Fandom: Steven Universe

Characters: Regressor!Steven, featuring Amethyst, Pearl, and Garnet as caregivers.

Words: 2,000

Summary: Steven decides to give up regression when he becomes part of the Crystal Gems, but one morning he finds himself physically stuck as a young child until he’s willing to accept the help he needs.

Warnings: ‘Little’ terminology used. Rose is mentioned in this fanfiction, Steven regresses from stress, and there is a mention of panic attacks, as well as a fair amount of described anxiety. Also, Steven physically regresses as well as mentally, because it’s canon that his body shifts to fit the age that he feels like? Cartoons are odd.

Note: This is set somewhere in season two, I think, but it’s a bit ambiguous. I haven’t seen Steven Universe Future yet, so excuse any contradictions, and the canon fact that the Gems are absolute disaster caregivers.

Steven loved the beach house that he shared with the Gems. He loved the constant sound of the waves, and the calm glow of the warp pad at night. He loved the short and familiar walk to town, his comfortable bed, and the bathtub deep enough that he could submerge his whole body.

The only thing that Steven hated about his home was the lack of privacy.

Even when the Gems were away on a mission, they could warp back in at any given moment. At night, Amethyst often wandered in to get a midnight snack, and Steven was sure that Pearl still watched him sleep, even if he hadn’t caught her recently.

So when Steven wanted to regress, he had to plan ahead.

At first, he had retreated into his mother’s room, knowing that no one could access it while he was inside. But as soon as he stopped being careful about what he wished for, Rose was always there, stepping off a nearby cloud to collect her son into her arms. Steven was happy to see his mother when he was little, playing and laughing and sharing his favourite stories. But at some point, he always aged up, and Rose would change into a figure who was silent, and looming, and distant. Steven would retreat from the room feeling more exhausted than before, promising himself that he wouldn’t go in again.

Lion became Steven’s source of escape. He would pack a bag, hop on Lion’s back, and tell the Gems that he was spending the afternoon with Connie, or Ronaldo, or even Sadie. He had enough friends that the Gems never checked first, and then he had a whole day to spend in a field in Alberta, or Texas, or even France.

Lion would pace around the area while Steven played, rumbling warnings at anyone who tried to approach. Steven would run, and explore, and eventually sit down and cry until his throat hurt too much to continue. Often, Lion would come and curl against him while he cried, turning his head away to feign indifference as his tail wrapped around Steven’s wrist.

Regression was only fun for a while, for Steven. Eventually, reality came crashing back in, harsher and bleaker in contrast to the bright innocent world he had inhabited for a few too-brief minutes.

Yet he came back to it again and again, not knowing a better way to escape the constant anxiety of his everyday life. He needed to forget about the most current threat to planet Earth, needed to forget about Pearl and Amethyst’s most recent fight. Needed to forget the guilt of walking in on his father crying over a picture of Rose.

Regression was a safe space like nothing else in his life was, ruled by uncertainty and continual attacks from outside and inside his family.

--

Eventually, it fell apart.

As Steven was expected on more missions, the Gems might need him at any moment. If Steven wasn’t where he said he’d be, then all hell would break loose as the Gems searched for him. He was scared that if it happened too many times, then the Gems would stop letting him leave with Lion at all.

So there was only one thing to do. Steven had to give up regression. There was no time or space for it in his life, he always needed to be available for Crystal Gem missions. It was alright that the others forgot he needed to sleep, needed to eat, needed to rest between missions spent running after corrupted gems.

Steven was a Crystal Gem now, and he needed to act like it. That meant no more running away to be a kid every so often.

Steven was going cold-turkey.

But of course, things didn’t really work out like that. Steven managed to hang on for two full months, hiding his panic attacks in the bathroom and trying not to fall asleep on the couch whenever he sat down.

At the start of the second month, he woke up to the morning sun with tears already running down his face. His clothes were too big on him, and his arms felt weak when he tried to move them.

Trying not to panic, Steven looked down at himself and saw a young child’s body, twisted in the sheets and teenage-sized clothes that he’d slept in. He needed to shift back to normal-Steven before the Gems came out to see him!

But Steven couldn’t stop sobbing, and however hard he concentrated, he couldn’t calm down enough to shift back to his usual size. His failed attempts made him cry harder. What was he going to do? No one could see him like this!

Just as he was getting ready to truly panic, he heard the warp pad activate. Hurriedly throwing the covers over himself, Steven tried to cry as quietly as possible.

The Gem’s voices were bright as they spread out across the house, Amethyst’s voice drifting towards the fridge as the others settled on the couch. Their mission must have gone well. Pearl sounded especially enthused, but Steven couldn’t make out the words through the pounding panic in his head. Any minute they would notice him, unless he kept absolutely still. He had to keep absolutely quiet, despite the way that his chest was spasming, and he couldn’t breathe, and he just wanted his paci-

“Steven.” Garnet’s voice drifted up from below him, low and calm. “We’re home.”

Steven twisted his fists into the blankets, making a renewed effort to calm his breathing. If Garnet thought something was wrong, she would know everything as soon as she thought to look. Steven tried to make his voice sound normal, even though his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh, cool. I’m just having a n-nap.” His voice hitched on the last word, and he froze under the covers. There was silence for a beat, and then Pearl’s voice murmured a question to Garnet, too quiet for Steven to hear.

“What’s wrong, dude?” Amethyst broke right to the point, and Steven could hear her coming towards the stairs. He curled tighter into the blankets, prepared to wrestle them away from Amethyst’s grasping hands. But she stopped at the bottom and called up to him again. “Steven? Are you sick? If you’re gonna throw up, I wanna see!”

“Amethyst!” Pearl’s voice was sharp until she turned her attention to Steven. “Steven, are you alright? Do you need some food?” Steven had snapped at her about needing to eat breakfast a few weeks ago, and she had taken to offering snacks at the first sign of Steven’s distress.

“Steven is fine,” Garnet said calmly, and the other two made questioning noises at her. Steven curled tighter into the blanket, confused. He wasn’t fine! What was Garnet saying? Was she lying, or did she somehow not know what was happening? “Steven, you can come out and see us. No one will be mad.” Steven whimpered. Garnet was definitely lying. She wanted him to come out so that they could fix him.

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Pearl was saying.

“Come on, Steven.” Garnet’s voice was familiar, soft and certain. She always knew what was best, didn’t she? “You know we love to play with you. We always want to be with you, and spend time with you.”

“Of course we do!” Pearl’s voice was shrill. “We love Steven, he knows that!”

“Yeah, duh!” Amethyst added. “Steven is the best.”

Steven couldn’t stifle the tears as they spoke. They didn’t know who he was, didn’t know what he was hiding. They would see that he was just a stupid kid, that he couldn’t handle being a Crystal Gem. Why did they have to love him? It wasn’t fair. They would have just left him alone if they cared less, and then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Steven?” Pearl was the one to climb the stairs, her voice alarmed. “Steven, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” She scooped Steven off the bed, blankets and all, to hold him tight. “Come on, Steven, stop crying. We’re all here.” She started to unwrap the blankets from around him, and Steven panicked.

“No!” he shouted, trying to push her away. “No, no, no!” Pearl gasped, and then Steven was on the floor. The blankets were in his face, wrapped around his neck, and all of a sudden Steven felt trapped. He pushed at them, rolling on the floor, kicking arms and legs that were too small and too weak. He couldn’t breathe, but then the next second the blankets were gone and he was drawing in a breath to cry out again, the wailing cry of an overwhelmed toddler. “Leave me alone!” Steven shouted, slamming his hands into the wood of the floor. “Leave me alone!”

Hands wrapped around him and he was lifted off the floor. Steven wriggled against them, but they held strong, and suddenly he was cradled against the side of Garnet’s hip, held stable and safe against her. Garnet bounced Steven lightly, practised and easy.

“Hush, little one,” Garnet murmured. “We carried you for years, you know that.” Steven hid his face in her shoulder, sniffling. He was exposed, yet protected. He was vulnerable, yet safe. He didn’t know how to feel or what he should do. He was starting to calm down now, so surely he should shift back to normal as soon as possible? Being big-Steven seemed so far away and impossible, even as the tears and panic subsided. Garnet’s arms were so nice, so familiar.

“Do humans do that?” Pearl asked from somewhere over Garnet’s shoulder. “I thought they were linear time-beings and rather bitter about it.”

“Steven’s only half-human,” Garnet reminded her. “He’s special.”

“Can I hold him? Can I hold him?” Amethyst’s voice was as excited as ever. “Is he young enough for a bottle? I still have some of them in my room!”

“Nothing from your room is going into Steven’s mouth without a good wash first,” Pearl said sharply. “But I do have a clean bottle or two stored in my gem, if it would help,” she added to Garnet.

“Steven gets to make the decision,” Garnet said simply, shifting her hold on Steven so that he was sitting on her lap, on the edge of his bed, looking outwards. Once his hands were free, Steven put his fingers into his mouth and bit down anxiously, trying not to meet the eyes of the three Gems watching him.

“Oh, those are filthy,” Pearl admonished, and the next second Steven felt his fingers being pulled away, replaced smoothly by a pacifier. The familiar pressure on his tongue made him relax, and he finally looked up. Pearl was smiling at him, her gem still sparkling from when she had summoned the pacifier. Was she not angry?

“What’d’you say, Steven?” Amethyst’s face was suddenly right in front of him, her eyes big and hopeful. “Do you want a bottle from your big sis Amethyst?”

“Amethyst,” Steven tried to say, but around the pacifier it sounded like babbling. He felt himself go red, and bobbed his head in a nod.

Amethyst pumped a fist in the air and said something enthusiastically, but Steven didn’t hear it because Garnet had put her hands over his ears. Pearl looked angry about Amethyst’s outburst, wagging her finger and pointing to Steven. Steven could feel Garnet laughing against his back.

“You have a silly family, Steven,” Garnet murmured when she took her hands back. “But they all love you very much.”

“Sorry, Steven,” said Amethyst, looking contrite. “I forgot you were little for a second.”

“Baba!” Steven managed around his paci, making grabby hands. Wasn’t Amethyst going to feed him?

“Coming right up!” Pearl sing-songed, dropping a kiss on Steven’s forehead before summoning a shiny bottle out of her gem with a wave of her hand. She passed the bottle to Amethyst, who did a front-flip off the bed, landed on the couch, and bounced all the way to the kitchen with one more jump.

“Oooh!” Steven clapped for her, laughing.

“Amethyst, use the stairs!” Pearl sighed, before kneeling down in front of Steven. “Hello, Steven,” she said gently. “Do you remember me?”

“Pearl!” Steven tried around his paci, and Pearl beamed at him.

“That’s right!” She tapped the end of his nose, and Steven giggled. “Now, what did you eat for breakfast yesterday?”

Steven let the paci fall from his mouth, barely noticing Garnet catch it. “Donuts!” he told Pearl proudly. “Walk all the way!”

“You do eat a lot of donuts! Who gives you the donuts?”

“Sadie!” Steven was bouncing on Garnet’s lap, giggling. “And Lars!”

“Good job!” Pearl produced a star sticker from what seemed like nowhere and pressed it to the front of Steven’s too-big shirt. “You’re a very smart little human.”

“Uh-huh!” Steven looked around for his paci, but Garnet was already putting it back in his mouth. He settled back against her chest, humming happily. He had the best Gems ever.

“I told you he was fine,” Garnet said without reproach. Her fingers scratched gently at Steven’s scalp, making him melt even further. “You remember his last birthday, he was even younger then.”

“We don’t know how a Rejuvenator would affect a half-human,” Pearl murmured. Her words washed over Steven as he hummed, wriggling closer to Garnet’s wonderful hands. “You know I like to be careful. You know who he is.”

“Yes.” Garnet sighed, trailing one hand down to tickle under Steven’s chin, making him giggle. “I understand. But I think this is part of our wonderful Steven. A little bit of the past, every now and then.”

“I got the bottle!” Amethyst burst back into the conversation, stomping up the stairs two at a time. “Where’s the Steven?”

“Baba!” Steven reached out for his food-bringer, grinning so wide that his paci slipped out again. He frowned, reaching for it, but Garnet had it in one hand.

“You’ll get it back after your bottle,” she told him, and handed him over to Amethyst.

Amethyst hoisted him up in the air, and Steven sniffled, feeling unsafe with all the air under his feet. “Oh, sorry.” Amethyst put Steven down before he started to cry again, sitting down with him on her lap. She cradled him like a baby, which Steven wasn’t, but he was pretty comfy so he relaxed into her arms. “Okay, little dude, open wide!” Amethyst made lots of funny faces and noses while Steven drank the warm milk inside the bottle, making him giggle and spill milk down the front of his chin. That made Amethyst laugh out loud, jostling Steven in her lap. Garnet and Pearl sat on the end of the bed, watching them both with fond smiles.

By the end of the bottle, Steven’s eyelids were as heavy as big huge rocks. He was trying to stay awake, but he was yawning to much to even keep in his paci.

“We’ll still be here when you wake up,” Garnet said, laying Steven carefully on a pillow as Pearl untangled the sheet from the ground and laid it over him, tucking it in carefully on all sides.

“Yeah! We can play little Steven tag!” Amethyst said, shape-shifting into the same size as Steven was.

“Lil’ Steven tag,” Steven yawned. That sounded like lots of fun, he wanted to play now but his eyelids were so heavy…

“We love you,” Garnet murmured, and that was the last thing Steven heard as he fell asleep.

#steven universe agere #su agere #agere fanfiction #agere fic #agere fics #sfw agere #cglre #fandom agere #cglre terminology #steven universe #my fics

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Arcade

aquesion Summary: You can do one where Eddie has a teenage son and Richie thinks he doesn't like him?

A/N: this was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy!

An ibuprofen looked very appealing to Richie right about now. The tension building up in hos forehead and the back of his head led him to believe this was a stressed induced headache, and Richie has no issue pinpointing exactly who orchestrated it.

In all fairness, Luke, Eddie’s son, had every right to think going to an arcade was lame, but Richie was stuck with an eighties mindset and imagined the arcade being more like those times, instead of a sad, worn down building with a handful of arcade games and only five people present, two of them as old as the building they found themselves in. The man behind the counter to change money into coins creeped on every person occupying the machines, peering over his low hanging glasses and staring unabashedly.

Luke flipped the pocket money Richie dumped in his hands out on the counter, the stoic look not allowing one shift that would grant Richie the possibility of reading his emotions. He’s Eddie son, and so Richie mistakenly assumed that winning over his favor was a matter of hours, but the way their progress was crawling by, his favor might never be granted.

The money traits with a pitiful six coins, meaning a total of two games each, way less then Richie calculated in his head, and then creeper has the audacity to laugh at them, showing his grungy yellow teeth.

‘Four? I payed for way more than that.’ Richie holds his ground, recounting the aquesion again and concluding again that the coins he received are not enough.

‘More money more games’, is the only thing the man says for himself, the sentence probably memorized and routine.  

Richie bristles, he’s been on edge for the better part of the day, more than ready to take on some guy in a sleazy arcade who acts like he can effort to be indifferent towards his very unattainable customers, but Luke gathers them in his palm and waves of Richie’s protests.

‘It’s fine. Faster we’ll be out of here anyway.’ It’s the most he has spoken since their arrival and it’s to express his wish to get this over with. Good job Tozier.

‘Aren’t you a comedian anyway? I’m sure you earn a ton of money.’

Though it’s true, it’s still a rip-off, and when Luke turns his back Richie adamantly flips the creeper the bird, before scooting after his ‘stepson’. Supposedly, if all goes well at least, which it hasn’t up to this point.

The comedian part is the first thing Richie messed up, by resting on his laurels and assuming that he was up to date with what the kids categorized as cool nowadays. His whole target audience consisted of teenagers, aged Luke, and so he thought he had a few trendy points saved up to appease the son of the love of his life, but apparently not.

It wasn’t even like they spewed out the fact they were dating to him straight away either. Eddie took him on day trips every weekend since the divorce, to gingerly introduce the new parts of his father Eddie had hid away, from himself too, like him being gay.

When Eddie did come forward and came clean, he excitedly informed Richie that Luke was okay with his father being himself, but that he hadn’t mentioned Richie yet.

That was normal and Richie understood, he never pushed Eddie for a meeting despite gaining excitement the more information he gathered about him. In fact, Myra told him about the relationship out of spite and jealousy, to turn her son against his dad, but that backfired horribly.

Luke’s curious peeked about Richie too. About the man Eddie renewed his whole life for, but he must not have liked what he found in Richie, because the boy hanging out with Richie now is cold.

And Eddie warned him too, but Richie was too stubborn to listen. Gently bringing up the fact that Richie needed to tame down the over sexual jabs, especially in regards of Eddie’s mother. Richie brushed that advice off, mind set on the idea that Eddie loves his joke, even when he pretends he doesn’t, so Luke must find some humor in them too. Mission failed.

Luke’s hobbies consisted of painting and video games, and Richie didn’t understand the slightest about painting, but he did know a lot about videogames. Visiting an arcade seemed fun, a way to show Luke that Richie mastered the skill of triumphing in any computer based game, but the place he decided on was a dumpster, and the machines were likely not updated since the eighties.

None of it looked appealing, the dust thicker than Bill’s smallest book, so much so that even Richie shuddered at the prospect of touching it. Luke ambled between machines with his hands deep in his pockets.

‘See anything you like?’ Richie strikes up a conversation, nibbling on the pad of his thumb to stop himself from making another joke. Luke didn’t find his last one so funny.

‘No’, Luke says, continuing his path without even bothering to look at Richie. Richie wants to asks him if he’d like to go home, knowing for sure the answers is yes, but he doesn’t want to blow the only opportunity he may have to get to know Luke, so he toughens it out.

‘Oh look at this.’ Absentmindedly, he walks over to the one game he spend his entire summer playing, street fighter, and pins down the start button, the intro song emerging from the speakers.

‘This is what I impressed your dad with back in middle school.’

‘Somehow I don’t see how that would’ve worked out.’

‘I won all the time and your dad hated that he lost to me, so he fought me again and again, losing every single time and returning next day for another beatdown. It was a good way to hang around him without seeming suspicious.’

‘Maybe you were good at it then, but you’ve regressed old man.’

‘How about I show you how good I am at this game?’

‘Bring it on.’

They compete in silence, emerged in their own players actions and desperate to win from the other. Luke’s good, really good, with his little experience of this particular game he whips the floor with Richie.

Richie obviously can’t let that happen, so he opts to distract the boy the same way he did to others in Derry, in the hopes of coming out on top.

‘Really? And you say you’re a video-game expert, my grandpa can do better then you’, Richie eggs him on, delivering a punch to Luke’s character with a hard knock on the controls.

‘I sure am. And are you sure it’s not yourself you’re talking about? You know, because of how old you are?’

Richie gasps dramatically, releasing the consoles and clasping his hands on his chest while he gasp in faux-upset. Luke laughs once, then delivers the final blow to end the game with Richie losing.

Richie gapes open mouthed, beat at his own game, the end credits blinking by.

‘Guess I’m better than you expected huh.’ Luke’s laughing now, his frown relaxed in a gentle smile that resembles Eddie a whole lot.

‘Maybe we can go again and see who wins?’

‘You’d want that? I mean of course, let me go get some more coins.’

Luke blinks, his face back to neutral but at least he’s no longer frowning. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

#my writing #reddie #richie x son #richie as a dad #eddie as a dad #but just mentioned in this story #it chapter two imagine

[finsterhund]

Lunchbox puppy incident

One of my mother's favourite "little stories about my son being a stupid kid" to tell my friends, my family, random strangers I don't know, anyone who will listen, etc. is the puppy in the lunchbox incident.

This is the first time to my knowledge that I am fully explaining it. It's fucked and I hate acknowledging it but I need to get it out. It is something I hate myself for, I absolutely fucking despise myself for this. I was a horrible stupid awful child. And while I know that "no, you were just a neglected toddler" I am always going to hate myself for this.

Mom frames it as a cute little "kids don't understand things and do stupid stuff" tale but the actual context is sick.

The way mom tells it, it was that when I was 4 or 5 and we first got our second puppy I "played with her" by putting her inside a little red plastic lunchbox, and she had to explain to me that a puppy would suffocate in there. Nevermind that this is a horrific display of "toddler being left alone unsupervised with a vulnerable small animal" incident that should be seen as a form of child and animal neglect.

But the actual events make the whole thing worse.

For context this is a post-Spot incident.

I'm not going to give you the full rundown of what happened to Spot, as I've done so elsewhere, but basically Spot was taken from my life, torn from me, in horrific fashion because of my abusive father that has instilled lasting psychological wounds that I will take to my deathbed.

After the loss of Spot I immediately regressed. Became nonverbal again, severe nightmares, difficulty eating and sleeping, and daycare staff and doctors absolutely took notice. My current psychiatrist thinks this was the jumping off point that all of my childhood trauma is built on top of and is responsible, often directly, for everything from my abandonment issues to my depression. It's something I've been processing through this year for pretty much the first time in my entire life. It's been repressed so much that in late 2019 was the first time I started actually getting closure. Coming to terms with it and introspectively looking into it makes me realize just how many of my vices and rituals and everything have their roots in this.

To get back on topic, the one big problem is that people are able to see that something is wrong with the kid!!! Oh no!! And my mom decides that the best solution to cure the severe damage that her abusive husband breaking her son's deformed little heart by abusing and getting rid of his puppy is to... GET ANOTHER DOG ASAP...

Which in case this wasn't entirely obvious, is a really really really bad idea. Just in general.

I guess mom got it into her head the theory that a child young enough can just have their dog "replaced" with no lasting damage. Nevermind the fact that if a dog had died of natural causes it would be entirely different than the child still living with the abusive fucker who hurt the dog.

So she essentially negged my birth father constantly to be allowed to get another puppy. For the sake of "fixing" the problem that he was the sole cause of.

Less than a year after Spot this puppy is obtained. And my birth father forced my mom to name her something stupid because of how expensive she was.

I was then surprised with the puppy.

Now bear in mind, I'm still like 4 or 5 years old. So while I am cognitive, I'm nowhere near the level of intelligent functionality as an adult. You also shouldn't be leaving a child this young unsupervised with a tiny little shih-tzu puppy under normal circumstances either.

My immediate instinct to a new puppy in the house is to keep her away from my birth father. I wasn't stupid.

So I hid her in the aforementioned plastic red lunchbox. This made perfect logical sense to a child that was too young to know about things like suffocation. I had hidden toys in boxes before too. My first and immediate act was to hide this puppy so that they would be safe. I similarly would hide myself in dresser drawers, cupboards, boxes, under the bed, etc. Hiding things and hiding myself was how I coped with pretty much anything back then. There was a specific coffee table thing with two sliding wooden doors in the front that I was constantly hiding inside. This is also where the lunchbox incident occurred.

Fortunately mom realized what I had done before the puppy was hurt, and she tried to explain to me why this was bad. And like, when you're a tiny kid trying to protect a small puppy because your last puppy that is gone forever needed protection and didn't get it and you're told that what you did would have killed/hurt the puppy that you were intentionally trying to protect from being killed or hurt absolutely fucking tore my brain to shreds and I grew up traumatized of how I almost murdered a small puppy.

But it's just a funny little story to my mom that she tells to literally everyone without my consent.

She kept fucking bringing it back up like it's some sort of cute little story and not that I was literally trying to protect the life of this puppy at the age of FUCKING FIVE.

A constant reminder that I had nearly killed a puppy. In an incident that was my attempt at keeping the puppy safe.

So she kept retraumatizing me with "remember when you almost killed a dog?" for my entire fucking life and she gets to laugh it off as a cute little story while it makes me fucking hate myself even though it wasn't my fault that I was too stupid to know what suffocation was.

She fucking takes this incident of a poorly supervised toddler who due to a traumatic event mistreats a puppy and acts like it's just some sweet pure little story and I fucking resent her for it.

I don't remember too much about the incident, but I do remember the blind panic of making sure my birth father didn't see that puppy. How I HAD TO hide her. How she COULDN'T be seen. It was panic, it was terror, it was fear. I legitimately thought that something bad would happen if he found that the puppy was here. I was so convinced that he would hurt her. That something bad would happen.

I had nightmares that something bad would happen to her after that too.

So it just pisses me off.

Also mom's stupid little "haha remember when you got into comet under the sink" thing similarly fucks with me. Why is that funny and wholesome to you? That I got into a fucking BLEACH-BASED CLEANER because the environment that you put me in allowed me to crawl under the sink and play with poisons!?

I said on Twitter how she also only got baby locks for the sake of my brother and that speaks volumes. Incidents like the comet under the kitchen sink and the jewelry cleaner under the downstairs bathroom sink and the time I got crushed under my dresser she acts like they were "awwww remember that?" moments like... that was FUCKING NEGLECT.

Why was a toddler crushed UNDER A DRESSER!? FUCKING HELL.

The puppy lunchbox incident is an apparent example of how my mom just doesn't fucking know how my experiences were growing up and her insistence that everything was normal when it wasn't.

#text post #negative #long post #cw: child abuse #cw: neglect #cw: animal cruelty #cw: animal death

[sennokami]

parallelism - chapter 6

ao3

The first time it happened, Mito passed it off as a fluke. He’d needed advice and she was the only married person he knew who was close to his position. The conversation had been stilted but civil, and once it was done, Mito sighed in relief and let herself forget it happened. That was what she told herself.

Then he came back a second time, this time to drop off a bag of oranges. Mito had been alone in the house practicing her calligraphy and Madara was there, knocking on her door, holding up oranges when she answered. Bought too many, was his excuse. Doubtful and bewildered, she accepted his oranges. She ate them alone. They’d been perfectly ripe.

The third time, he came at night and his offering was sake. They sat on the porch and talked about politics in the capital while not looking each other in the face. He left once they exhausted the topic, leaving only ash from his pipe.

Mito, despite her misgivings, was curious. It was her natural way to be curious. Uzumaki genes, her father always said. They were all born with a double dose of nosiness.

It wasn’t like she forgot how their first meeting went; from the second they clapped eyes on each other, Madara had glared at her with so much hatred that she’d went to bed that night with a warding seal drawn on her wrist. After that meeting, they avoided each other until they found an equilibrium where they never saw each other except from a respectable distance. Now, he was suddenly trampling all over that armistice.

From what Mito could tell, there was a pattern to his visits. He always came unarmed, for starters. He always brought something. And he never came by when Hashirama or Tobirama were nearby. It didn’t make them friends, but Mito could see an olive branch when it was this obvious.

It was nearly midnight when she heard that telltale knock. Mito didn’t get up immediately, spending her time finishing her brush stroke, and he didn’t knock again. Only when she was satisfied with her seal did she rise and open the screen door for him.

Madara held up a bottle. “Plum wine.”

“I have cups.” Mito brought them out and Madara uncorked the wine and poured for both of them. They sat down on her porch an arm’s length apart.

The wine was good, at least. Mito didn’t hide her blatant examination of him while Madara steadfastly stared straight ahead, his mouth thinned and – shit, she was tired of whatever this was. Mito liked to think that she was patient but she wasn’t ever-lasting.

“What I don’t understand is why the hell you’re doing this.”

Madara stared at the pond. Hashirama had dug it out himself, saying now you won’t ever be far from the water, haha, and she’d laughed along with him. The pond was small, stocked with itty-bitty fish, and nothing like the raging whirlpools of her home. His expression was furrowed as if to prove that he really was concentrating on the moon’s reflection.

“You’re going to have to answer me at some point. Or else this can end now.”

Madara looked up at her, clearly annoyed that she wasn’t a member of Hashirama’s school of practice where men got to brood in silence and say one-word replies. “I’m trying to be better,” he grunted reluctantly. “To you.”

Mito arched a brow.

“You’re Hashirama’s wife,” he said. “And I… I am Hashirama’s friend.”

She wasn’t very impressed by the tacit confession that he would’ve continued to be an ass if she wasn’t married to Hashirama, but she wasn’t really looking for more either. She shrugged. “Alright.”

Madara cleared his throat. Oh. He was going to keep going. “And I am sorry for being rude. When we met.”

He really made simple conversation feel like pulling teeth. Mito considered taking the bottle and just draining it. “I don’t accept.”

Madara’s head whipped up. “What?” he said incredulously.

“I don’t accept your apology,” she repeated, tilting her tone the way she did when she wanted to mock her siblings without being obvious.

He opened his mouth, clearly about to say something sharp, but caught himself at the last moment. Mito enjoyed his visible struggle. “Why not?” he finally demanded.

Mito snagged the bottle and drank, since she was already dropping her manners anyway. “Because I don’t think you’re being sincere. Because you’re obviously trying to accomplish something. Because I just don’t like you. I don’t know what this is and I don’t really care, but apologies are supposed to be sincere.” Mito drank again. “So if you want me to accept, you’re going to have to try harder.”

Through the corner of her eye, she watched Madara’s jaw set. He was going to storm off now, she predicted, Madara was a proud, impatient man who rarely slowed down long enough to realize that he’d done something wrong, much less apologize. Her flippant disregard for his attempt was going to piss him off enough to make him leave -

Madara twisted towards her. He sat down in actual seiza, back straight, hands flat, and his expression as hard as stone. “I am sorry,” he said forcefully, “for treating you the way I did. It was disgraceful. I was disgraceful. You don’t have to accept this, but I want to at least say it.”

Mito stared. Glanced into the bottle. Madara, apologizing! She’d have to check the sun tomorrow to make sure it still rose in the east. Maybe one of her seals had finally gone haywire as her sister always predicted and Mito was in some parallel dimension. When Madara looked like he might continue, she held up her hand. “That was a little better. But – why?”

“I just told you -”

“I don’t buy it. You and Tobirama fight all the time and he’s Hashirama’s brother.”

Madara’s frown became a scowl. It pulled down his face, made him look older. “Do you think I should apologize to him?”

“You’re ignoring my point.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just feel sorry?” Oh, there was some bitterness there. Mito peered at him. Hashirama wasn’t slumping around like a sad flower, so they couldn’t have gotten into a fight recently. But wait – he was moping a lot more. It wasn’t post-argument moping, it was more…

“Your marriage,” she said, nodding firmly. Yes, Hashirama’s moping was more… existential. He only got that way when he met a problem that couldn’t be solved by smiling – or by strength. Of all the powers in the world to drive him into that state of mind, she could name only one. And he was getting married very soon. “Let me guess – this you turning over a new leaf? Become a new man for your bride?”

Madara’s expression flickered. He hid it impressively fast but Mito grew up on the ocean. She knew something about mercurial forces.

“The village… has to unify, if it wants to survive past this stage. And personal grievances must be set aside. It wasn’t the marriage itself, but it has. Made me think.”

Her father used to say that marriage always changed men. Some of them really shaped up, became actual adults that could be trusted alone with a seal matrix. Or they just regressed and became boys with a mother they were allowed to have sex with. Out of them, there was that small handful who looked like they’d rather be anywhere but there, hiding winces when they looked at their wives.

Mito dropped from her porch. “Spar with me.”

She could feel Madara’s stare burning a hole in her back. “What?”

“You said you wanted to apologize, right? Well, this is your chance. I was always curious, with your reputation and all, about what’d be like to fight you. So. Let’s go.”

“Here?” She heard Madara getting up. “Now? It’s not -”

Mito looked over her shoulder. No matter how reluctant his words were, she could read his body like a book. He was tense as a bowstring. “Please. I’ve always wanted to hit you.”

She’d spent all this time wondering why he kept looking anywhere else but her. No matter how much Madara tried to look submissive, no matter how much he apologized, he always looked in a different direction when he did it. Now, though, he was finally meeting her eyes and they told her all the truths his mouth wouldn’t. 

He was angry. Raze the land, salt the earth angry. That sort of rage couldn’t be put out by apologies and gifts. No matter what he said, he came here looking for only one thing and Mito was done and tired of beating around the bush. 

Madara snorted. The moon hit his face when he hopped off the porch, bringing out the blue of his hair. “Funny. I could say the same.”

Mito had just enough time to bring her arm up to block his overhead axe kick. It rattled her down to the bone. She slammed her knee up, but he caught it and twisted. Mito followed the motion, her heel flying and missing when he bent backward.

She begrudgingly had to admit that he earned every bit of his reputation. Madara fought beautifully. Like he’s dancing, was what Hashirama used to say, back when they were still at war. Did you see? Not a single motion wasted.

He drove his elbow into her shoulder. Mito punched him in the ribs. Neither of them used chakra as they fought. They said nothing. He kicked out her knee. She clawed his face on the way down. The moon witnessed them fight uncaringly.

Mito grabbed his fist but it was just a feint. He swept low and kicked out her feet. She didn’t collapse, catching herself, but went still when she felt his hand on the back of her neck. One squeeze and he’d crush her spinal cord.

That was fine. Mito hadn’t expected to win anyway. Her hair had come loose from its braid. His yukata was half-open from where she’d grabbed it. They were both breathing hard. She’d hit him several times and she was satisfied with that. He’d be bruised come morning.

“I know you look at him,” she said, still bent. “You’re very obvious.” Madara squeezed warningly. She ignored it. Madara was angry? That was fine. She was just as angry too. “You want to hate me? Go ahead. I would’ve married him anyway.”

She’d been nineteen, the same age as Hashirama. It was a match that made itself, one of Ashina’s daughters for one of Butsuma’s sons. It revitalized their old alliance, preserved their trade agreement, and any new Mokuton users would surely be half-Uzumaki. Mito read the marriage contract herself. It fucking made sense.

She didn’t stop there. “Honestly speaking, I have no idea why you’d get married. It has to be making you miserable. But then again, talking to me has to be making you miserable too. You’re trying to become a better man? Hah.” Mito laughed. Madara let her go. When she looked up, his eyes were bleeding into the Sharingan.

“You don’t even love him,” he accused. He took a step back from her, his hands clenched into fists. She imagined her blood on his white hands. He was probably imagining the same. “Ten years you’ve been married, and you don’t.”

“Cry me a river. I did what I had to do.” Mito stood up and fixed her yukata. She didn’t fix her hair. “You know, I think I get it now, what you’re getting at. You can’t have Hashirama and you can’t blame me like you want to. You can’t blame him either, because he always wanted peace with you. So you’re angry and you have no one to blame but yourself. So what do you do?”

Madara bared his teeth at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s right. You man up and punish yourself. How do you do that? By doing the one thing you never, ever wanted to do. You find some poor girl and you find a reason to marry her.”

“Shut up.”

Mito looked into his face. He was a hair away from breaking and they both knew it. She could back down now and he could pretend he wasn’t picturing her dead. They could go back to circling each other.

Mito curled her lip. Fuck no. Enough of the bullshit.

“You probably tell yourself that you’re doing it for a good reason. It’s for the village, or it for making things right. But you’re so shit at it! Even when you’re trying, you just keep breaking things. And you know what? I don’t care! I’m not the one who did this to you. You want to be unhappy? You want to be miserable? Fucking fine, go ahead, and do it the hell alone.”

“Shut up!” He lunged for her. His hands closed around her neck and that was it. Mito activated the seal that she’d prepared years ago after the first time she saw his eyes and the hatred in them. Chains exploded from her back and wrapped around his arms as her hands lit up, the seal matrix growing.

The sharp swell of chakra burned through her pathways and her eyes were being filled with red eyes with spinning wheels but fuck it all; Mito grabbed his stupid hair and kneed him one last time.

-

Tobirama reacted first. He reached the windows in time to see a swell of chakra from Hashirama’s home. A half-second later, Hashirama smashed through the same window.

The house was untouched but the back garden was ablaze. Hashirama smothered the flames, his chakra pushing away the smoke, and he found them both, Mito and Madara, collapsed in a ring of blackened grass.

-

“It wasn’t an ambush.” Tobirama sat down across from his brother, his arms crossed. Neither of them had slept a wink in the past forty-eight hours. “There was a bottle. Cups. They must’ve been already sitting together before they fought.”

Hashirama didn’t say anything. He’d spent the most of the last twelve hours assuring every clan in the village that it hadn’t been an attack, or the start of a civil war. The Uchiha were livid. The Uzumaki even worse.

“As far as I can tell, Mito used a seal on him. It seems to be a chakra suppressant. It explains why he’s still sleeping.”

Hashirama blinked hard. He never liked staying up but he had before, staying awake for days and days to fight or run or heal, and he’d never felt this way back then. Before, it’d been sleeplessness out of necessity, born from too much adrenaline. Now, he was so tired that he couldn’t sleep.

“Mito’s case is easier. Her chakra pathways show clear signs of disturbance. Probably he used the Sharingan on her just before she knocked him out. It’s all just recovery now.”

Tobirama was waiting for him to speak. Hashirama flexed his fingers and looked for the right words, but for the first time in his life, he was coming up empty. When he didn’t say anything for a long time, Tobirama sighed and put his hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” his little brother said. “Just. Go sleep, anija. I’ll take care of this.”

Hashirama let Tobirama guide him to the little cot in the corner. He laid him down, brushed his hair back, and tucked him in, and Hashirama closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The hours squeezed on by. He didn’t sleep. Below the earth, he felt deep roots groan.

-

Morning came in a shiver of gold, dawn’s silence split by birdsong, and he sat by Mito’s bedside, fresh flowers in the vase on her nightstand. Morning glories. They were her favorites. He’d once asked her why and she’d smiled her slow and knowing smile.

Because they’re blue like the ocean. And because they don’t last very long.

Mito’s face was peaceful in her sleep. She never had dreams. They’d been one of the first things she got rid of after learning how to tattoo seals on herself. She’d offered the same to Hashirama and he’d refused. It made his nights a lot less peaceful but that was a small price to pay to never forget.

Madara used genjutsu on her. From what the medics who’d already treated her could tell, it was a strong one to knock her out this long. Her brain activity had spiked abnormally, and then went low. Resting. They’d let her sleep, just to make sure the genjutsu’s aftershocks wore off, and now she was due to wake up.

Hashirama brushed his thumb over her smooth brow. Green chakra seeped from his hand into her head, soothing the aftermath of looking into the Sharingan. A minute passed. Her eyes fluttered open.

Mito stared at him for a few seconds, her pupils focusing, then she frowned a little. Blinked hard. “Hashirama.” She didn’t sound surprised.

“Good morning.”

“Ugh.” 

She sat up with a grunt, ignored his attempt to make her lay back down, and grabbed the glass of water that he’d prepared. She drained it quickly, then wiped her mouth. Hashirama watched to see if there was an unsteadiness, but she seemed to be holding out. Uzumaki were built tough. When he offered her the hair tie he was holding, she bent her head to let him tie her hair. She’d always hated having hair in her face.

Hashirama swept her hair up into a bun, careful to not pull out any knots. “How’re you feeling?”

“Damn awful.”

“Thought so. You’re cursing a lot more.”

 “Where is he?”

Hashirama hesitated. “In bed, same as you. He hasn’t woke up yet.”

“Huh.”

She didn’t look sorry. Hashirama couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. The years taught him a few things about his wife; Mito didn’t intend to regret a single thing she did, ever. Push her into a corner and she’d go down hitting everything she could reach. It was maybe why she and Madara got along so poorly. They were very similar people when it came down to it.

“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked gently. Technically, you weren’t supposed to push a genjutsu victim right after they woke up. It could trigger a resurgence. Hashirama, however, wasn’t feeling patient.

He wasn’t dumb. Or blind. Madara had always disliked Mito and she’d returned the favor. He’d always thought about trying to do something about it – make them spend time together, make them see how similar they were – but he’d just never had the time. The opportunity. Hashirama often felt like a little string holding together a team of raging horses that wanted nothing more than to run away from each other. It was always like this: he pulled the village together and Madara and Tobirama would start fighting. He’d paid them attention and Mito would be angry. He spent time with his wife and the village was on fire all over again. It was never-ending, a vicious cycle where all the important things in his life clashed. And he was just – he was just so damn tired of it. Was it too much to ask, for all the people in his life to just get along?

“Mito, can you actually tell me what happened?”

“Madara and I had a disagreement. So I finished it. We’re finally even now.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

Mito gave him a shrewd look. It was one of the things that Hashirama hated most, because all three of them, Mito, Tobirama, Madara, all of them, had the aggravating habit of thinking too hard and saying too little, right up until they reached critical.

“You wanna know why?” Mito handed him the glass. Hashirama went to the sink to refill it. “Isn’t it obvious by now? It’s always the same thing with him.”

“What is that?”

“You, obviously.”

Hashirama paused. The glass overfilled. Spilled over. He stared at the water running over his hand, thinking, me, me, Madara was talking about me, until he blinked and realized he should probably stop wasting water. He handed the wet glass back to her. He tried to keep his face neutral but from the looks of it, he probably was failing.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Look. It wasn’t – it wasn’t like he was ignoring it, or her. What he had with Madara, what they were doing with each other – it was complicated. Difficult. He himself didn’t know what he was doing half the time. All he knew was that he just. Cared. He cared a lot. He wanted to keep Madara close and Madara sometimes didn’t stay close and that made it even more complicated. Right now, though, what he did know was that he couldn’t sit down and spill his guts to Mito, because you couldn’t just tell your wife that your best friend getting married made you unspeakably jealous.

“God, Hashirama. Enough.” Mito put the glass down firmly. “You know what? I’m going to go say this now. Neither of us are stupid. The man’s obsessed with you. He’s always been.”

“It’s not obsession,” he protested, but Mito wasn’t having it. She leveled her finger at him. “You’re not helping either,” she said, low and accusing. Hashirama blinked, not expecting her to turn on him too.

MIto forged on. “I’ve been thinking about this – all of this. Where the hell did it start?” She began to tick off her fingers. “One, it starts with you two having another damn fight. Then, two, the Hyuuga come and Madara gets engaged to one of them.”

Hashirama bit the inside of his cheek, familiar jealousy raising its head inside his chest again.

“Three, you two stop fighting, but not really, because Madara just starts ignoring you instead. And you? You mope.” She made it sound like a heinous crime. 

He wanted to defend himself, but he couldn’t really find the words to. She was right. Mito usually tended to be. Fighting with Madara always made him queasy inside. Everything just felt worse when Madara was angry at him.

“He’s an idiot, but you know what? So are you. Both of you are just – just so damn stupid. You started this whole thing because you couldn’t leave him damn well alone and now he’s sulking about what that means, and it makes sense now, why you two fought for years after your fathers died.”

Hashirama’s head whipped up at the same time the floorboards under his foot cracked. He reigned himself in just in time before he did more damage, but the snap of wood seemed to echo. Don’t get angry, he told himself. She’s frustrated too. And she’s recovering from genjutsu. Aggression is common.

Mito didn’t even flinch. She’d never flinched when Hashirama’s chakra flared. It’d been part of the reason why Hashirama began to really like her back then. But this was still a low blow. She wasn’t involved. She couldn’t bring up certain things.

“You’re going to stress yourself,” he said. “Your mind was put under a lot of pressure during the genjutsu, you need to rest -”

He jumped when Mito slammed the glass again. It cracked. “Don’t you dare start with the medical spiel,” she snapped. “I watched Uzushio burn for seventy-two hours. I had time to think and you’re going to let me finish. Back then, I thought Madara was being unreasonable! I thought that he was the one who needed to back off! But no - you're the same. You know what this is? Both of you, pissing and moaning because you can’t stand being replaced.”

Hashirama rocked back, as if slapped. Replaced? He wasn’t doing anything like that.

He was just – worried. He was concerned. He wanted the best for Madara, that was all, he wanted him to find someone he could actually be happy with. He wanted him to be actually understood. Madara, more than anything, needed that. Someone who saw past his harsh face, who wasn’t afraid of his temper; someone who knew how kind he was, how good he could be, someone who’d feel every bit of admiration and reverence Hashirama felt looking at him.

“I live with you, Hashirama.” Mito swung her feet out and stood up. She had to grab the wall, but she raised her hand when Hashirama rose to help. “You should see your face whenever his marriage comes up. You’re always talking about Madara finding someone who’ll understand him, but really, you just want him to always come to you.”

He felt like he was balancing on the edge of an epiphany. One a long time coming.

“Mito, I -”

I – what? What was he trying to say? Somehow, I’m married to you was the only thing that came to mind. It was inane, it was off-topic, but it felt like he should be telling her that, telling himself that. They were married. He was her husband. He couldn’t afford to let himself think about what she was saying. But Mito was sharp. Had always been sharp. She could always see right through him, just like Madara, and damn it, she was right. 

Hashirama remembered being nineteen and scared shitless. He remembered the girl sitting in front of him, equally scared. He didn’t know her and he didn’t want to marry her, but doing it had been a little easier if he kept thinking about all the ways she was just like Madara.

Mito stopped in front of him. He blinked. When had she gotten there?

She put her hand on his shoulder and held on tightly. “Hashirama,” she said, her voice firm, “for all our sakes, I think you’re going to have to decide what the hell you want.”

“... you,” he said lamely. It came out rehearsed.

“I think we’re a little too old for that now,” she said, not unkindly. “Madara was right about one thing. We’ve been married ten years, and we don’t even have a kid to show for it.”

She was still in the papery little hospital gown and her face was pale, but she held herself proudly, chin jutted out. He remembered what he’d thought earlier: Uzumaki were built tough. And he’d been wrong, because she was involved. She probably had been since the second she came into his family. And instead of drowning in that storm, she’d  waded right through, her head held high. Of course. She was from Uzushio. She grew up swimming inside of whirlpools.

Mito left him there, like he was the patient and she was his doctor.

#hashimada #hashirama #madara #mito #naruto #fanfic #parallelism

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Ten)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

Author: Gumnut

30 Jan – 3 Feb 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 2555

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97 Well, anyone reading my Tumblr will know this part set me kicking and screaming and multiple headdesking. I got stuck and it wouldn’t write and I didn’t have a fun time. However last night I broke the first dam and this morning the second one kicked over and hooray, here be Part Ten. It should also be noted that somehow, Virgil is completely absent from this part. Please don’t hate me. This may have been why it was so hard to write - it may be my only fic bit without Virg ever. But he will be back, cos I have evil plans! Many thanks to both @scribbles97 and @the-lady-razorsharp for putting up with my extensive wailing and moaning and also for your wonderful support and help. And to all of you who have waited the extra few days while I kicked my brain into gear, thank you :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“So what are your intentions towards Scott Tracy?”

Em stopped in the middle of the path. “Excuse me?”

The blonde woman’s expression was mild, perhaps a little curious. “You are obviously attracted to him.”

“And that is your business, how?” Oh, god, he didn’t have a girlfriend, did he? Her heart sank. He obviously liked this woman, greeting her with warmth. But then, it had been Scott who had taken her hand and then there was Kayo. Em frowned. There was no way his sister would let her anywhere near her brother if that had been the case. “Who are you to Scott Tracy?”

That perfectly plucked eyebrow rose at her. “Nothing more than a concerned friend.”

“Who has what to be concerned about?”

“Ms Harris,” and the woman squared her stance with Em’s. “The Tracy brothers are a unique situation. Do you think you are up to the challenge?”

“It is Doctor Harris, and I don’t see anyone, much less a Tracy, as sport.” She spun on the spot and continued at a walking pace down to the edge of the cliff in front of the house. Hovering on the edge, she stared out to the ocean. It was still a stunning colour, its turquoise stained by the yellows shed by the sky. But her stomach was unsettled. What did this woman want from her? Was she being warned off? Was she a ‘friend’ who believed she owned more than she did? What did she want with Scott Tracy?

She turned the ‘scoot around slowly to face Penelope. “What do you want?”

The woman smiled. “Simply to ensure Scott’s safety.”

Em sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Then you’re failing miserably. The man nearly got himself killed a few weeks back.”

“Some things simply can’t be helped.”

“Really? Well, they should be. These men are not superhuman, yet they are attempting superhuman feats. Virgil and Gordon were nearly killed this morning.” She was still seeing that wave attempting to engulf Thunderbird Two.

The woman didn’t react. “It comes with the territory. The question is, are you prepared to deal with the situation.”

Em locked her gaze into those challenging blue eyes, advancing instinctively, her fingers twitching on the ‘scoot’s controls in her palms as she fisted her hands. “I have dealt with life and death my entire career, with no small amount of consideration for my own and my family’s. I can ‘deal’ with the situation, Penelope.” Screw the ‘Lady’ part of the equation, she wasn’t acting like one. “It doesn’t mean I have to accept it.” Her blood boiled. “As for my ‘intentions’ towards Scott Tracy. That is my business, his business and has zero to do with anyone else. Quite frankly, your ‘ladyship’, you can bugger off.”

Again with the delicate arched eyebrow. “I see.” Pressed lips. “There was no need to resort to profanity.”

“I will resort to whatever the hell I have to.”

“That is good to know.” And Penelope turned back towards the house. “Now come, my dear, we have a new guest to meet.” A sudden roar of jet engines and Tracy Two was once again on approach to the runway.

Em stumbled mentally. What?

A glance at the landing aircraft and another at the elegant woman walking back up the path. The hell? Was that a test?

She grit her teeth.

Turning back to the ocean, she forced herself to calm down. There was no way she was letting this woman get under her skin.

The waves lapped at the bottom of the cliff mocking her.

Too bad she already had.

-o-o-o-

Scott loved his grandmother. He admired her for her spirit, her strength and her character. But the woman knew how to curdle a grandson’s stomach, and not just with her cooking.

As they all entered the comms room, Sally was hanging off her guest’s arm like an escort girl off a playboy at a party, and grinning just as guilelessly. Not really the position of a respected elder. Fortunately, the man she was ogling had more than two cents between his ears and was treating her kindly, not a little smitten himself.

He better.

Scott was still unsure of what he thought about his grandmother’s relatively new relationship. She had expressed so much eagerness the first time she set eyes on the man. Virgil’s hero worship hadn’t helped.

Scott sighed. The man seemed genuine enough and kindly, but he set off Scott’s protective instincts, both on his grandmother’s behalf and oddly regarding Virgil as well. He swore Virgil regressed in age around the man. Even Kayo had commented on it. It was almost as if his brother had found his messiah or something.

It made Scott uncomfortable.

But the man checked out. Kayo and Penelope had reassured him of this on several fronts. He was an honest man and he appeared to have an honest fondness for his grandmother. He even treated Virgil like a tolerant grandfather.

Scott eyed Grandma still staring up into the man’s eyes.

It sounded primitive, but he better treat his family kindly otherwise he’d park Thunderbird One’s rockets on his head and torch him with her afterburners.

A gasp. “Uncle Crispin?”

The non-sequitur echoed through the room like a ricochet.

Kip Harris looked up in astonishment. “Emaline?”

Scott stared at Em who had just come up the stairs behind Penny. He turned back to Kip...Harris. “You have got to be kidding me.”

But the man’s eyes were only for Em, widening in horror. “My god, Emaline! What happened?”

-o-o-o-

Em stared at the only remaining member of her family. Her father’s brother. He was staring at her, shock in his eyes.

She became very conscious of being half the woman she used to be, of the Tracys in the room, of the eyes staring at her in surprise.

Penelope’s blue gaze.

Everything.

Oh god.

Something was stuck in her throat.

She wasn’t ready for this.

Her heart thudded in her chest and she suddenly couldn’t get enough air. She had to get out.

Now.

With the echo of a pair of worried blue eyes following her, she activated the ‘scoot, backed away, tore down the stairs and out onto the patio desperate to escape. There had to be a way...

There. She tore between the pam trees and out onto a path that led who knew where.

-o-o-o-

If Scott had been more mobile, he might have grabbed her before she could have run, but he wasn’t.

Instead, he turned to his grandmother’s boyfriend, eyes blazing. “What the hell was that?”

But the man seemed truly in shock. “When...how did she lose her legs?”

Scott blinked. “What?”

A hand landed on his arm. “Scott.” He looked up to find Penny standing beside him. “Follow her.” There was something in the woman’s eyes and her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s dealing with more than you know.”

His eyes widened and worry set in. With a glance at his grandmother who was moving to console Kip, he tore out of the room as fast as Thunderbird imPatient could take him.

-o-o-o-

The path wound its way around the edge of the island and before she knew it, she was beside the island’s runway, its parade of palm trees waving in the wind.

Each breath had become a sob. A harsh indrawn gasp followed by an incoherent whimper. She...it just...oh god....she should never have come. What could they possibly be thinking of her? What could he be thinking?

And to run like that. What had happened to her spine? Where was her strength? Why was she sobbing instead of snarling?

She let the ‘scoot drift, not caring where it took her, and not surprised when it collided with a straggly bush beside the cliff overlooking the ocean. Her eyes caught the waves far below, but they blurred with unshed tears.

And she was crying.

All of it. The accident, Scott’s injuries, her injuries, the loss of her legs, becoming friends with legends, travelling to Tracy Island, Virgil’s injuries, the cyclone and Thunderbird Two, Scott, his kiss, his smile, his eyes, his voice...

“Em?”

Oh, god, no.

She hid her face in her hands, desperately attempting to straighten herself out. Fear, mortification, embarrassment.

There was a hand on her arm.

And he was turning her, drawing her to him, reaching up to pull her down to his height, his one arm as strong as it had been earlier in the day, his broken arm, flailing for grip.

And it was his broken arm that caused her to give in. She couldn’t have him doing himself anymore damage. She couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

The ‘scoot dropped and he grabbed her. And she gave in, dropped her shields and let it all go.

Crying all over his shoulder, leaving tear stains on his shirt. But she couldn’t stop, it was just too much.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over her sobbing. He was holding her tight.

She shouldn’t be doing this. She should be strong. Em Bloody Harris...oh, hell. Another rush of tears. God, what was he thinking of her?

He was stroking her hair, combing fingers through her curls.

It was strangely calming.

Soft.

And finally she could hear him. It was a mantra. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.” One for each stroke of his hand.

Like a heartbeat.

She focussed on it. He kept doing it.

Her breathing evened out. It was lulling and she was exhausted.

He kissed her hair and she let herself simply drift in his arms. Safe.

Time hung.

“Em?”

She blinked wet lashes, almost half asleep, and realised what she was doing.

Oh god.

She struggled to sit up, to regain a modicum of dignity, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“It’s okay. Stay there.” He had his fingers in her hair again, soothing. “It’s okay.”

Her heart twisted, but she was tired of fighting, tired of keeping it all together. She let a breath go and sagged into him. He held her tight.

“I think we need to talk.” His voice was quiet and undemanding. Her breath hitched a moment, but she knew he was right. She owed him an explanation.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“Did you lose your legs in Perth?”

Her breath caught in her throat and it came out parched. “Yes.” She was glad she couldn’t see his face.

His grip tightened on her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time..” He stopped talking and resumed stroking her hair. “What happened under that building?”

And still she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want him to know, yet she had screwed it all up royally. Hell, half his family knew already and it wouldn’t be fair to keep him in the dark. But still she couldn’t say it.

A sharp indrawn breath. “What did you do? You came to me. You helped me. What happened, Em?”

There was fear in his voice. “I didn’t want to tell you.” Her voice was faint. She could hardly hear herself. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“My fault? Hell, what did you do?”

She had to sit up. She had to look him in the eye. He deserved that much.

He let her go and she straightened, catching her first sight of his worried blue eyes. She swallowed and forced her voice to work. “You were bleeding badly, but I couldn’t reach you. I was pinned. I knew that if I didn’t help you, your chances were not good. So I...got myself out from under the rubble to reach you.” He was staring at her in horror. She panicked grabbing his arms. “I didn’t feel it. It didn’t hurt. I’ve been a paraplegic for over five years. So I haven’t really lost anything. They were useless anyway.” At least that is what she was going to tell herself for the rest of her life.

He was still staring at her, his gorgeous blue eyes still horrified. She hurried to continue. “It was my choice. You couldn’t die. You and your brothers have sacrificed so much. I couldn’t let you die.” She straightened, grasping for that spine she had, the one that actually worked when she wasn’t a sobbing mess. “It was my choice.”

Still he didn’t say anything. A swallow and his stare continued, but she could see his mind racing behind those eyes. What was he thinking? His lips parted, but still nothing came out.

And suddenly she was in his arms and he was crushing her to him.

She gasped, the hoverscoot slipping out from under her, only staying attached due to her harness. Her weight was all on him and she was suddenly aware of his pounding heart beating through his ribcage into hers.

But most of all she was aware that the bloody idiot was putting pressure on his injured ribs and abdomen and if she didn’t move, she was likely going to hurt him. But she couldn’t get purchase and he wouldn’t let go.

“Don’t you dare hurt yourself.” She said it muffled into his shoulder.

Still he said nothing, just clung to her. She couldn’t see his face. She had no idea what he was thinking.

“Scott?”

No answer.

“Scott?”

His shoulders straightened under her and he was letting her go. She could feel his shields going up and when she was finally able to get her ‘scoot back under her, he had regained his composure with the exception of a sparkle in his eyes. She swallowed. He had called on the commander of International Rescue.

She still had no idea what he was thinking.

Had she ruined everything?

He reached out and took her hand. “Thank you, Em.” He looked down at their hands, his head shaking slowly. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for such a...sacrifice.” His voice broke on the last word.

She flared up. “You don’t owe me anything, Scott. It was my decision.”

“But-“

“No!” And now she was angry. “There is no debt. It was my choice, Scott Tracy, don’t you dare try to take that away from me.” Softer. “Please don’t let this come between us.”

Us. She shivered. Was there an ‘us’?

Something sparked in that blue. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Us?” He smiled the most alluring smile he had deployed on her yet, his eyes peering up at her through his long, dark lashes.

“Oh, you shit.” She thwapped him on his shoulder, just as he grabbed for her again around her waist drawing her in, his smile becoming a grin as she squirmed.

And then they were nose to nose, his eyes were sparkling again and he was kissing her.

There was something there that wasn’t there before, something passionate, something urgent, he needed something and she had it.

She saw stars as he took her breath away.

When he finally let her go, her head was spinning and her body reacting. Bloody hell.

His hand cupped her cheek and her vision was full of those gorgeous blue eyes again. He kissed her gently once more. His voice was little more than breath. “Thank you, Em.”

Caught, her own voice as breathless as his, all she could say was, “You’re welcome.”

-o-o-o-

End Part Ten.

Part Eleven

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #grandma tracy #sally tracy #scott/em #scott/oc #warm rain #gentle rain #penelope creighton-ward

[jessiebulby]

Regression (Part 5)

(previous / part 5 / next) Fanfic Master Post

Hi dear readers! I didn’t expect to do so many parts to this story, but oh well... Anyway, if you want more or have any ideas about what will happen next, don’t hesitate to comment or send me an ask!

"Now, we have to put the icing," Hunk instructed to the small boy who was making a cake for the team.

Hunk brought the bowl containing the icing near Lance and was about to delicately and precisely put the icing on the cake, when Lance put his two whole hands into the icing, took a big amount of it and just dropped it on top of the cake. He placed it messily and turned to Hunk with a big proud smile.

"Done!" The boy announced cheerfully. "It's gonna be sooooo good!"

Hunk laughed a little, even if he couldn't help but judge the amount of icing on top of the cake.

"Yeah, sure, buddy."

"I can't believe you didn't find anything!" Keith's angry voice sounded as the rest of the team was talking in the dining room near there.

Hunk couldn't hear much, but Keith was really upset. This was weird, Hunk never thought Keith cared so much about Lance. Or maybe it wasn't about Lance, but more about the fact that they couldn't leave the planet and continue fighting the Galra Empire if Lance remained in this state.

"Is Keef angry because of me?" Lance asked suddenly, his smile gone.

Hunk turned to look at the young boy beside him, surprised by his questions and his sudden seriousness.

"No, kiddo. Why would he be?" Hunk asked.

"I don't know... Papá is always angry at me too," Lance admitted, starting to lick the icing on his fingers.

It hit Hunk then that Lance had never talked much about his father. He loved his family and could go days just describing them. He cared about them a lot, Hunk knew that, but his father... Hunk didn’t even know his name. Had he... Could he have been mean to Lance or hurt him?

“Keith isn’t angry at you, I’m sure of it. Now, come, Buddy Boy, let’s wash your hands,” he told the young boy as he took him in his arms and put him just at the right level for him to wash his hands in the sink. 

Just when they finished, the rest of the team arrived in the kitchen. As soon as Lance spotted Keith, he ran to him.

"Keef! Fly, fly!" Lance demanded with a big smile.

Keith surprisingly smiled back and took the boy in his hands.

"Alright, there you go, Little Pilot," Keith said as he brought Lance over his head.

Everyone looked at them, taken aback by the Red Paladin's sudden change in attitude. Keith and Lance were smiling at each other, Lance's arms wide as if he was a plane.

After a few seconds, Keith dropped Lance back down to the ground. Lance seemed a bit disappointed, but Keith took the little boy's hand, and it seemed to appease him a bit. Children were like that sometimes. Lance had chosen his favorite person in the team. Hunk was a bit jealous honestly, but at least it would be easier to get away from babysitting him. He liked Lance, really, but being responsible of a child's safety was a bit too stressful for him. What if he hid in some place Hunk couldn't reach? Children were scary sometimes, always running to dangerous places and touching every single thing that caught their eyes, not caring if it was safe or not...

No Hunk was good entertaining the little boy for short periods of time, but babysitting was too much to ask of him. He was glad Keith had picked the short straw. 5 times... 

"Well, everybody, let's eat something and go back to our research, alright? We need to nourish our bodies so our minds stay sharp," Coran suggested.

"I'm coming with you this time," Keith said.

"Alright, I'll babysit Lance then," Shiro agreed.

There was a silent acknowledgement amongst the team. 

Keith dropped to Lance's level and took him in his arms. "You hungry, Little Pilot?" Keith asked, leaving for the dinning room.

"Keith making Lance ‘fly’? He will hate me when this is all done. Endless teasing for the rest of his life," Pidge laughed.

"Pidge..." Shiro said in his dad tone.

"Never thought I'd see then get along so well in my life," Allura said.

"Keith cares more than he seems," Shiro said, following the duo to the dinning room.

The rest of the team followed, helping Hunk bring food, plates and ustensils to the table.

-

“Why is your arm like that?” Lance asked, playing with the mechanical limb, curious. 

Shiro was sitting on the couch, watching over Lance as he played around in the lounge. Lance was a really energetic kid, that was for sure. And now he was really interested in Shiro’s arm.

“So I can be more powerful?” Shiro answered. 

“Sooo cool! What can it do?” Lance asked. 

“It can burn... It glows... It can open things,” Shiro said. 

“Make it glow!” Lance demanded. 

“Okay, but you can’t touch it if it glows. It could be dangerous,” Shiro agreed, putting his arm high enough so Lance wouldn’t be able to touch it even if he tried. 

Shiro activated his arm. Lance looked at it with admiration. 

“I want one like that too when I grow up!” Lance decided. 

“I don’t think...” Shiro started, as the boy settled against Shiro’s side, still looking at his babysitter. 

“You have white hair like an old man,” Lance commented. 

Shiro smiled at that. 

“Are you like a super hero?”Lance asked. 

“I... A bit, yes. The others and I, we save people and fight bad guys,” Shiro explained. 

“Keef too?” Lance asked. 

“Yes, Keith too... You like him a lot, uh?” Shiro asked. 

“He’s cool... And it’s fun with him,” Lance said, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. 

The little boy was starting to be tired. 

“Where is mamá?” Lance asked then, visibly tired.

“She’s at home, waiting for us to bring you back to her,” the Black Paladin answered with a comforting smile. 

“I miss her and my sisters and my brothers...” Lance said with a big yawn. 

“You’ll see them soon,” Shiro lied. 

Lance’s eyes closed then and he fell asleep soon after. Shiro didn’t feel too good with all this situation. They had to bring Lance back to normal. If they didn’t find a way soon, they would probably have to really bring him back to Earth. It was already unsafe for a child his age to be in the Castle on a shop moon. The longer they stayed, the more dangerous it would get. 

-

The next day, the research were fruitless, again. Where had Lance gone to by his own to have ended up in this situation? There was no lead, no hint, nothing... Pidge was getting really annoyed. She was a master when it came to finding things, but she really had no clue. They still hadn’t search all the market, but at this point they would have normally found something, anything! At least, Lance’s condition was stable, but they still had to bring him back to normal. Something was missing, and she would find it!

-

"No!" Lance yelled, furious.

"Shiro will be with you. You can have fun with him," Keith told the young boy before him.

"No, I want to play with Keef!" Lance said, tears filling his huge eyes.

That was bad. Keith had no experience refusing a child's demand. He really wanted to search the market with the others again, like he had been doing for every evening for the past two days. He wanted to participate in getting Lance back to normal, but now a part of him also wanted to stay with Lance.

"Keith, do you mind staying instead of Shiro tonight?" Coran asked.

Keith hesitated.

"Just this time, Little Pilot, " Keith finally agreed, ruflling Lance's hair a bit.

The young boy smiled wide. 

It ended up not being “just this time” afterwards, Lance always requesting Keith as his babysitter.

-

The team had been searching for 6 days now, asking every shop owner if they had seen or talked with a young tan boy with blue eyes. No one had seen him and they had visited every shop there was. This was ridiculous, someone must have lied to them.

Still, Keith remained the assigned babysitter for Lance. He didn't mind. It was fun. It was about 3pm Castle Time, when Lance finally fell asleep for his usual nap. If he didn't sleep in the afternoon, the team had noticed that Lance could become upset easily. And when he was upset, it was awful. He would cry and scream for no reason.

Keith was also on the verge of falling asleep. They were both on the couch. Keith was lying there, Lance on his torso, and watching one of Pidge's few movies from Earth that Lance could also watch. It felt so peaceful. Had his life ever felt so calm and full? Over the past days, he had gotten really attached to the young boy. It felt like he had a little brother. Keith had always been longing for family and connections, even if he was always isolating himself, being also scared of rejection. Shiro had accepted him, being a mentor, and then like an older brother. But Kid Lance had chosen him as his favourite person in the universe, he had said so over the past few days. Keith knew that this Lance wasn't the one he knew before, that he was just a kid who would forget everything almost as soon as he said the words, but it still touched him a lot. He would do anything to protect Lance. Keith's eyes dropped then, and he fell deeply asleep.

-

It had been a few hours, searching every corner of the market again and again. They were starting to feel hopeless. Maybe, they would have to think of the next steps to take. They couldn't remain on the moon shop for too long. Their allowed time was reaching its limit. If they stayed longer, then they would be in too much danger of attracting unwanted attention, which they might have already have.

"Allura, come in!" She suddenly heard Keith's voice through the coms on her earings.

His voice was full of concern, and so was Allura's heart now.

"What is it Keith?" She asked.

Shiro and Coran turned to her, their expressions worried.

"Something's wrong with Lance," he told her.

#kid lance #Lance #voltron lance #lance mcclain #vld lance #keith #hunk #shiro #Allura #Pidge #coran #VLD #vld fanfic #voltron #voltron fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #mini fic #Regression #De-Aged Lance #baby lance

[lordoftimeandspace]

Missy/Master and the Doctor - The whole bloody mess

(spoilers for season 10 finale)

Many people have argued quite differently about the Master, Missy and the Doctor and their motives and relationships. I have discussed it with a tumblr user in two threads (x and x) so for convenience, I collected the arguments here in one thread because I do have a few things to add.

The Master is an awful person, to the point of almost being a one-dimensional caricature of evil.

This is your conclusion so let me start here. The Master, in all the years he has appeared on Doctor Who is a lot of things but never one-dimensional. I'm not sure how familiar you are with his background so let me fill you in quickly. Mind you, I will of course only canon:

1. During their childhood the Doctor and the Master were bullied by a boy named Torvic. To save his friend's life the Doctor had to eventually kill that boy. Later a personification of death asked the Doctor to be her champion. He refuses and suggests she takes the Master instead as her disciple. She agrees and the Doctor forgets about the whole encounter. In canon it is the Doctor who becomes a killer first and then conveniently escapes responsibility for it by making the Master bear the consequences.

2. At the age of eight the drums were implanted into the Master's head and always seen as a sign of madness. The drums worsened over time. It was only when the Master forced the Doctor to actually listen to them, that the Doctor believed. So we have a little boy thinking he is not worthy being a Timelord (because why else would he “turn mad” when he looked?) and not even his very best friend even so much as entertains the idea that it could be something else.

3. Koschei (as the Master preferred to be called for a while) was on an academic research mission when the Doctor was expelled from the academy, forcing him into a conflict of loyalty. Again, it is the Doctor who is kicked out first. The Master follows on his own accord because after all they made a pact to see all the stars together.

4. Koschei was obsessed with order to the point that the Timelords planted a spy to monitor him. That spy, a Timelady posing as a human, became his companion. When he eventually found out about her true identity he lost a good part of the ability to trust anyone. Isn't it beautiful that the Master wanted companions, too? Companions, not servants, not “disposables”. And is it really so wrong that he would despise the Doctor's companions and insist that they themselves are the only real companions for each other?

5. Later the Doctor made a deal with Death to grant the Master ten years of peace and sanity. At the end of those years the Doctor was supposed to kill him. During those ten years the Master forgot about his true identity, took the name of John Smith, became a doctor and even had a stable relationship. If this is the Doctor's attempt to take responsibility, it really is rather poorly executed. He never asked the Master if he wanted that kind of “saving”. What are ten years in the life of a Timelord after all? Is the Doctor portrayed here as agreeing to a mercy killing? Possible. But completely without any consent from the Master. Also, isn't it ironic that of all things the Master, free from the drums and his past, chooses to be a doctor? That “good” is obviously in him.

6. The Master met Sato Katsura, a samurai who was accidentally made immortal as a result of his involvement with the Doctor. It had left him so bitter, he began to follow the Master. This is probably the most obvious moment of the Master picking up after the Doctor. The Doctor has always liked to use people however he sees fit, often not caring much about the consequences. An example from New Who would be the 12th Doctor making Ashildr use a device that kills her instead of trying a little harder to eliminate that possibility.

7. The Master was continually used by the Timelords and other entities to fight for them. He was deliberately turned into a weapon. The latest example of that is his resurrection to fight in the Time War but what he saw scared him so much that he turned himself into Professor YANA and ran away to the end of the universe. The Doctor however stayed and fought. Sometimes I wonder if this is cowardly running away as opposed to courageously doing what is right. Sometimes I wonder if the Doctor's tolerance for bloodshed, war and violence is higher than the Master's.

8. At some point he posed as the Doctor and began to work for UNIT were he helped them to fight off several alien attacks on Earth. Does it really matter that he posed as the Doctor? Does doing good only count when it is done in the “right” way?

There are many more examples but these should make it very clear that the Master is anything but one-dimensionally evil.

Let's look at some of your arguments about Simm!Master's character:

He told Ten to “get out of the way” because Rassilon was right there, in front of him - the one responsible for his ‘condition’. The intended catharsis of that scene was about the Master getting revenge on Rassilon. (…) It was something that happened in the moment and the status quo of his existence was restored by the Time Lords. (…) People don’t just change in a moment.

So even although the Master had tried to kill the Doctor before time and time again he doesn't do it when he can because shooting at the Doctor first and then at Rassilion is somehow not cathartic enough? Killing them both, the two people he considers responsible for all that went wrong in his life, wouldn't be the ultimate revenge? No, the Doctor spared him and so the Master spares him in return because in that moment the Master understands that his friend still loves him, that there is still hope for a future for them together, seeing the stars. Maybe it is not the huge change in character some people want to see. But it is a redeeming quality. The Master doing “what is right”. All by himself.

Likewise, time has passed since then. The Master went back through the gate with Rassilon to Gallifrey, the Time Lords made a mutual bargain to remove the drums from his head and fix his botched regeneration (…) He just continued with his old ways because that’s what the Time Lords enabled him to do, it was convenient for them to do that in order to get rid of him.

Sometimes I wonder what the other end of that bargain was. What did the Timelords do to him, or make him do for them to remove the drums? After all, they have used him all his life. Why change so suddenly. I think it is very plausible that the Master ran away again and hid on that spaceship (a “mutual kicking out” can mean many many things). Also, despite everything he has done, the Timelords still keep him around. Later, Missy isn't executed as ordered by the Timelords. They still need the Master for whatever future war they need a monster for. I can't even imagine what that does to a man. Going back to his “old ways” after once more being confirmed by the Timelords that that is all he is and all he can do is really not that surprising. After all, if they fixed the drums they could have fixed so much more. They could have helped him. Truly helped. With all their knowledge and wisdom. Instead they try to keep him as a convenient weapon.

The premise of the argument “the Master is not self-destructive” kinda falls apart because he literally chose to die at the end of The Last of the Time Lords instead of being at the Doctor’s side. The last two of their kind and he chose to die, not knowing that his ring would be picked up by Miss Trefusis and he’d later return.

Two things: 1. He chooses to die because the idea that the Doctor would imprison him and just “keep him” was so incredibly appalling to him that he couldn't bear it. It's not just for his own good or the good of the universe. The Doctor sees the Master as his responsibility, his burden. Considering that the Doctor played a considerable role in the Master becoming the Master, that is incredibly arrogant and self-righteous. 2. The Master has “died” so many times before seemingly without the ability to to come back. His mind has been in other people and objects before. Even if he wasn't entirely sure about the ring, he must have known (and said so to the Doctor before) that he is pretty much indestructible.

He sees Missy as such a fundamental violation of who he is with regards to her perspective on the Doctor that he chooses to kill his future self. That is who he is in extremis.

Exactly. He simply cannot agree with the fact the Missy has been changed so much that she would forget who she is and how she came to be. He hates that she basically turned into one of the Doctor's fangirls. He can't understand why she would regress so much in her development that she is barely more than the child they used to be, looking up at the Doctor hoping for guidance. Let's remember here that yes, the Doctor saved their life as a child by killing someone. And he put the blame on the Master. The Master simply cannot allow Missy to forget that the Doctor is not morally pure and superior. He cannot allow that standing with the Doctor on the Doctor's terms leads to their death. He'd rather do it himself. If anything, this was a mercy killing, just like the Doctor agreed to do with the Master many years before. Considering that the Master has survived many of his “final deaths” we can be sure that they will return. When they do it will most likely not be pretty because right now, she thinks that the Doctor believes that she has betrayed him and that he lost his hope for her and does not come after her once more. She might also believe that he is dead and blame herself. The Master's next regeneration could be the most messed up yet.

And there really was nothing at all self-righteous, self-victimising, or egotistic about the Doctor’s speech. It was about self-sacrifice, out of kindness. (…) the message was simply to just be kind.

The Doctor tries continuously to sacrifice himself. The 9th legion, the cybermen, … It's a compulsion. Makes me wonder why? Is it because he is so incredibly good (then why does he never die, only regenerate, when he does? Why is his sacrifice never real?) or is it because he needs redemption and forgiveness just as much as the Master does? The Doctor is consumed by guilt and tries to get rid of it by offering himself up again and again. That is not without reward and therefore not entirely and purely good. There is always an agenda behind what the Doctor does, especially when it's self-sacrifice or kindness. He always goes to extremes to prove that he truly is “good” even although it is only his definition of “good” that counts here. Good is only good in extremis. Only in self-denial and self-sacrifice.

I mean… the Master is a sadistic murderer. (…) The Doctor didn’t “force” anything on her, and, to be honest, what you want when you’re somebody who commits the kind of atrocities that the Master does on a regular basis really doesn’t matter all that much. (…) Your “leave their names out” argument doesn’t really work because that’s just removing the context from the situation. The Doctor has always been a flawed hero, but the whole thing with Missy’s arc is really not an instance of that.

It is exactly here that the greatest flaw of your perception of both Doctor and Master becomes obvious. We are talking about fiction so for a moment let's talk about real life. Operation Neptune Spear as sanctioned by then-President of the USA Obama was a capture or kill mission directed at Osama bin Laden. US-offficals have also simply called it a kill mission. The mission was accomplished in May 2011 resulting in the death of Osama bin Laden. Criticized as a “revenge mission” by foreign governments and organizations like Amnesty International, this mission remains controversial until today. The reason is simply that a criminal, no matter how bad, does have rights, that human rights are non-negotiable, that the crimes of a person do not make them less human. At the same time, acting as if a criminal has lost his human rights because of (past or future) crimes is morally incredibly flawed and honestly, simply plain wrong. It's not hard to see the parallels to the Doctor and Missy here. It does matter if there was consent or not and if there continued to be consent because Missy is still a sentient being with rights and the Doctor (with Gallifrey being back) has no authority whatsoever to decide otherwise. By locking Missy up and isolating her the way he did he violated her. He of all people who always thinks he is morally superior. He messed up epically here. Leaving the names out returns them to what they both are: sentient beings with rights.

She said to the Doctor that she’d be good, asking him to teach her how to be, and consented to being imprisoned for rehabilitation. Whether that was what she actually wanted at the start or if she was saying that to get out of being executed, that was something she made good on. She says as much that she could have escaped the Vault if she’d wanted to, but she’s chosen to stay and engage in the process.

Again, it is highly questionable if it was continued consent, or even just consent born out of an honest desire to change and not just desperate words uttered to save her life.  And yes, continued consent is a thing and it is necessary. Ask anybody who agreed to anything and then changed their mind mid-way through. It's one of the very obvious symptoms of rape culture to think that continued consent is not a thing. Besides, the difference in power between them was so huge by then that in order to keep at least some kind of dignity Missy would have probably said anything, including suggesting that she could have escaped the vault, something the Doctor clearly disagreed with.

It’s not just that Missy decided to stand with the Doctor… It’s that the reason WHY she decided to do that was because her whole perspective and understanding of him has changed. (…) she says to her former self “he’s right”. It’s not just about standing with her friend because she wants to, it’s that she actually has come to understand and empathise with his philosophy.

I stand by what I said in the first place. Isolating a prisoner and depriving them of stimuli is torture. And no, a few books and a piano are not enough to keep someone like the Master sane. Time and time again it was shown in studies and experiments that sentient beings, from monkey to human to most likely Timelord are social animals and lose their minds if isolated for too long. That alone, that isolation over decades must have worn her out so much that the Doctor could have planted any kind of philosophy into her head. He chose the only one he knew of course. Self-denial through self-sacrifice. Let's remember here that his self-sacrifice has always been fake. Doctors 10 and 11 regenerated after acts of self-sacrifice but it is just never real because he never dies. He always knows that he has a way out. Regeneration. And so his sacrifice doesn't mean all that much. He of course cannot see that and so he believes his way to be the “most good”, the only right way. And that is the way he tries to make Missy understand.

And she kills her former self, not just to get him out of the way, but to ensure, in that moment, that he will regenerate into her so everything will come back around to this moment - to make it happen. Without hope. Without witness. Without reward.

There is literally no reason to get the Master out of the way at this point. She doesn't know that he would shoot her should she try to go back to the Doctor. She could have literally shoved him into the elevator, sealed the door and send him back down. There was no reason whatsoever to kill him. Especially because she utters remorse about having lost herself, about not being how he is. She is not burning anymore and she knows it. Mind you, we do not know if she refers to her whole existence as Missy or just her time as the Doctor's prisoner. But even if she does kill him to ensure that she comes around to this point, isn't that a reward all in itself? Let's also not forget that the Master concludes from Missy not being able to remember her “birth” that he will regenerate in the very near future. He knew it and simply wasn't ready for it. Another reason why he wouldn't stand with the Doctor.

Conclusion:

1. The Master has never been one-dimensionally evil. If anything the Doctor and the Master are more ying and yang than black and white.

2. The Master and Missy never lost hope that they could be reunited with their childhood friend but they always wanted it to be a mutually benefiting reunion. A reunion that happened on both their terms. The Doctor continually insisting on it to be one-sided was too much for the Master.

3. The Doctor mistreated and violated Missy greatly and the Master could not accept that. And honestly, who would?

4. The Doctor doesn't understand that his so-called self-denial that does work quite well for him, just isn't the go-to-thing for everybody and so he screws Missy up and blows his reunion with the Master.

In the end Missy was right, she has always been on the Doctor's side. All her faces, all her regenerations. They were always his friend. He just always insisted that they be that on his terms and his terms alone.

#haruspis #doctor who spoilers #twissy #thoschei #masterfulxrhythm #heymissysofine #//help!

[agerefandom]

Safe and Sound (2.0)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Characters: Regressor!Stephanie, featuring Amethyst, Pearl, and Garnet as caregivers

Words: 2,000

Summary: A remix of this fic here but now featuring a transfem main character who goes by Stephanie or Stephie as a kiddo and uses she/her pronouns! Requested by anon. (Exact same story, just different name and pronouns!)

Warnings: Rose and Rose-centred feelings are mentioned, panic attacks, and quite a bit of anxiety.

Stephanie loved the beach house that she shared with the Gems. She loved the constant sound of the waves, and the calm glow of the warp pad at night. She loved the short and familiar walk to town, her comfortable bed, and the bathtub deep enough that she could submerge her whole body.

The only thing that Stephanie hated about her home was the lack of privacy.

Even when the Gems were away on a mission, they could warp back in at any given moment. At night, Amethyst often wandered in to get a midnight snack, and Stephanie was sure that Pearl still watched her sleep occasionally, even if she hadn’t caught her recently.

So when Stephanie wanted to regress, she had to plan ahead.

At first, she had retreated into her mother’s room, knowing that no one could access it while she was inside. But as soon as she stopped being careful about what she wished for, Rose was always there, stepping off a nearby cloud to collect her daughter into her arms. Stephie was happy to see her mother when she was little, playing and laughing and sharing her favourite stories. But at some point, Stephie always aged up, and Rose would change into a figure who was silent, and looming, and distant. Stephanie would retreat from the room feeling more exhausted than before, promising herself that she wouldn’t go in again.

Lion became Stephanie’s source of escape. She would pack a bag, hop on Lion’s back, and tell the Gems that she was spending the afternoon with Connie, or Ronaldo, or even Sadie. She had enough friends that the Gems never checked first, and then she had a whole day to spend in a field in Alberta, or Texas, or even France.

Lion would pace around the area while Stephie played, rumbling warnings at anyone who tried to approach. Stephie would run, and explore, and eventually sit down and cry until her throat hurt too much to continue. Often, Lion would come and curl against her while she cried, turning his head away to feign indifference as his tail wrapped around Stephie’s wrist.

Regression was only fun for a while, for Stephanie. Eventually, reality came crashing back in, harsher and bleaker in contrast to the bright innocent world she had inhabited for a few too-brief minutes.

Yet she came back to it again and again, not knowing a better way to escape the constant anxiety of her everyday life. She needed to forget about the most current threat to planet Earth, needed to forget about Pearl and Amethyst’s most recent fight. Needed to forget the guilt of walking in on her father crying over a picture of Rose.

Regression was a safe space like nothing else in her life was, ruled by uncertainty and continual attacks from outside and inside her family.

--

Eventually, it fell apart.

As Stephanie was expected on more missions, the Gems might need her at any moment. If Stephanie wasn’t where she said she’d be, then all hell would break loose as the Gems searched for her. She was scared that if it happened too many times, then the Gems would stop letting her leave with Lion at all.

So there was only one thing to do. Stephanie had to give up regression. There was no time or space for it in her life, she always needed to be available for Crystal Gem missions. It was alright that the others forgot she needed to sleep, needed to eat, needed to rest between missions spent running after corrupted gems.

Stephanie was a Crystal Gem now, and she needed to act like it. That meant no more running away to be a kid every so often.

Stephanie was going cold-turkey.

But of course, things didn’t really work out like that. Stephanie managed to hang on for two full months, hiding her panic attacks in the bathroom and trying not to fall asleep on the couch whenever she sat down.

At the start of the second month, Stephie woke up to the morning sun with tears already running down her face. Her clothes were too big on her, and her arms felt weak when she tried to move them.

Trying not to panic, Stephie looked down at herself and saw a young child’s body, twisted in the sheets and teenage-sized clothes that she’d slept in. She needed to shift back to normal-Stephanie before the Gems came out to see her!

But Stephie couldn’t stop sobbing, and however hard she concentrated, she couldn’t calm down enough to shift back to her usual size. Her failed attempts made her cry harder. What was she going to do? No one could see her like this!

Just as she was getting ready to truly panic, she heard the warp pad activate. Hurriedly throwing the covers over herself, Stephie tried to cry as quietly as possible.

The Gem’s voices were bright as they spread out across the house, Amethyst’s voice drifting towards the fridge as the others settled on the couch. Their mission must have gone well. Pearl sounded especially enthoused, but Stephie couldn’t make out the words through the pounding panic in her head. Any minute they would notice her, unless she kept absolutely still. She had to keep absolutely quiet, despite the way that her chest was spasming, and she couldn’t breathe, and she just wanted her paci-

“Stephanie.” Garnet’s voice drifted up from below Stephie, low and calm. “We’re home.”

Stephie twisted her fists into the blankets, making a renewed effort to calm her breathing. If Garnet thought something was wrong, she would know everything as soon as she thought to look. Stephie tried to make her voice sound normal, even though her body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh, cool. I’m just having a n-nap.” Her voice hitched on the last word, and she froze under the covers. There was silence for a beat, and then Pearl’s voice murmured a question to Garnet, too quiet for Stephie to hear.

“What’s wrong, dude?” Amethyst broke right to the point, and Stephie could hear her coming towards the stairs. She curled tighter into the blankets, prepared to wrestle them away from Amethyst’s grasping hands. But she stopped at the bottom and called up to Stephie again. “Stephanie? Are you sick? If you’re gonna throw up, I wanna see!”

“Amethyst!” Pearl’s voice was sharp until she turned her attention to Stephie. “Stephanie, are you alright? Do you need some food?” Stephanie had snapped at her about needing to eat breakfast a few weeks ago, and she had taken to offering snacks at the first sign of Stephanie’s distress.

“Stephanie is fine,” Garnet said calmly, and the other two made questioning noises at her. Stephie curled tighter into the blanket, confused. She wasn’t fine! What was Garnet saying? Was she lying, or did she somehow not know what was happening? “Stephie, you can come out and see us. No one will be mad.” Stephie whimpered. Garnet was definitely lying. She wanted Stephie to come out so that they could fix her.

“Mad? Why would we be mad?” Pearl was saying.

“Come on, Stephie.” Garnet’s voice was familiar, soft and certain. She always knew what was best, didn’t she? “You know we love to play with you. We always want to be with you, and spend time with you.”

“Of course we do!” Pearl’s voice was shrill. “We love Stephanie, she knows that!”

“Yeah, duh!” Amethyst added. “Stephanie is the best.”

Stephie couldn’t stifle the tears as they spoke. They didn’t know who she was, didn’t know what she was hiding. They would see that she was just a stupid kid, that she couldn’t handle being a Crystal Gem. Why did they have to love her? It wasn’t fair. They would have just left her alone if they cared less, and then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Stephanie?” Pearl was the one to climb the stairs, her voice alarmed. “Stephanie, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.” She scooped Stephie off the bed, blankets and all, to hold her tight. “Come on, Stephanie, stop crying. We’re all here.” She started to unwrap the blankets from around her, and Stephie panicked.

“No!” she shouted, trying to push Peal away. “No, no, no!” Pearl gasped, and then Stephie was on the floor. The blankets were in her face, wrapped around her neck, and all of a sudden Stephie felt trapped. She pushed at them, rolling on the floor, kicking arms and legs that were too small and too weak. She couldn’t breathe, but then the next second the blankets were gone and she was drawing in a breath to cry out again, the wailing cry of an overwhelmed toddler. “Leave me alone!” Stephie shouted, slamming her hands into the wood of the floor. “Leave me alone!”

Hands wrapped around him and she was lifted off the floor. Stephie wriggled against them, but they held strong, and suddenly she was cradled against the side of Garnet’s hip, held stable and safe against her. Garnet bounced Stephie lightly, practised and easy.

“Hush, little one,” Garnet murmured. “We carried you for years, you know that.” Stephie hid her face in Garnet’s shoulder, sniffling. She was exposed, yet protected. She was vulnerable, yet safe. She didn’t know how to feel or what she should do. She was starting to calm down now, so surely she should shift back to normal as soon as possible? Being big-person Stephanie seemed so far away and impossible, even as the tears and panic subsided. Garnet’s arms were so nice, so familiar.

“Do humans do that?” Pearl asked from somewhere over Garnet’s shoulder. “I thought they were linear time-beings and rather bitter about it.”

“Stephanie’s only half-human,” Garnet reminded her. “She’s special.”

“Can I hold her? Can I hold her?” Amethyst’s voice was as excited as ever. “Is she young enough for a bottle? I still have some of them in my room!”

“Nothing from your room is going into Stephanie’s mouth without a good wash first,” Pearl said sharply. “But I do have a clean bottle or two stored in my gem, if it would help,” she added to Garnet.

“Stephie gets to make the decision,” Garnet said simply, shifting her hold on Stephie so that she was sitting on Garnet’s lap, on the edge of her bed, looking outwards. Once her hands were free, Stephie put her fingers into her mouth and bit down anxiously, trying not to meet the eyes of the three Gems watching her.

“Oh, those are filthy,” Pearl admonished, and the next second Stephie felt her fingers being pulled away, replaced smoothly by a pacifier. The familiar pressure on her tongue made her relax, and she finally looked up. Pearl was smiling at him, her gem still sparkling from when she had summoned the pacifier. Was she not angry?

“What’d’you say, Stephie?” Amethyst’s face was suddenly right in front of her, eyes big and hopeful. “Do you want a bottle from your big sis Amethyst?”

“Amethyst,” Stephie tried to say, but around the pacifier it sounded like babbling. She felt herself go red, and bobbed her head in a nod.

Amethyst pumped a fist in the air and said something enthusiastically, but Stephie didn’t hear it because Garnet had put her hands over Stephie’s ears. Pearl looked angry about Amethyst’s outburst, wagging her finger and pointing to Stephie. She could feel Garnet laughing against her back.

“You have a silly family, Stephie,” Garnet murmured when she took her hands back. “But they all love you very much.”

“Sorry, Stephie,” said Amethyst, looking contrite. “I forgot you were little for a second.”

“Baba!” Stephie managed around her paci, making grabby hands. Wasn’t Amethyst going to feed her?

“Coming right up!” Pearl sing-songed, dropping a kiss on Stephie’s forehead before summoning a shiny bottle out of her gem with a wave of her hand. She passed the bottle to Amethyst, who did a front-flip off the bed, landed on the couch, and bounced all the way to the kitchen with one more jump.

“Oooh!” Stephie clapped for her, laughing.

“Amethyst, use the stairs!” Pearl sighed, before kneeling down in front of Stephie. “Hello, Stephie,” she said gently. “Do you remember me?”

“Pearl!” Stephie tried around her paci, and Pearl beamed at her.

“That’s right!” She tapped the end of Stephie’s nose, and Stephie giggled. “Now, what did you eat for breakfast yesterday?”

Stephie let the paci fall from her mouth, barely noticing Garnet catch it. “Donuts!” she told Pearl proudly. “Walk all the way!”

“You do eat a lot of donuts! Who gives you the donuts?”

“Sadie!” Stephie was bouncing on Garnet’s lap, giggling. “And Lars!”

“Good job!” Pearl produced a star sticker from what seemed like nowhere and pressed it to the front of Stephie’s too-big shirt. “You’re a very smart little human.”

“Uh-huh!” Stephie looked around for her paci, but Garnet was already putting it back in her mouth. She settled back against Garnet’s chest, humming happily. She had the best Gems ever.

“I told you she was fine,” Garnet said without reproach. Her fingers scratched gently at Stephie’s scalp, making her melt even further. “You remember her last birthday, she was even younger then.”

“We don’t know how a Rejuvenator would affect a half-human,” Pearl murmured. Her words washed over Stephie as she hummed, wriggling closer to Garnet’s wonderful hands. “You know I like to be careful. You know who she is.”

“Yes.” Garnet sighed, trailing one hand down to tickle under Stephie’s chin, making her giggle. “I understand. But I think this is part of our wonderful Stephanie. A little bit of the past, every now and then.”

“I got the bottle!” Amethyst burst back into the conversation, stomping up the stairs two at a time. “Where’s the Stephanie?”

“Baba!” Stephie reached out for her food-bringer, grinning so wide that her paci slipped out again. She frowned, reaching for it, but Garnet had it in one hand.

“You’ll get it back after your bottle,” Garnet told her, and handed her over to Amethyst.

Amethyst hoisted him up in the air, and Stephie sniffled, feeling unsafe with all the air under her feet. “Oh, sorry.” Amethyst put Stephie down before she started to cry again, sitting down with Stephie on her lap. She cradled her like a baby, which Stephie wasn’t, but she was pretty comfy so she relaxed into Amethyst’s arms. “Okay, little lady, open wide!” Amethyst made lots of funny faces and noses while Stephie drank the warm milk inside the bottle, making her giggle and spill milk down the front of her chin. That made Amethyst laugh out loud, jostling Stephie in her lap. Garnet and Pearl sat on the end of the bed, watching them both with fond smiles.

By the end of the bottle, Stephie’s eyelids were as heavy as big huge rocks. She was trying to stay awake, but she was yawning to much to even keep in her paci.

“We’ll still be here when you wake up,” Garnet said, laying Stephie carefully on a pillow as Pearl untangled the sheet from the ground and laid it over her, tucking it in carefully on all sides.

“Yeah! We can play little Stephie tag!” Amethyst said, shape-shifting into the same size as Stephie was.

“Lil’ Stephie tag,” Stephie yawned. That sounded like lots of fun, she wanted to play now but her eyelids were so heavy…

“We love you,” Garnet murmured, and that was the last thing Stephie heard as she fell asleep.

#my fics #remix time!

[finsterhund]

Finsterhund’s 2017 Summary of Art (and by extension, the rest of my life)

I’d be lying if I said that 2017 wasn’t an incredibly difficult year for the easily excitable finsterhund but it was also a very productive year for my art. I’m not going to deny that. A lot of issues came about that pushed me really hard, and I did break, but I mended too. I grew stronger in some ways. My writing took a nosedive and I’m not sure how to repair that, but my art, well... this is the first time I’ve ever done one of these. That should speak for itself.

In some months it was difficult to pick which one. I decided against choosing ones that may have been partially rotoscoped (such as my reaction images and most memes) and also because I tend to draw too similar to reference images I use. So no redraws of blurry HoD concept art or stuff.

January: [x]

This was supposed to be the picture for holidays 2016 but I’m a lazy earth boy who must’ve been slacking off because I finished and posted it right on January first! I remember at the time I was really proud of this one, and spent a lot of time on it. It was drawn traditionally and then scanned and digitized in GIMP... yes gimp. Fishy loved it and that made me happy. Nowadays I can pick apart so many flaws, especially in Andy. The lines look so shaky! Maybe I’ll redraw it for January 1st 2018! Assuming I don’t slack off again.

February: [x]

It was hard picking one from this month because I didn’t really like my drawings from then. Here’s art in paint of Red Spot eating a burger. I used to draw him with food when I was hungry for a while. Mmmmmm borger.

March: [x]

This is the month things started to take a nosedive. There was lots of good things happening, but some bad stuff too. A few new problems arose, but at the time the biggest was I found out my birth mom was being evicted and I would have to help her clear the old house. THAT old house. I retreated heavily into my artistic comforts and drew a lot of pictures of Red Spot being comforting and supportive to Andy. Red was created for that purpose after all, and Andy being a character I so closely identify with ended up being the comfort I needed especially then. Despite its crudeness in ms paint I do love this picture and should redraw it in Sai at some point.

April: [x]

The trials I had to face were unreal this month. The Wannabe War(tm) is well underway, and the time to return to the old house rapidly approached. I drew like there was no tomorrow, and these paint pictures were the best. Smoother lines, and more detail. When the time came to face that house things got ugly. Mom hid that my dog Jack had been dead for over half a year and broke the news only when I became distraught when I arrived and he didn’t come when I called him. My fixation on the “monkey’s paw” that was ruining everything I ever wished for started around here, and I kept breaking down. Bad regressing back to before I left that place happened. But something else did too. I DIDN’T. STOP. DRAWING. I drew more and more. Choosing to bring my laptop allowed me to make more pictures. A lot of Red Spot and Andy comfort ones, some mean little immature vent comics, and memes. Lots of memes. I was able to do the job I went there to do and returned home exhausted but VICTORIOUS. My art? Well I think I actually improved a lot then. It was predominantly due to surviving in spite of everything and the sheer volume of cruddy little paint drawings. I didn’t want to pick a mean comic and already had one ms paint Andy and Red picture in this line up so here’s a surprisingly detailed xenomorph queen being licked by a prequel era character who is a massive spoiler. Not only were both characters very complicated to draw, but I’m genuinely shocked I was able to draw an xenomorph at all.

May: [x]

After the painful embarrassment of April I tried really hard to relax. I was still really scared and anxious about the Wannabe incident, but it had more or less turned into a post-arms race stalemate where he wasn’t really doing anything and I just had my weapons of mass destruction pointed at him with my grubby little orange paw over the launch button which is where things have been ever since. My art took a relaxation break, but it was still steadily getting better. Late May I wanted to come up with a reason to actually celebrate my birthday (June 3rd) so I did a silly little “June is International Heart of Darkness month” post featuring Red and Andy sharing a slice of chocolate cake. I went on to say that June 3rd was “International draw heart of darkness fan art” day (real smooth you egocentric mutt) but I thought it’d be a good way to actually celebrate the day but make it about the video game that gave me a reason to live another year instead of about me aging, as I openly hate that I grow older.

June: [x]

A few of my friends drew HoD stuff this month, but a lot of my friends were busy due to jobs, school, life, etc. We used to be a lot more active in 2015 and even in 2016 so this did hit me pretty hard. As a result, I become very frustrated and out of spite decide it’s finally time to test my “new toy.” I don’t remember when Kale actually gave me his old tablet, but in June I finally install its drivers, get a copy of paint tool sai, and draw a lot with it. At first I hate these pictures and go back to paint whenever possible. There’s something wrong with my copy of sai and windows 10 doesn’t like the drivers. But I push myself, and I start to make more pictures of Andy, Whisky, Red Spot, etc. Not a lot of my early Sai pictures ever got posted or even made it past the inking stage, but one night I just couldn’t sleep so I drew Andy cradled in the crook of Red’s wing and got it to the flat colors stage.

July: [x]

I try to calm down. it’s a good month I think. Not much happens. It’s the month I finally give myself a new fursona. I decided that Red Spot isn’t “me” and I can’t use Andy in furry communities so I come up with a solution. It... it’s just Andy as a doberman. It’s a little orange doberman that wears a red bandanna and Andy’s hat... Doberman Andy. But he’s cute, and I can draw him, and so I do draw him. And he helps me get better at drawing in Sai.

August: [x]

The month of the solar eclipse! Me and my friend were going to go down to the US to see it together and... nope... that plan fell through. It makes me a brat, but that’s okay because I can just draw six hundred thousand drawings of Andy. That’ll help me feel better. I ended up having a sabbatical from my blog after some people on tumblr began to bother me and I put up a drawing of Andy’s shoe so nobody could go in. This is an MS Paint picture! Sadly, I’ve stopped really drawing in the program. I like how I did Andy’s face even if his hat and hair weren’t the best.

September: [x]

I return from my sabbatical and begin to spam my tumblr with Andy drawings I’m making in paint tool sai. The quality and style of Andy in these pictures varies drastically as I try a whole manner of new things. At one point I make a post that has five color pictures of Andy in it. It’s slowly becoming difficult to pick which picture I wanted to put here. Not because I didn’t like any, but because I liked too many. SMOL Andy was probably my favourite of the bunch. I made him more chibi and cute than I normally do. It was on accident but I thought he was too cute to go back and make him more on-model.

October: [x]

I was supposed to do an Andy version of Inktober but I guess the extreme amount of Andy pictures was a September thing because I burned out relatively quickly. I had some drama involving a prototype disc and also ended up having to pay way too much extra money every month until further notice but it’s a relatively calm month all things considering. The way I drew Andy in this art isn’t particularly stellar, but I love what I did with Red’s mouth and nose. I wanted to show that the way I draw Red improved too.

November: [x]

My chronic pain gets worse for no good reason, I get a very disturbing creeper threatening me online, and I’m generally depressed, but I’m drawing. That’s good. I start a new revolutionary technique when I rely almost entirely on the cinematics as reference and don’t reference other cartoon styles whenever I can when it comes to drawing Andy. I enjoy the result. Drawing him in a cute penguin-themed suit made my day. It was so hard to decide which one to pick this month. I loved so many of them.

December: [x]

Like November, but somewhat better I think. I’m still drawing Andy a lot, with Red coming along for the ride too. This one I tried to draw Andy in a more Disney-like style. I love how I did his face and freckles. The drawing of Whisky from the same post is great too. I look at a lot of my newer drawings and feel genuinely pleased with the result. I think I actually am improving, and whilst I think it is due a lot to getting sai and a tablet, it can also be because I’m becoming more skilled and getting more practice as well. Lets hope the new year brings us smooth sailing, lots of fun, and happy times our way. HoD will be 20 in 2018 and I’m ready to bring the subject of my love and joy a great two decade celebration.

#summary of art #2017 summary of art #my art #long post