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littlespidermonkey · 4 months

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I think in the universe where the Cullens aren't in Forks, Bella Swan takes a while to come out of her shell, but when she does, she's witty and passionate and smart as a whip, even if she's still quiet and reserved. She sits with Jessica Stanley, who demands the best of everyone, and tells her friends about her boyfriend down on the rez, who is sweet and caring and funny and good with his hands, who works for everything he's ever had.

After class, during a sleepover, Bella whispers to tell Angie and Jess about the night after prom, even though her father, loving and careless, worries about her only a normal amount and loves Jacob Black like his own. When she gets into Dartmouth--all by herself, through study sessions in garages and with Jessica and in Angela's house--she chooses to go to Stanford instead. She misses the heat and light on her skin, even after falling in love with the rain. Jessica comes with her; Angela and Eric go to U of Washington in Seattle instead, for education and journalism respectively.

Bella makes sure to call every week and then one day she drives down to Seattle and her boyfriend, warm like the sun she loves and at least twice as reliable, becomes her fiancé. The ring isn't especially big or ornate or pricey, but the way she smiles could trick anyone into thinking that it was. All of her friends, new and old, are waiting at the small party afterwards, and Bella laughs the entire time. The engagement cake--chocolate, her favourite--is sweet and moist against her tongue.

She moves back to Forks once she gets her masters in information sciences and becomes the town's librarian. She gets married a month before the move, barefoot in the surf and her old prom dress, both her parents weeping with joy and Billy Black beaming damn near as bright as his son, Sue Clearwater holding his hand.

She raises her kids --both beautiful children, blessed with Jake's thick, long hair--with Angela and Eric's and takes them down to Los Angeles to visit their auntie Jess and her husband Quil, who lavishes them with gifts from her career as a top surgeon. She jokes about having to support Quil's career as an environmental lawyer and displays each and every one of his wins alongside her diplomas. When William Black II decides he wants to be a doctor too, she writes him a shining letter of recommendation to her alma mater. Sarah, who has always been the spitting image of her father, joins and eventually takes over Jacob's mechanic shop.

On occasion, Bella fights with Jacob, even though he's the love of her life. Despite this, she is never afraid of him, and he never stops her from doing what she wants. Instead, he goes out and works on his cars and comes back in an hour later with slightly greasy hands and a bouquet of flowers from Emily Young's little garden, planted to celebrate her cousin Leah Uley's wedding. Bella makes him muffins, recipe courtesy of Sue and missing bites courtesy of Seth, Colin, Sarah, Will, and Claire, with raspberries, not blueberries, just how Jake likes them. They make up, and they make changes, and they go on.

Eventually, both slower and quicker than she realizes, Bella gets old. She lives in fear of losing herself, of losing her husband and her children, like her grandmother had. But she remembers her grandkids to the very end, even gets to meet her first great-grandchild a week before it happens. Her heart gives out before her brain does, too weak and too slow.

It was too full of love, the letter from Jacob says. Sarah reads it. Her father passed a day after his wife--simply too heartbroken to live without her. Much of the town of Forks and hordes of family attend their funeral, remembering a life well lived.

It is an unremarkable life, in the grand scheme of things. She does not live to be a thousand; she is no great beast, with speed like the wind and strength; she does not discover her powers or lead a great defiance. Bella Black, happy and human and surrounded by love, could never imagine wanting anything else.

#lee's wild scribbles #team jacob #twilight saga #jacob x bella #swanblack #tw: food #OK! that's all the tags for searching so now it's time for the really important tags: me rambling #this was extremely stream of consciousness pls be nice #it was also supposed to come with a lil video like my other little ficlet for this fandom but tumblr wasn't feeling it #also i have not edited this and i'm not going to so if you see a typo you keep that shit to yourself #this was written kind of as a reflection on how bella lowkey chooses to sacrifice so much of what makes life good to me in favour of edward #and how she like. gives up her personhood and future to be his and has no friends outside of the cullens and jake #(who is essentially being held hostage by reenactment)#twilight has such a weird relationship with f3minism. i should write about that at some point #(also this is not tikt0k. i censor words so that they don't turn up in tags bc i doubt ppl in the f3minism tag are looking for twilight fic

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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(from the same universe as this and this but idk if it can be considered a continuation per se)

Jonathan frowns. “Can you at least talk to him? Like—give him some hope for the future. I think he’s really worried.”

“Well, that’s gonna be a little complicated,” says Eddie slowly. “I can’t tell him it all worked out for me, because it didn’t. It’s not all worked out. I can’t even tell him it usually works out, because…fuck, Jon.”

Eddie’s quiet for a little while, trying to fish words out of the white-water rapids in his head. There’s a lot of stuff that he just knows without knowing, and it’s not until he has to explain himself that he can put human language around it.

“I never saw anyone like us over thirty,” he says, finally. “Maybe even less. I don’t even know all that many people like—like me and Will, but. It’s not just the virus, you know? It’s not even the odds of getting jumped on the street if you’re not careful. It’s…a guy I know out in the Twin Cities got kicked out of his apartment because someone told the landlord about him. Haven’t heard from him lately, I think he was sleeping rough for a while. Got another friend who was a teacher in Des Moines until the school board found out. Don’t know what he’s going to do for money now, I don’t guess he can get another job anywhere near kids. There’s a lot of ways shit can break bad, for us. I don’t want to lie to Will about that. Doesn’t feel right to sugar-coat it.”

“Christ,” says Jonathan. “That’s…really fucking depressing, man.”

Eddie shrugs. “I dunno. There’s good stuff too. Will’s lucky, he’s got you in his corner and he’s a smart kid. If anyone’s gonna be okay, it’ll be him. I just—I don’t know what that’s gonna look like.”

“Eddie.” Jonathan puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and gives him one of those searching, soulful looks, intense enough to make Eddie briefly consider having a hopeless crush on Jonathan instead, just for a change of pace. “You’ve got us in your corner, too. You’re gonna be okay too, I promise. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Hell yeah, bring it in, my dudes,” says Argyle, and sweeps them both up in a bear hug. If Eddie’s eyes are a little damp and red when they finally let go, nobody says a word about it.

———

“I think you should talk to Murray,” Jonathan tells him, the next day.

“Who the fuck is Murray,” says Eddie.

“Oh,” says Jonathan. He stares up at the ceiling for a minute. “Shit, I forgot you don’t know about him. I mean. That makes sense.”

“So, are you going to tell me who Murray is, or do I start guessing? Tennis coach. Line cook at the diner. Argyle’s dead uncle and we’re going to do a seance.”

“Ohhh man, we should do a seance,” says Argyle. “Let’s get our ghosty-ghost on.”

“Shit, yes. I think I’ve got some candles somewhere.” Eddie sits up, glancing around his room. He’s pretty sure he’s got enough stuff to pull off some real spooky shit at short notice.

“No, no, wait,” says Jonathan. “Murray’s like. This guy who lives in a bunker out in the middle of nowhere and helped us with monster stuff a while ago. He’s, like, a really intense doomsday prepper.”

“And I should talk to him because…”

Jonathan makes a face. “I guess I don’t know for sure, but—I think he’s gay? And he’s old. Over thirty, I mean. And you said you’d never met anyone who was gay and old, so, you should talk to him.”

“Okay,” says Eddie. “I’m going to list all the reasons why I’m not going to do that. There will be at least six and a half reasons but I might think of more as I go, so buckle in.”

———

“Nice jacket,” says Murray. “Is it anti-conformist enough, or do you need to write REBEL on your forehead to make sure people really get your whole vibe?”

#cw: discussion of homophobia #PLEASE NOTE THAT OP IS OVER 30 #the whole POINT is that it's not very old #I've decided that the probably-inevitable misreading is worth trying to express something about visibility and intergenerational connection #bc I guess this is now a series about queer mentorship sort of #I don't know!! mostly I just wanted to throw Murray into the mix!!#...I should also probably come up with a title/tag at some point huh #fic: young man what do you wanna be

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frozenjokes · 2 months

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An Extremely Dangerous, Incredibly Bloodthirsty, Unimaginably Terrifying Sleeping Bag

Humans were damn clever, and Mumbo was starting to think this might be a cause for concern. When he woke up, as in really woke up in the morning, not just stolen moments of consciousness throughout the night, he had a new splint and no idea how it had gotten there. There was no conceivable way the humans would have been able to maneuver something like this on him, even asleep- he would have noticed even if his entire bottom half didn’t feel like bursting into flames every time he moved it.

Mumbo wasn’t.. He wasn’t angry or anything. Really confused, yes, a bit unnerved, certainly. But he.. What Scar was doing, that was for him. The splint itself was extremely impressive; the thing was hardy, the materials much stronger than what mermaids used, but most fascinating, the parts were smooth. No pokey bits or rough edges; something like this would be incredibly expensive in the deep. Mumbo had more than a few chaffed and sore scales because of it. The parts where they attached too, the leather bases at his waist and most of the way down his tail, they were padded. Tight, yes, but they looked adjustable? Yes, they were, Mumbo remembered vaguely Scar fiddling with the straps while he was making the splint; he had definitely designed it with that in mind. And those flat white pieces- they sat where his tail touched the sand, supposedly a bit more padding? Scar must have noticed how going too shallow was bothering him, though Mumbo was pretty sure it had more to do with his own weight out of the water than touching the sand. Still, what a clever thought.

Mumbo would be extremely impressed if he wasn’t so concerned about how they had gotten this on him. Well. Who was he kidding, he was still extremely impressed. But he had words to share once the humans returned to the cove.

And then, as he lifted his head above the water, something moved out of the corner of his eye. Sitting on the shore there was- well- there was something. Bundled tight in a colorful shell, Mumbo could only make out a vague ovular shape- what kind of creature-? Mumbo’s skin crawled as the thing pulsed, his fins raising in alarm. Then, a head poked out one end- Scar’s head, his hair horribly disheveled, face red and almost sickly looking- he was being consumed!

“Mumbo?” Scar’s voice was hoarse, goodness, how long had he been stuck? How was he still alive? Mumbo felt his fins rustle, but the land creature kept pulsing, not looking like it planned to release its meal despite his warning, “Hey, you okay, bud?”

Scar was so weak he could hardly speak, and Mumbo felt adrenaline torrent through his blood. “Mumbo? Whoa there,” Scar said, and Mumbo saw him heave with great effort to escape his captor, but it was no use. Grian wasn’t here, and someone had to help.

Maybe it was adrenaline, or maybe he was aided by the human made supports below his tail, but Mumbo had never traveled so quickly across land. Scar screamed, but Mumbo hardly heard him, he hardly even felt pain as he tore through the land monster’s soft skin, the riiiiip almost as satisfying as the kill. He turned, the mutilated thing dropping Scar as Mumbo dragged it back to the water to drowndrowndrown. The only thing he heard was the roaring in his ears and the only thing he tasted was- well- it was a little odd he didn’t taste blood, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m-” Scar was still chattering and flailing on the shore when Mumbo resurfaced (land creature sufficiently killed), which was reasonable, who knew how long he’d been stuck, but mercifully, he didn’t look injured.

With the realization that the human was alright came the return of his pain, agony like jellyfish stings, so much so, Mumbo couldn’t do anything but lay down and endure it with flaring gills.

Not much point in a new splint if he immediately went and put weight on it. But he did go on to land. And it didn’t break. So damn clever. (Of course those would be the thoughts running through his head, pushing through even the most intense waves of throbbing agony he may have ever experienced in his life)

Through glazed eyes, Mumbo glanced back at the pieces that remained of the land creature, bits of its skin floating off in every direction. It didn’t smell very much like food.. It would be just Mumbo’s luck that the one creature that got close enough to the water to hunt wouldn’t be edible. What kind of inedible horrors lived on land anyway? At least it was weak enough to be killed quickly.

“Mumbo,” Scar was still whining from the surface, clearly traumatized from almost being eaten. Maybe now was not the time to be bitter, Scar had just experienced a near death encounter. Mumbo was still uneasy about the splint and his spotty memory of the day before, but now was clearly not the time to ask questions. The human was in distress, and needed to be comforted. But why had Scar come to the cove so early, anyway? Where was Grian? How long had Scar been being attacked?

Despite the pain, Mumbo surfaced to see his human, who immediately continued with his blathering, “Mumbo, I’m sorry, I understand if you’re angry, I would be too, I just wanted to help you, I promise I only meant to help you! You were doing alright, but you were really out of it for so much longer than I thought you’d be- I stayed to keep an eye on you and Grian had some camping stuff, but he’s asleep in his car, I’m really sorry-”

“Scar.”

Scar looked up from where he was sitting, covered in sand, disheveled; a complete mess. “Yeah?” Mumbo stared. Scar stared back. “Oh. Right.” Mumbo hoped that was an acknowledgement that he had no idea what Scar was expecting from him. But Scar was still so upset; all his hairs were out of alignment, his muscles were tense- if Scar had fins, Mumbo was sure they’d all be on end. How were you supposed to help a human in distress? Would Scar freak out like Grian did if he sang? Maybe it would be worth trying.. If Scar had any internal injuries, Mumbo might be able to help.

Though, just like Grian, when Mumbo started to sing, Scar tensed immediately, just as afraid as he was before when Mumbo saved him from the land creature. And again, just like his human friend, Scar covered his ears. Why did they think that would work anyway, and why were they so afraid? How else was Mumbo supposed to communicate his intentions?

“Mumbo, I’m sorry, Grian’s going to be really mad at me if you eat me and even if you just take an arm or a leg or two I really need those and we’re kinda far from a hospital and this may come as a surprise to a few people but I don’t want to die!”

But Scar did relax just as Grian did before, and then he- well, shit, Mumbo mixed up the healing song and the sleeping song again- gosh, he really did need to brush up on his music. But at least Scar wasn’t babbling anymore, and maybe a peaceful little nap is what the human needed after a stressful morning.

Well. Mumbo was satisfied with that. Given the throbbing in his tail, he was pretty sure now would be a good time to take a nap of his own, just to try and sleep off some of the pain. Yeah.. that would be good.

Mumbo settled somewhere shallow, but deep enough to where he would be entirely submerged so long as he kept his head down. He figured if anything else tried to attack, Mumbo would hear it first, and scare it off before it made any moves on his human.

It would have to do. Hopefully Grian would come and pick his friend up soon.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fic #sillies #I should come up with a tag for this au #uh #mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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random-twst-and-oc-stuff · 22 days

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Birthday Jacket Interview - Quinn

Today's date, April 4th, marked a special occasion. The birthday of a certain individual named Quinn. Said birthday fella was standing in Ramshackle's lounge, swinging back and forth on their heels with their hands in the pockets of the jacket given to them for this special occasion. The outfit was rather comfy, they had to admit. As for the lounge, it was decorated with streamers and balloons, a sign with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! hanging on a rather large window. On the table were baked sweets, courtesy of the dorm's prefect who had currently left them alone.

"Ah, it's finally my birthday." They acknowledged with a smile before pursing their lips and rubbing their hand absentmindedly. "Hm. Nicole said that I'd get a birthday interview by one of the students here. I wonder who it's gonna be though."

"Happy birthday, Quinn!" As if on que, a certain bat fae popped up upside down infront of them with a friendly smile as if he wasn't trying to scare the living daylights out of them. Which he succeeded in doing.

"AHHH!!" With a startled screech, Quinn instinctively aimed their fist to punch him. Fortunately, Lilia's reflexes were fast and he was able to block their punch on time. Quickly realizing who it was, they pulled their hand back, putting it on their hip. "Lilia? You're the one who's gonna be interviewin' me?"

"Fufufu. Your reactions never fail to amuse me." He admitted with an amused chuckle. "Yes, I'm going to be the one interviewing you on your special day. But first..." He disappeared for a split second before appearing on the floor, handing them what appeared to be a jewelry box. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't bring you a gift?"

Their expression turned into an interested one as they took the box from him. Curiosity taking the better of them, they opened the lid to see a small silver chain, a single bat shaped pendant attached to it, the black jewels it was filled with glistening in the light. Their emerald eyes widened in surprise, sparkling with amazement.

"I noticed that you sometimes wear a pair of bat earrings among other accessories you change daily and I thought it would be nice to give you something to go along with them. Seems like I was right on the money based on your reaction." Lilia explained, chuckling at their expression.

"Huh. Honestly, I ain't surprised you noticed that." Quinn admitted, chuckling. "Thanks though. I was actually savin' thaumarks on getting it, so your gesture is much appreciated." Then they walked to the table and put the box there before going back to the old fae.

"Oh, I'm glad I could be of help then. Even though it was unintentional." Lilia smiled, crossing his arms. "Now, are you ready to start the interview?"

They nodded rather eagerly. "Yessir! Bring me them questions!"

He chuckled at their excitement before asking the first question. "Alright. First question. If you could bring someone with you on a deserted island, who would it be? However, it can't be someone from your dorm."

"Deserted island, huh...?" They mumbled, fidgeting with the jacket's buttons thoughtfully, taking their sweet time to think of the answer. Good thing the bat fae was a patient individual. After a minute, they replied. "Hm... I'd probably bring you if I'm being honest."

"Oh?" He seemed intrigued by the answer, putting a hand on his chin as the other was tucked underneath his elbow. "And why is that?"

"Well, you just give me those vibes that you have great survival skills. And I trust you're gonna make sure neither of us fucks up. You can probably use your magic to teleport us back here, but if whatever reason you can't, maybe you didn't have your magestone or something and we know how dangerous that can be, I imagine Hornton sending a search party for us." Quinn explained, fidgeting with the bowtie on their outfit. Malleus, Lilia, Silver and Sebek were close like a family in Quinn's eyes. If there was one thing they learned, it was that family shouldn't turn their backs on each other.

"Hmm..." Lilia hummed in thought. "I'll admit those are some pretty valid points." He said before deciding to move on. "Anyway, next question. If you could transfer to any other dorm, which would it be?"

"An interesting question, I'll admit." They pursed their lips, their hand resting on their waist. "I'd say..." they trailed off, fingers tapping against their hip. "Probably Savanaclaw. And not only because their courtyard has enough space to let me practice my acrobatics without worrying about breaking anything. Except for my equipment or bones."

"Savanaclaw, huh? You answered that one faster than the last one." He noticed, chuckling. "Honestly, I can see you being in said dorm. You're quite the persistent individual and know how to put those territorial beastmen in their place."

"Damn right." Quinn replied in a sassy manner, nodding.

Lilia chuckled before his lips formed a mischievous smile. "Now, do you know what's coming?"

Luckily for Quinn, Nicole was considerate enough to tell them everything that was gonna go down in the interview. So, they were aware of what was coming after the questions. "The gift of good fortune?" They guessed, knowing they were right.

"Khee he he~ That's right!" He snickered as a paper plate with pink cream appeared in his hand. "Now, don't try to dodge or else your year is gonna be pretty unfortunate~" Lilia warned with a mischievous smirk and a playful glint in his wine red eyes before aiming to throw the cream at them.

While Quinn couldn't dodge, they could at least try to shield their face and hair. As Lilia threw the plate, they were quick to bring their arms up, making the cream stain the sleeves of the jacket, some of it managing to get on their chest.

#my first Quinn fic and it's on their birthday #I wanted to come up with a more creative title but didn't have the braincells for it #also I made a poll on Amino about it and the jacket won so...#I don't know if I should post their birthday jacket since I use Gacha Life 2 #but I can give you the idea of my Ramshackle birthday jacket #basically the dorm's color with hints of the wearer's color #for example Quinn's is grey and green #okay enough rambling time for the actual tags #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst oc #quinn johnson #lilia vanrouge #random's stuff

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arewordsenough · 1 month

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Has this been done yet?

#Can't wait for all the tags about who should and shouldn't be in this #I just put in the ones that mostly come up in discussion and I've seen in fics #If Tracy would have fit she'd be in there #Cut me some slack for the joke #Thank you #puppy pack #liam dunbar #theo raeken #corey bryant #mason hewitt #nolan holloway #alec teen wolf #brett talbot #josh diaz #hayden romero #teen wolf #my edit

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iholli · 5 months

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glaring directly into the sun as I write them into my unpublished f/o list

#i was already in trouble w Donnie but I've been spending so much time with Leo fic I'm just like oh. well. shit.#plus I've been on the Leotello fence for. A While. so that hasn't helped #unfollow me now babes im officially coming out as a tcester #i don't have a tag decided yet #but yeah #au where rat stays w them 👏#ive been violently fixing on the show again to cope with the BATSHIT AMOUNT OF BAD IN MY LIFE RN #this year fucking sucks. i am going to kiss some goofy ass turtles instead.#plus they're both biters. stay winning ✌️#aight how am i tagging this #sorry in advance to whoever i piss off with this post #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ficto tag #proship selfship #leotello #tcest #i will probably be putting up an updated pin post #at some point #fr tho what should their tag be #i was thinking like #two's disaster. three's chaos #or something #i dunno im still brainstorming #could just do emotes for this tho?#💜💖💙#that kinda fits tbh #olay sorry im done

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anakinthetrashking · 7 months

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One of the things I love about Iñaki's Luffy is the way he can make a smile look menacing or turn it into a grimace in just the blink of an eye—and the way he portrays Luffy's carefree attitude that makes everyone underestimate him until he gets serious and the tone switch is just,,, monumental??

And for some reason, this all translated in my head to: hey Iñaki would make a REALLY GOOD live action Gen, especially KoA Era. I would lean in the direction of getting someone younger for The Thief, I think, but??!??!! The mischeivous, trickster, laid back but constantly observing vibes? I think he could EASILY change up Luffy's version of "charismatic in an irritating but loveable way" to Gen's version!!!

Aaaghhhh. Many thoughts head full

#iñaki godoy #opla #tqt #the queen's thief #eugenides #i dont tend to do fancasts bc i don't know about enough actors and a lot of characters should be played by someone unknown or up and coming #but ive seen opla twice now and have been watching the interviews bc the strawhat cast is so cute together lol #also his curls are perfect imo #'for some reason' i say. lol i was reading Ere by audreycritter again #and also thinking about grainjew's loyalty fics specifically 'that certain calmness' and that tag #dark ao3 show me the forbidden platonic intimacy #Ere is definitely that. right up grainjew's alley imo #anyway #very beautiful #very powerful #do not mind me i just like to ramble

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ive-a-problem-to-flaunt · 7 days

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Ep 6 of 23.5 came out about a week ago and I think there's supposed to be 12 eps in total, so we're about halfway through the series, whoo!

So if that's the case, why are over 60% of the fics in the 23.5 tag on ao3 all about characters that don't even exist in the show? 😭😭

Am I missing something here? From my very limited knowledge of the show's making, North and Night were supposed to characters in the show but they were cut at some point (I think? I could be mistaken). So what are these North/Night fics (that are nearly a hundred in number) even based on? Were North and Night characters in whatever source material the show is based on (in that case, maybe they should be in a separate '23.5 (The Novel)' tag or something instead of the show's tag)? Are these fics amalgamations of Gemini and Fourth's characters in other shows? Are they based on nothing at all except whatever the author decided to write about? Which is fine, but I'm just baffled at how these characters, who don't even exist in the show, make up over half its tag.

I mean, I have nothing against the existence of these fics but it's just very ??? to have them take over the entire tag of the show.

#I feel like surely there should be a more appropriate tag for them?#because they don't feel like fanfiction of 23.5 to me #more like GeminiFourth fanfiction of the 23.5 AU flavour.#what am I missing here #because I'm trying to be neutral about this and genuinely understand where these fics are coming from #but ngl my knee-jerk reaction is one of annoyance at seeing a gl get overshadowed by them when they're not even in the show #but that's just my personal grumpy feeling and i'm not trying to pretend that it's the right slash unbiased opinion #I understand that people can be fond of characters that got cut from the show and I'm not saying these fics shouldn't be written #but personally i'd rather there be a distinct tag for them instead of the show's tag.#but also. that's why filters exist I suppose.#also yes I know the official name of the show is just 23.5 on yt #but I WILL keep tagging it 23.5 degrees #23.5 degrees #placeholder tag #if I weren't following the show I'd be amused by this situation and how a fandom can get latched onto things that end up on the cutting flo #and probably compare it to how there are many deleted songs from musicals that I adore #huh okay I just went back to check and most of the north/night fics were written before the show started airing #that's interesting. they seemed to have slowed down since the official show came out

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decarabiandivorce · 2 months

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According to the genshin wiki, amos’s name translates to “burden” (or at least the hebrew version of the name). Any thoughts on the implications of this?

oh i have thought about that a normal amount. Usually, I love tying it into my backstory of her c: An archer needs to be strong and I imagine her taking care of her community a lot. It was her burden to carry, now that she was an archer without prey. It didn't feel right to not do anything. It could never feel right. In her heart, she was an archer waiting to strike- but stagnation for too long was something she could never fully accept. She has carried many things in her lifetime, from secrets to fears.

A burden is a responsibility that one can not abandon; a pressure from external and/ or internal matters. Physical and metaphorical I do think that Amos acts from the heart. She is so full of love that it's the only thing that could really damage her. She will take on the world for the people she cares about. (And the realization of who she really should be taking care of happens much too late)

It's one of the reasons she fell for Deca. A person that could carry her burdens for her. But life without improvement was a different sort of stagnation. To eternally dream causes muscles to weaken and minds to soften. Surrounded by a sea of grey, were her eyes as sharp as they were before?

Ough this is giving me inspiration to write more of Amos's thought process when it comes to her relationships with people :p I wonder what I should nickname this one, either Violetgrass (Bluebells by another name) or Endymionis somnum dormire

Amos was a strong person. She hunted in the woods beyond the city, brining back meat to share with her friends and family. She did not ask for much. She did not have much. Amos the hunter was her name. Her last name? She never cared for it. Being a hunter was nice. Staying still for the perfect shot. Just for her patience to be rewarded in one quick swish.

Her parents taught her the way of the bow. They urged her to put it down as well. To settle with someone that could take care of her. One day her bones will tire and her wrists wouldn't be able to withstand the arduous tasks.

Amos was strong. She cared for her parents til their final breaths. She cleaned the now empty house by herself. She had many friends she loved to help. Any burder they had, she could take on.

She taught the children of her friends how to be an archer. She did her deliveries and as the rumors of war broke out she didn't worry. It was a matter between gods.

Then the winds began to storm and her dreams of green were no more. Her tasks were no more. Still those she helped so long ago took care of her.

She felt like a burden. A hunter without her prey. All she could do was sit by the armourys of old and keep up the upkeep. The other hunters and soilders have already gone home. No one to inspect at the city gates nor a chance to take their own somewhere else. The greenhouses at least gained new members.

Despite her many years of waiting, she felt restless. There must be something she could do! Much like a maid knight in the future, at a simple call she would be there in a second. "Amos, could you please help with this?" "Amos could you please help with that?" She loved to help. The belt on her side was no longer filled with arrows, only lists and letters.

Like the mint plants that weave through the concrete cracks, she survives. She always had.

Day and night held no meaning to her. Task after task. She could do it all. She could do anything.

Her face grimaces as she notes the bottom of her shoes needing to be glued back in. Her boots were getting old and she would need the support of a clan to purchase a new pair. Tailor Skyle still owed her that favor, she could ask her later.

Walking past the kids playing in the streets, she smiled. They waved at her before going back to play their game. They had made a show out of the information coming from the few outsiders. Words about the Wolf King's newest strategy or rumors of how bad this war across the world has been. The stone gate's leylines protected them from the wrath of geo, but the anemo in the air had to have a victor.

The tower in the center of the town was the only place safe from the storm. Its sturdy walls stayed quiet. Season by season the number of guards lessened as the few who found themselves of use to their king wished to conserve their coin.

The tailor greets her, holding the hand of her wife Riza. The baker had made her beloved a container of soup for lunch and had dropped by to see her. Amos smiled as the trio talked and Skyle did calculations.

"Red looks good on you," She could hear her friend mutter to her wife.

"Everything looks good on me." Riza smiled back. Her hand playing with the edges of a napkin. She was wearing a crimson bracelet on her hand. "Hey Amos, you like it? It's our anniversary present to each other."

The tailor sighed, "I can't believe Mr. Whisker would betray me like that. How dare a fluffy face like his tear my bracelet to shreds the moment I place mine down. Our perfect anniversary ruined by that adorable bastard. It's going to take so long to remake the pattern."

As she looked closely, she could see the slightest pattern of flowers. Roses if she remembered correctly.

Riza bent her arm to give Amos a closer look, "It's based on a tale from my side of the family. My father was eager to share the tale of the red string with his future daughter-in-law." She kissed her wife and Amos looked away.

Her eyes wandered as the two began to talk. She knew the guy they were telling her about, how he would gift her parchments and books from the lands south for the holidays. He was a nice guy, but she blanked on his name at the moment. Her eyes rested on the harp in the corner of the shop. She had one of those big ones back at home, but it was way dustier than this one. The feeling of string in her hands that needed to be plucked at the right moment... Yet before she could say anything, her friend was finished.

She thanked them and embraced the storm outside. The kids were gone, perhaps off to their homes for lessons or mealtime. Besides the regular rumble that surrounded the city, it was quiet. Trees and flags rustled like instruments and she made her way back to where she was staying.

Tomorrow was the same. So was the day after that. And the day after that.

Of course, there were new developments. The person that used to take care of horses fell in love with the butcher's son. One of the head clan's harpists was arrested for murdering her rival. She was invited to the wedding of one of the kids she used to carry on her shoulders. Still, she was.

She was.

Content.

Her eyes and body tired as she put on her best clothes. It was a humble affair, a family friend of the groom was one of the Lawrence and allowed them to use their home as the venue. Everyone was in pairs. Some people even more.

She wore a violetgrass in her hair, one of the rarer plants in the greenhouses' glebes. It costed her a pretty coin, but she couldn't help but splurge.

The event was nice. The couple spoke their vows and their kin held a toast to their happiness. Til death will they part.

She smiled. She laughed. She was so proud of her friend.

Someone tossed something into the air, and on instinct she caught it.

Roses so red and Celcilias so white. They smelled fresh, but the bouquet felt heavy in their hands. Crimson splashed against the bone-white and faded grass. Yet there are cheers around her. Smiles and jokes. "Oh, when is the wedding for Ms. Amos?" "It's a sign for you to settle down Amos dear!" "Want me to make a dress for you like I did them?"

She smiles. She laughs. She steps aside. "Come on you guys! It's their wedding! We should tease them more instead!". The violetgrass feels heavy on her head.

The beginning of the end starts with such good intentions.

"Ms. Amos!" one of the children squeaks. She had just finished fixing a post one of the animals knocked over before she felt the small hands of her neighbor's daughter on her dress. "Don't tell Lance but I wanna marry him when I grow up!"

"Is that so?" Amos pats her on the head. "What about that Charles boy that likes you? Or Amelia?"

Her face scrunches, "They are so borrring. And Amelia hasn't returned my ribbon yet! Lance is so cool! He can use a catalyst!" she pulls on the hem as the kid jumps up and down. "When are you getting married?"

"I don't plan on it." is her usual answer.

"That sounds lonely." was the usual reply.

Amos smiled, "I won't be lonely. I have you guys!"

Her neighbor's child frowned at her. At least this one was honest about their thoughts. "You sure? Cause I think that would be sucky."

The pale-haired lady lowered her eyes, "It's time for dinner. I think I saw your father get fowl today at the market. You should get going."

"Okay, Ms. Amos! Can I be flower-girl at your wedding?"

"Bye!" Amos says back.

She closes her eyes. The party a couple weeks ago was nice. Everyone was enjoying themselves and reminiscing on old times was lovely. There was another invite in her mail. An engagement announcement right next to it. The Bakers down the street were having their 2nd child. The Smiths were having triplets.

She grits her teeth as she makes her way back into her empty house. The dust was getting worse. She would need all day tomorrow to tidy the place up.

Yet instead, she chooses to fall face-first onto her bed. The blankets were in the same position they were when she woke up. The wood underneath her creaked as she squirmed. It would be nice to have someone in her arms. Have someone hold her. Have someone greet her when she comes home. It would be nice to have someone to share her burdens with. To greet with a hug. To whisper the vows to.

Yet the only one in her bed was herself. She was never an imaginative person, only able to build upon memories. What would it even be like? How would it even work? How do you even meet someone like that? How do you know this is the person you would devote yourself to? How would you know you were attracted to them? Was it like that Red String her friend told her about, a moth drawn to a flame?

She knew what a pretty person was! She had eyes! Yet. It was always surface-level. She could never imagine sharing a life with that pretty boy at the southern gate. Nor the scribe who doodles hearts on her receipts. She didn't know them. She felt no connection to them. That's what attraction was... right? A connection?

She gripped her pillow tightly.

She needed rest for tomorrow. She could think about this another time.

The storm was quiet today. It ebbed with her lord's mood, but today seemed different. Perhaps she had been imagining things. Sap from dying flowers needed to be crafted into glue. The arrows she'll never use again deserve their tail feathers.

Washing her hands, she tidied the armory's workspace. Clearing away the stuff on the desks was her first task- she wouldn't want the violetgrass's poison to stain.

The soft chime from the door was barely audible. Turning around, Amos noted the person a couple steps away from her had green eyes. No pigment could describe the hue, only barely comparable to the crystalflies or perhaps seelies. A cape on his right shoulder and an even longer cape on his back. Stormy grey hair and skin sickly pale.

Who the heck was this guy? He didn't have the features of any of the townspeople. Was he one of the wealthier people that lived in the tower? Even then she would have heard rumors of such a person. There were only a handful of people with silver hair and she was acquainted with all of them.

A foreigner would make sense, but only if he had arrived before the storm. The gold accents on his pauldrons and clothing seemed flawless- and he did not look like the man who knew about metal upkeep. Wait. Then why was he here in an armory?

"Good day." She greeted as calm as she could be. She was not worried. Surrounded by her old companions, she had spent hours wielding and testing each one of them. Sure she may not be the best at a claymore or a simple short sword, but any one of them would do in a battle.

"Hello," His voice was calm.

"Looking for something?" She asked. He placed his gloved hand on his side, his movements almost like that of a marionette.

"No."

"...Well okay then?" Amos tilted her head. His voice had an accent? That odd way of speaking the Mason family had, with some breathiness to the vowels. Time flowed once more as she tried to concentrate on her work, but this guy was still there. She kept looking back, like they were playing a game of Ochs am Berg.

"So stranger what's your name?" she asked, but got no reply. "... I see. A quiet one, are ya?" The arrows were done, time to clean up and then move to the shields.

"Yes. I am a quiet person." came the short response.

Socially it would be a good move to laugh it off, perhaps add some lip service, but this guy was giving her nothing to go off on. Maybe he did want to just sit and watch, a cat laying on a windowsill. Perhaps she was standing in his way. Or worse: it meant nothing at all.

"Cool." She muttered.

Somehow this became a habit. The two of them, never really introducing themselves to the other, would spend a portion of the afternoon in the armory together. Occasionally, the green-eyed man would comment on the abandoned armors and weapons. The unsaid question of why she continued to do this task on his lips. There was no need for anyone to fight. There were no fights. Everything was at peace. So why was she standing in a room ment for battle.

She never answered him. How could she put into words that this was her choice. Her old friends. Relics from the times she would have hunting partners side by side. Artifacts of campsites and friendships. It was illogical.

Yet, the silence was nice. The silence could make one pretend the other understood the other.

One day, he handed her a cloak that matched the one he wore. "It's cold." He spoke, his voice soft and gentle. As she placed it around her shoulders, she could not help but smile at its warmth. So light yet so strong. Not a single stitch was loose and her only complaint would be how the accents shimmered in the light. Still, she had hung up her bow- so stealth need not be an option.

Her mistake.

"Oh, is this a courting gift?" Came the questions. "Are you finally settling down?" they asked. "Who's the lucky person?"

She takes the cloak off.

But he looks at her with such concern. She does enjoy his company, whatever his name is. She likes talking to him. Sometimes she finds things throughout her day that makes her want to show him it.

She wonders what it would be like to meet outside the armory. She feels like she wants to impress him, to take him out of the city and show off her sick moves in action. She dreams of them patrolling the area together, maybe even becoming neighbors.

The cloak is in her hands now. It's so soft. Would his hand be this soft? Would his chest? She never thought of it before, but she wants to run her fingers through his hair. She wants to hold him and laugh with him. To see that sunny smile peak through his clouds.

Yet, she tells herself. They are barely friends. She barely knows his name. His story is his to tell, and while she had confessed the circumstances of her life... he has always been her green-eyed mystery.

It's so heavy, all of it. The mutterings. The attention. This dance was tiring. She wants to rest. To ignore the questions and stop acting happy. Amos just wants to be Amos. It's not like she can be Amos the archer. She.

She.

She hates this. Can't they all just get off her back! Go away! What she is up to is none of their business!

They are just concerned about you, her mind whispers. Her heart aches. She knows they just want what they think is best for her. That they belive that she will be lonely for the rest of her life. That's absurd! She has them! Do... do they not consider themselves as valuable to her as they are?

The rustle of the storm hums around her. Like a lullaby, she can feel it drowning out her thoughts. Her friend had been giving her more violetgrass once he learned they were of her favorite color. Purple. Such a lovely hue. Imports of those dyes cost a pretty coin, but these flowers lived near the stone gate. Useful towards pests and can even be made into some medicines. "Should you ever turn one inside out, you would win your true love!" A common saying among the hunters.

Win your true love. What a joke. If love was a game, she did not want to play. Was she supposed to bring an inverted flower wherever she went? Or was the game set by the time the contested meets their prize.

It was bad luck to bring this bouquet into her house. The neighbors will talk. And so will the neighbor's neighbors. But that's all they ever do. Talk talk nag nag. It's just some flowers! It's just a gift!

"Decarabian give me strength," She muttered. Not one to be a nun, she only knew the basics for events. "I do like the guy. But. I don't even know him. It would be so much simpler to learn about him. I could tell the Masons or the Peggs that his family doesn't like me! I would be free from their questions."

But what if she does like him. That this yearning to watch stars with him was what they would call love. That the urge to sit around and do nothing- to be by his side and vice versa... what if that was love.

Why did she feel so lonely after making this connection? Why does she want this? Why does she want to give into the pressure and sink into his arms? Have that heavy weight upon her heart to go away once and for all.

Despite her many years of being alone, she felt restless. Was this fear, love? Was the desperation to have someone to talk to when she came home, love? Was the yearning for him to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks, love?

She felt like a burden. An archer without her bow.

Amos closed her eyes and pulled the cloak close. It still smelled of him. If there was anyone she would be safe sharing space with... she guessed he was okay.

#what do you get when you take a touch starved person who longs to be needed and add in a touch starved being who longs to have her be safe?#miscommunication and tragic a-spec ness #MWAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA #this was probs wasn't what you thought my response was going to be but eheheheee i love thinking about Amos #Decmos #steel text #Amos genshin #genshin #amos is so bluebelll core its insane and luckiliy violetgrass is a thing!#decarabian #genshin impact #man i really should come up with a fic tag or smth. steel text is usuable for now tho #slight ocs but they are just there for flavor

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teecupangel · 1 year

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I had to stay awake the entire time so here... Memes based on all the AC fics I wrote this year. (with link to each fic)

For the gen fics

Falconry

The Second

A Pirate's Son

Little Sparrow

The Anomaly

For the fics with pairings

fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum

The Pool ‘Incidents’

Badump Animus Destiny

The Marriage Interviews (For Purely Political Reasons… Absolutely)

Darim’s Most Embarrassing Week

A Break

The Pleasurable Suffering of Desmond Miles Series

Cantarella

Old Master

The King

The Rafiq of the Bad Weather Tavern

The White Aster of Masyaf

Zero Eclipse (Spoilers Ahead)

#i know i redid the cat third wheel one but malik deserves special mention with all the crap he had to deal with thanks to those two #at least faheem got to run away from those two dumbasses in alamut #should i tag all of the fics?#naaahhh #teecup writes/has a plot #teecup edits #this is what happens when i'm sleep deprived #and i now know a meme generator #altdes #my brain comes up with the dumbest things when i'm sleepy

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team--edward · 6 months

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#you should share in tags the names you come up with lol #I’m really curious because I didn’t star reading x reader fics until recently and it’s because of one piece lmao #so for me I use a unique name for each character #or just try to ignore it #NEVER my own name #cause I’m reading it for the character #not for me #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #y/n #ao3 #opla #I use Joy for buggy and Clair (like eclair) for sanji

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non-un-topo · 9 months

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Wish there was an elixir that wasn't alcohol that you could take that just makes you write/draw and not care about the quality of your work or about what your potential audience might think

#posting cringe today lol #don't fall for my seeking reassurance pls the OCD has gotten kind of bad #the other elixir is just bugging my partner and desperately seeking reassurance from them sdghfds yikes #been going through another feeling-like-crap week i think it's just the mental illness at this point. like if it's all the time? hm.#but tumblr's new look might also be making me despair a little because it's just getting shittier and shittier lol #and this is the only platform i can post my work (besides ao3 but i mean.)#instagram is a shitty place for art. as is twitter now. if not tumblr then it's gotta be nowhere #like at this point i can't even just write or draw something for my own eyes. don't know why.#sig mayhaps the fact that your interests are becoming more specific/niche is causing you to fall into familiar patterns and self-isolate hm #like it's easier to self-isolate if you come up with reasons to be alone. just a thought.#i should dig into that lol.#overshare hours #haven't even been able to just sit down and catch up on reading fics because of This Feeling. like i just do nothing all the time.#i'm also sick and can't seem to kick this cold though. coughing is driving me crazy #alcohol mention #alcohol tw #tw alcohol #idk how to tag. if this site could just decide on one way to tag content warnings...

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whysamwhy123 · 5 months

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After a whole month of not being able to finish anything and barely making any progress on my myriad of fic ideas, I finally finished a fic today! Of course, it wasn't any of the ideas I very much wanted to finish - I just randomly had a silly, unserious idea for an OrangeHook comfort fic (calling it 'comfort' probably isn't super accurate, it's extremely mild comfort with no real hurt. Unless you count Hook's pride, I guess. But whatever) and despite there being a million other things I should write, my brain spat out 2.5k words anyway?

I'm not sure if I should post it or not though. It ain't good. It's light-hearted and all, but reading it back, I don't think it's particularly funny or cute or anything. I doubt the premise will interest folks much, too goofy, so maybe I should just keep this one to myself as an At Least You Tried? Honestly, I'm just happy that I managed to finish something. It was getting real frustrating - I started a ton of different ideas and either couldn't begin to make them work or, in the case of my Ricky/Christian thing, I'd hit a wall where I just can't finish it (the wall is smut, LOL) So I'm gonna go ahead and give myself a microscopic W for getting this one done and dusted.

But I really do hope that I can get one of my actual Better Ideas finished some time soon. Somehow. Truly, writing is a fickle mistress.

#What is wrong with you Sam you should not be allowed to write #Oh and another meaningless insignificant and weirdly specific accomplishment on this one -#I actually wrote an OrangeHook fic that *isn't* about their age difference!#Never thought I'd see the day #I mean it does technically come up at one point but it's brief #And OC does still call Hook 'kid' but I think I've just decided that's how I write OrangeHook #You know how most Evilhausen fics will have him call Hook 'kitten'?#Well if Sam's writing OrangeHook then OC's calling Hook the kid #And I'd like to think that if it were Hook's POV he'd be referring to OC as 'that old man'#So EQUALITY!!#OK Sam cool it on the tags no one cares LOL

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androideql · 5 months

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do u have an opinion on . yakumond re: bugs my mind is in factions, warring . edmond brave, yakumo baby. BUT yakumo farm boy. edmond city kid. yakumo destroying farm pests with his bare hands? out of habit? it's on SIGHT?? but nothing scares vice captain, right? so what if yakumond just turns my trope upside down and NEITHER of them are scared of bugs. what then. what do i do

I spent a while thinking how to reply to this ask. And. OK. Bear with me.

I honestly don't see either of them being afraid of bugs. I can see them not liking them, with Edmond being a more indiscriminate "bugs have no place in this house and should be squashed" compared to Yakumo's "will remorselessly kill pests but not harmless insects."

That being said... I kinda like the idea of Edmond having a very specific weakness to just one (1) bug and being utterly fucking embarrassed about it, and Yakumo (being the anxious baby he is) somewhat mirroring Edmond's response to it despite usually remaining very calm. They can be a disaster together. They've got that potential.

In fact, I liked the idea enough that I have this deleted short scene from a fic that I'm working on and that I will be releasing it into the wild now. Mind you, it's a draft so it's way more functional that it is polished.

------

“Sir Edmond, why don’t you go to sleep right away? It's already very late.”

Edmond looked up from the blank paper. At the lack of a desk, a small wooden crate he'd found here in the hayloft would work just fine. Until he saw that he'd finished writing the letter, he was not going to be able to calm his nerves enough to sleep. It didn't matter that it could be done the next morning. Why leave it for later if it could be done now?

“I’ll be finished in a few more paragraphs, don't worry,” he said, dipping the pen in the inkwell. "You shouldn't stay up longer than necessary, either. Is something holding you up?"

"Ah, well..." Yakumo looked at the lamp on the crate. It would be rather difficult to sleep with it still on, and he couldn't ask it be turned off if Edmond was still writing. "It's fine. I can wait a little longer. I'll make sure the tent is properly set up."

"Haven't you already done that twice?"

There wasn't much else left to do here. Maybe he could go outside or look around the barn for things that might be useful next morning? His eyes tried to look around. It would be rather difficult to do this in the dark... Besides, he didn't want to do anything that would be too distracting. Edmond was very particular about this letter.

As Yakumo looked around from where he was sitting, he could see something scuttling up one of the sides of the crate. He frowned at the presence of the insect. People commonly referred to those as "claw traps." They had a crab claw-like pincer and a nasty habit of biting people in their sleep and hiding in boots. What if there were more around? Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to bring some repellant.

Yakumo crawled closer to the tent, where he'd left his belongings. He rummaged around his bag for the repellent and something to kill the insect with. However, Edmond was so absorbed in writing his letter that he hadn't noticed yet. It was probably better to warn him before he got bitten.

"Sir Edmond, there's a claw trap going up your desk."

At the mention of the bug Edmond haphazardly grabbed all his things and scrambled backward in panic, spilling black ink on the wooden floor, splashing some of it on his shirt.

Yakumo's heart made a jump. He dropped his bag and reacted without thinking.

Squish, crack. He immediately squashed the bug with his bare hand.

For a moment, there was silence. He stared at his hand, at Edmond, who looked way too tense over a single bug. When Yakumo realized what he had done, a shudder ran up his spine. He lifted his hand. It was wet and crunchy, and he probably just stuck the claw into his palm because it hurt. He looked at it. Yes. There it was. Like a massive splinter.

He was more worried about how Edmond hadn't taken a single breath ever since he'd killed this thing, though.

"S-Sir Edmond, is everything alright?" He asked as he shook the remains of the claw trap off his hand.

Snapping out of his panicked state, Edmond nervously cleared his throat, his cheeks burning red. He looked aside and took a deep breath with an angry expression on his face.

"Y-Yes... I... Oh, how embarrassing... I need a moment."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Yakumo rushed to wash his hands in the basin, just the get the gooey and feeling off his palm. Now he was going to have to go back into the house to change the water. He was not about to wash his face with cold insect soup when he woke up in the morning.

The act of cleaning and removing the pincer from his palm helped him calm down and think about what just happened. He turned around to look at Edmond, who examined the stained sleeve of his shirt with an air of inconvenienced embarrassment. That ink stain was not coming out, and he probably knew that.

"Umm... Do you have something in particular against these insects? I've never seen you react like that to any others before..."

For sure, they'd been toiling in the fields for most of the day, and this wasn't the first time they'd dealt with a bug problem before. Usually speaking, Edmond didn't hesitate. He looked at the offending creature with disgust and slammed the first hard thing he could find against them, making it abundantly clear that, while he didn't like them, he could handle them perfectly fine on his own. While claw traps were unpleasant, this seemed a bit excessive.

Looking tired all of a sudden, Edmond took a long breath and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't like those."

"Ah... Well, yes? It's... not hard to see that at all..." He waited for Edmond to continue, and he was about to nervously change the topic and run away to change the water when Edmond cleared his throat.

"We saw a lot of them back when I was still in training. There was one summer when they were everywhere, wherever we set camp. They barely let us sleep. I've had an... aversion to them ever since. But I can handle them on my own next time. I just need a second or two to calm down."

The last part was a quick attempt to save face, but Yakumo wouldn't have minded it at all if he had to get rid of one of these pests again. He merely hoped Edmond's panic was a little less contagious next time.

Hoping to help Edmond retain some of his dignity for now, Yakumo tried to make the atmosphere a little less stilted by subtly shifting the subject away from how Edmond felt about these insects.

"You must have stayed within the Light Territory that summer then?"

Edmond gave Yakumo a surprised look.

"How do you know that?"

"Claw traps can only really survive there. The Water and Wood territories are too humid for them."

Hold on... Yakumo's brow furrowed deeply once he realized what he'd just said.

"How did it get here, then?" Edmond asked. And he was right. They were right in the middle of the Water territory, weren't they? But Yakumo didn't really have an explanation.

"M-Maybe they're mutating...?"

"No."

Edmond snapped at the suggestion. Yakumo reflexively lowered his head in response.

"Um..."

"Don't make me even entertain that idea." He stood up, slightly agitated. "I'm going the search the hayloft in case there are more. I won't be able to sleep otherwise."

"W-We have repellent myrrh. We can burn some inside the tent. It doesn't smell bad or anything..."

His voice was barely a whisper, but the night was already silent in the village and the fields. Edmond had no problem picking up what he was saying, or the tone in which it was said.

"... I apologize. My tone was too harsh."

Yakumo had never heard Edmond talk to him like that before. There was no doubt that these bugs were a touchy subject. He chuckled nervously.

"It's... fine. Don't worry. I understand."

With his cheeks turning red once again, Edmond let out some unintelligible noise that maybe, in some corner of his mind, had been words at some point. Eventually, he gave up, huffing in frustration.

"Tha-Thank you for handling it..."

"Oh. I... could do it again if we find another one."

Not enthused by the idea of seeing more of them, but still looking somewhat relieved, Edmond's voice and face softened just a little.

"I seriously wish we didn't... But I'd be quite grateful if you could."

#the reason why i waited to answer this was to make sure I was not going to use the scene at all #turns out that yeah i don't need it #should i put this in the main tag?#new fic coming to you...#... eventually #just bug squashing for now #i couldn't think of a good name for the insect also but it's not like i have to anymore #ok so here's my thinking process:#i've known enough people in the military to make me think that Edmond probably had to put up with some shit as a new recruit or trainee #and that he probably has things that he really really doesn't like as a result #the klein kingdom probably has a bunch of natural nuisances depending on the season #but a trainee probably wouldn't be sent out in the middle of winter right away cause they don't have those survival skills yet #so if those first excursions happen in spring or summer... then bugs are a problem #and Edmond IS a noble anyway. he was probably not expecting that many bugs much less for them to be bite-y #and as for yakumo i just dont see him minding bugs as long as they don't sting #he basically grew up in a cave first and then in a farm; he's super used to them #some kid probably tried to put a spider in his shoe once to try to scare him and got a very underwhelming response for his efforts #i do think he gets nervous when he sees something venomous especially if it moves too quickly #and he probably gets easily startled by jumping spiders if he hasn't noticed them before they jump in front of him #but that's more him being a nervous mess in general and less about bugs #ok enough rambling #i can't do concise answers for shit im sorry

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